“It’s like something out of a dream” remarks Teri McMinn’s Pam in some of the deleted footage of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre featured prominently in Alexandre O. Philippe’s latest documentary. Her comments also describe the uncanny experience of seeing previously unseen footage from Tobe Hooper’s iconic horror film. The familiar actors in the settings, costumes and film stock everyone is familiar with but from different angles, different takes, it’s a tantalising glimpse into a production that had always felt inexplicable. Philippe has mentioned that there is much more of this footage available and may form a future project. One can only hope.
The rest of the film follows closely the formula Philippe has perfected over his last few films about films. Divided into chapters, five commentators describe their expereinces of the film; filmmakers Takeshi Miike and Karyn Kasuma, film critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, author Stephen King and comedian Patton Oswald. Some are more insightful than others but each offer their unique perspectives on the film.
The most conventional contributions come care of Patton Oswald who shares some amusing anecdotes involving the film and some textural observations that include everything from the sun as a recurrant visual element, the inverted home invasion reading, thematic similarities to westerns, and class warfare themes. In doing so he references films such as Nosferatu, Silence of the Lambs, American Psycho, Gone with the Wind and The Art of Seeing for One’s Self by Stanley Brackage (the first of two Brackage comparisons in an attempt to root the film in the American Avant Garde). His arguments are a little scattershot though part of this is the necessary condenscing of what was presumably a lengthy interview by the director.
Several of the other commentators also perform some textural analysis, though typically in support of their larger argument. Stephen King’s contribution are similarly eclectic covering everything from his own attitudes to horror to the moral implications of violence, peppered with references to and praise for the film. It is surprising to praise both subtlety and mystery when his own work so frequently consists of over-the-top horror with extensive lore behind each monster. The dichotomy is encapsulated by the many shots of Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of The Shining accompanying his descriptions of effective horror, a film he considers “cold”.
King does make reference to Cormac McCarthy though mainly just aesthetically. Far more compelling are the comparison’s to paintings by Heller-Nicholas. She links the disturbing content and subject of the film to the paintings of Heironymous Bosch and Francis Bacon. Kasumi similarly talks about the film’s artistic merits in contrast to it’s grindhouse reputation, drawing comparisons to a great American Novel akin to the Grapes of Wrath. Kasumi explore the film as a corruption, or perhaps just natural culmination, of the American dream with both the killer family and the hapless victims representing the height of American entitlement. She draws a much more coherrant interpretation of the sun imagery as a signifier of myth.
Both Oswald and King draw comparisons between the madness depicted in the film and the radical approach of the filmmakers, celebrating a sense of “madness” as a form of subversive genius, demonstrating a kind of admiration for the maniacs of the film. Kasuma’s perspective on the family as being pathetic and pitiable cuts through the veneration and mythmaking of the film’s production by focussing on the ever-relevant depiction of violence. Her’s is a disruptive and much needed perspective.
Perhaps the most appealing aspects of the documentary testimony, and the real credit to the diversity of some of the voices Philippe has found is in the accounts of first encountering the films. In each instance the materiality was crucial. Oswald saw grainy pictures in a book before watching a VHS on an old TV, Kasuma saw the film projected on film and Miike saw it out of necessity when his first choice, Chaplin’s City Lights was full. Most interesting of all is Heller-Nicholas’ australian release VHS tape, her analysis of which is a highlight of the film. Several participants also testify to the marketting of the film in their territories, which would have been fascinating to explore further.
Miike and Heller-Nicholas discuss the film in the context of their own national cinemas, describing how the film worked in dialogue with the cinema histories of both Japan and Australia, and exploring the impact of the film. Heller-Nicholas even relates events within the film to the history of cinema. The limitations of the 16mm blown-up footage are celebrated by the participants. “It looks fucking real” says King. Philippe recreates this grainy look and offers footage comparisons between film scans and VHS footage. His style highlights what is being said without distracting from it.
Philippe’s has once again made a documentary exploring the multifacted qualities of a great film. Though some voices are more insightful and interesting than others, his skill is to provide a broad conversation around his subject and present those perspectices in a stylish and arresting way. He’s a natural at articulating the passion of his subjects for the films they love.
Four Stars