There are bad movies and then there are insults to the idea of movies, and Marcus Nispel’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of those insults. the 2003 thing looks like it was shot through a beer commercial lens, all sweat and fake grime, like some asshole’s idea of “gritty.” The original was a nightmare you could smell—blood, rust, dirt, the stink of America rotting. This one? It’s drenched in cheap cologne and nu metal, dressed up in chains and pretending it’s dangerous. It isn’t scary, it’s just loud.
Jessica Biel vs. The Sweat Monster
Let’s start with our heroine, Erin, played by Jessica Biel, whose tank top puts in a more memorable performance than half the cast. Biel spends most of the runtime running, screaming, sweating, and looking like she’s auditioning for a Calvin Klein “Survival Horror” campaign. Sure, she swings a meat cleaver at Leatherface and looks good doing it, but her main job is to be the designated Final Girl in low-rise jeans.
Her boyfriend Kemper (Eric Balfour) doesn’t last long, which is good, because the man has all the charisma of a mosquito. When Leatherface wears his face as a mask later, it somehow feels like an upgrade.
The Hitchhiker Suicide: The Movie Peaks Early
One of the movie’s most infamous moments comes right at the beginning: a traumatized hitchhiker blows her brains out in the back of the van. The camera lingers on the exit wound like it’s auditioning for CSI: Texas. It’s gross, sure, but also unintentionally hilarious—like the filmmakers thought, If we go hardcore right now, no one will notice the rest of the movie is dumb as hell.
Unfortunately, they were wrong. After this, the movie drags its feet harder than Leatherface at a clog-dancing competition.
Leatherface: The Gym Bro Years
Andrew Bryniarski’s Leatherface isn’t the weird, feral man-child of the original. No, this Leatherface has been bulking up. He’s jacked, like he spends his downtime between murders buying old Joe Weider magazines off e-bay and bench pressing the refrigerator. But muscles don’t make you scary. They make you look like Leatherface just signed a deal to promote protein shakes.
He’s less tragic monster and more angry WWE reject, stomping around with his chainsaw like he’s cutting promos between kills. You half-expect him to drop the saw, grab a mic, and scream, “Let me tell you somethin’, brother!”
R. Lee Ermey: Bless Him, He Tried
The one shining light here is R. Lee Ermey as Sheriff Hoyt, chewing scenery like it’s his last meal. He’s sweaty, sadistic, and clearly having more fun than anyone else. Ermey bullies, threatens, and grins his way through every scene like a drill sergeant who’s decided murder is just another training exercise. He deserved a better movie. Hell, Leatherface should’ve stepped aside and let Ermey be the main villain.
The Hewitt Family: Trailer Park Gothic
In the original, the Sawyer family was grotesque and weird in a way that felt too real, like you’d accidentally stumbled into the wrong backyard barbecue. In the remake, the Hewitts feel like central casting for “Southern Inbred Villain #4.” You’ve got Monty, the legless uncle who does little besides grunt and cackle, Luda Mae as your creepy grandma stand-in, and some random extras who look like they wandered in from a Rob Zombie music video.
The whole family is more caricature than character, and after a while, you just wish Leatherface would rev up the saw and put them out of their misery.
Plot? What Plot?
The story is boilerplate slasher nonsense: kids take a wrong turn, find the wrong house, and meet a cannibal who is an expert on power tools. But the pacing is so off it feels like two hours of filler stretched around a few moments of gore.
Characters vanish and reappear just to die. Andy gets hooked like a slab of beef, and Biel has to mercy-kill him with a knife. Morgan spends half the movie whimpering in handcuffs before getting chandelier’d by Leatherface. Pepper, bless her, exists solely to be chainsawed in the dirt. It’s all so rote that you start rooting for the chainsaw. At least it has a purpose.
The Cinematography: Pretty, Pointless
The one thing the remake nails is its look—grimy, sepia-toned, sunburnt cinematography courtesy of Daniel Pearl, the same guy who shot the original. But here, it’s too polished, too calculated. It feels like a Maxim photoshoot dipped in pig’s blood. Every frame screams, Look how gritty we are! instead of actually being unsettling.
The original film looked like it had been shot on a stolen camera by a lunatic, which is why it worked. This one was storyboarded by a marketing team and looks exactly as you would expect.
The Chainsaw of Destiny
Leatherface’s chainsaw is basically the star of the show, but even it feels tired. The kills lack creativity, and the sound of the saw revving loses its punch after the twentieth close-up. Chainsaw through the torso, chainsaw through the back, chainsaw through the air—by the end, you just want him to put the thing down and try strangling someone for variety.
When Biel finally hacks off Leatherface’s arm with a cleaver, it should be triumphant. Instead, it feels like the movie realizing it’s out of runtime and needs to wrap things up.
The Ending: Roadkill Epilogue
The finale drags Erin through the woods, a slaughterhouse, and a truck stop before she hot-wires the sheriff’s car, rescues the kidnapped baby, and runs over Ermey like she’s playing Grand Theft Auto: Hillbilly Edition. It should be cathartic, but it plays like slapstick. By the time Leatherface limps into the road to wave his chainsaw like an angry traffic cop, you’re begging for credits.
And then, just when you think it’s over, the movie slaps on an unnecessary “found footage” epilogue of Leatherface attacking police. Because nothing says scary like watching night-vision footage of a sweaty guy swinging at the cameraman.
Why This Remake Fails
The 1974 original was terrifying because it felt real—cheap, raw, dirty, like you could smell the sweat and gasoline through the screen. This remake feels like a slick corporate product designed to cash in on a franchise name. It’s horror for people who think Rachel Maddow is edgy and think “Texas” means tumbleweeds and screaming violins.
It mistakes loud noises and gore for tension, hot actresses for empathy, and stylish visuals for atmosphere. Worst of all, it’s boring. The one thing a movie about a chainsaw-wielding maniac should never be is boring.
Final Thoughts: A Dull Blade
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) isn’t just a bad remake—it’s a neutered one. It sands down all the grit, madness, and authenticity of Hooper’s original and replaces it with glossy gore, pretty faces, and a soundtrack that probably should’ve come with a Monster Energy drink.
Jessica Biel is sexy, R. Lee Ermey chews the scenery, and the cinematography is sunburnt. But you don’t remember a chainsaw massacre for its lighting. You remember it for its teeth. And this remake, despite all the revving and screaming, doesn’t have any bite.
Man, do I ever agree with this review! This movie was a travesty. It insulted the memory of the original classic. I agree R. Lee Ermey was great – it looked like he was having a great time, and Jessica Biel was undeniably hot, but the movie as a whole was a bitter disappointment. Gore for gore’s sake.