The Chainsaw Is Back — Unfortunately, So Is the Franchise
Some films get sequels because they’re beloved. Others get sequels because the studio still has the rights and a fog machine. Texas Chainsaw 3D — or, as it appears onscreen, simply Texas Chainsaw (because numbers are scary, apparently) — is the seventh installment in a franchise that’s been running on fumes since Reagan was in office.
Directed by John Luessenhop, who brought us Takers (a movie remembered by absolutely no one), this 2013 atrocity is billed as a “direct sequel” to the 1974 original masterpiece by Tobe Hooper. That’s right — it asks you to ignore everything that came after and pretend that Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (the one with Dennis Hopper and a chainsaw duel, aka the fun one) never happened. Bold move.
Unfortunately, rather than paying homage to the original’s gritty terror and cultural bite, this movie revs up the chainsaw and cuts right through its own credibility.
The Opening: Previously on Texas Chainsaw…
We start with an extended recap of the original film, which is the best part of this movie — mainly because it reminds you what a good horror film actually looks like. It’s a greatest hits montage of screaming, running, and chainsawing that will make you nostalgic for the days when horror wasn’t filmed entirely in 3D and processed through a gray Instagram filter.
Then, almost immediately, Texas Chainsaw 3D does the unthinkable: it kills everyone from the original film in a vigilante mob scene. That’s right — in 1973, the good ol’ boys of Newt, Texas, torch the Sawyer home, killing everyone inside except for one infant, who’s rescued by a man so evil he murders the baby’s mother right in front of her. Because subtlety, like taste, died in the fire too.
This baby grows up to become Heather Miller (Alexandra Daddario), who finds out in 2012 that she’s adopted and has inherited a Texas mansion. Naturally, she takes a road trip with her friends to claim it. You can probably guess how that goes.
The Road Trip to Hell (and a Kroger)
Heather and her crew — including her boyfriend Ryan (played by Trey Songz, because nothing says “serious horror” like mid-2010s R&B stardom), her BFF Nikki (Tania Raymonde, who looks like she wandered in from a Maxim shoot), and Nikki’s boyfriend Kenny (Keram Malicki-Sanchez, a man apparently allergic to charisma) — pile into a van and pick up a hitchhiker.
Yes, a hitchhiker. As in, “the exact thing that started the first movie.” This group has the combined survival instinct of a houseplant.
When they arrive at Heather’s inherited estate, they find it stocked with dusty furniture, an ominous metal door, and a letter her lawyer warns her to read carefully. Naturally, she tosses it aside — because who has time for exposition when you’re busy setting up your death scene?
They leave the hitchhiker to “watch the house” (great plan, everyone), and he’s promptly killed by Leatherface, who’s been living in the basement like a murderous raccoon for 40 years.
Leatherface: The Grandpa You Don’t Invite to Thanksgiving
This version of Leatherface (played by Dan Yeager) is weirdly tragic, like a retired serial killer who’s just trying to keep the family home in one piece. He doesn’t even seem that into killing anymore — he’s more tired than terrifying. Honestly, the poor guy’s been through seven movies. He deserves a pension, not another reboot.
Still, once he gets going, he dispatches the cast with all the enthusiasm of a man mowing his lawn. Kenny gets hooked, sliced, and diced. Nikki and Ryan get chased around in a van until Leatherface cuts the tire (in 3D!) and flips the whole thing over. Ryan dies instantly — not that anyone notices or cares — while Nikki ends up hiding in a freezer. (Classic Chainsaw move. Nostalgia, but make it cold storage.)
Heather, meanwhile, discovers the mummified remains of her grandma, has a meltdown, and runs screaming into the night. It’s all very dramatic, if you can overlook the fact that the film seems to think jump scares are a substitute for storytelling.
The 3D That Nobody Asked For
Let’s pause for a moment to discuss the “3D” aspect of Texas Chainsaw 3D. Because wow, it’s bad. It’s not just unnecessary — it’s actively insulting.
You’ll see chainsaws flying toward the camera! You’ll see blood spatter that looks like it was animated on a Nintendo 64! You’ll see Alexandra Daddario’s cleavage presented in such gratuitous depth that it might as well have its own billing!
This isn’t immersion; it’s a gimmick. Watching this movie in 3D doesn’t make you feel like you’re there — it makes you feel like your optometrist should start charging combat pay.
The Plot Twist: Family Values (Chainsaw Edition)
Around the midpoint, things get… weird. Heather learns that Leatherface is her long-lost cousin Jed Sawyer. That’s right — the guy chasing her around with a chainsaw is actually family. She even has the birthmark to prove it.
The movie then pivots from slasher horror to a twisted Hallmark drama. Suddenly, Heather feels sympathy for her cousin, because apparently, murdering your friends becomes forgivable once you realize you share DNA.
There’s a truly bizarre moment where Leatherface, after discovering the birthmark, stops trying to kill her — and she starts defending him. By the end, she’s calling him “cuz.” Yes, really.
It’s as if the film wants you to root for Leatherface — the same man who’s been wearing human faces like Etsy projects since Nixon was president. He’s no longer the embodiment of rural madness and decay. He’s just… misunderstood. A lovable oaf who needs a hug and maybe some skincare.
The Carnival of Contradictions
There’s a carnival scene in here — because nothing says “Texas” like Leatherface crashing the Tilt-a-Whirl. It’s supposed to be the film’s high point, but instead, it’s the cinematic equivalent of watching someone chainsaw a balloon.
Heather runs screaming through a midway full of people, pursued by a 6’5” man with a revving chainsaw. Does anyone help her? No. They just kind of stand there, presumably thinking, “Wow, this 3D attraction is really realistic.”
This sequence perfectly sums up Texas Chainsaw 3D: loud, stupid, and deeply unaware of how human beings actually behave.
The Ending: Family First, Logic Last
By the finale, Heather and Leatherface have formed an alliance against the corrupt town sheriff and his cronies, who are revealed to be the true villains. (Yes, the film expects you to root for the cannibal.)
When Leatherface gets captured and nearly tossed into a meat grinder, Heather saves him by tossing him his chainsaw — in slow motion, because subtlety is dead. Together, they kill the bad guys and return home for a heartwarming burial scene.
Then comes the pièce de résistance: Heather finally reads her grandmother’s letter, which basically says, “By the way, Leatherface lives in the basement. Feed him and keep him happy.”
The movie ends with Heather accepting her inheritance, her lineage, and her live-in murderer. It’s less Texas Chainsaw Massacre and more Gilmore Girls: The Chainsaw Years.
A post-credit scene reveals her adoptive parents showing up at the mansion, only to be greeted by Leatherface. Spoiler: they don’t make it out alive. Cue credits. Cue relief.
Final Thoughts: The Real Horror Is the Script
Texas Chainsaw 3D tries to modernize a horror classic and ends up neutering it. The 1974 original was gritty, raw, and horrifyingly plausible — a sweaty nightmare of America’s backroads. This one is a glossy, sanitized theme park ride with all the menace of a Spirit Halloween ad.
The acting is bad, the writing worse, and the 3D effects a war crime. It’s a slasher movie that’s afraid to slash, a horror movie that’s terrified of being scary, and a sequel that makes the original seem like Citizen Kane.
If Leatherface had any self-respect, he’d rev up his saw and cut this movie out of the franchise canon entirely.
Verdict: 1 out of 5 stars.
Because in the grand pantheon of bad horror sequels, Texas Chainsaw 3D doesn’t just scrape the bottom of the barrel — it chainsaws right through it.
