Ever lie awake at night, tossing and turning, wondering how Leatherface became Leatherface?
Yeah, me neither.
Nevertheless, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning” aims to shed a little light on the tormented past and fragile psyche of film’s most famous chainsaw-wielding madman.
Just think: If little Thomas hadn’t been dumped in a trash bin — after crawling out of the womb and onto the floor of the slaughterhouse where his morbidly obese mother was working that sweltering day in 1939 — who knows what he might have become? A rocket scientist, shortstop for the New York Yankees, maybe even president of the United States.
Which brings us to a discussion that’s probably far more weighty and philosophical than this gratuitous, blood-soaked prequel deserves. You could argue that in their depiction of the redneck Hewitt clan — a Texas family of soulless, sociopathic cannibals who lure unsuspecting tourists to their elaborate deaths and treasure patriotism above all else — director Jonathan Liebesman and writer Sheldon Turner are getting in a little dig at the Bush administration.
Nah, probably not.
But it’s easy for your mind to wander to such thoughts while watching the film. It does look great, though — very authentic to the low-budget aesthetic of Tobe Hooper’s classic original, with its low, off-kilter camera angles and faded earth tones, as if it were made in 1969, the year it takes place.
By this point Leatherface (Andrew Bryniarski, reprising the role from the 2003 “Chainsaw” remake) is 30 years old; we learn that his nickname originates from a facial deformity, and that he mutilated himself and farm animals as a child before moving on to people.
Liebesman quickly does away with all this at the very beginning. So really, his “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” isn’t so much about Leatherface as it is about Uncle Hoyt, who becomes Sheriff Hoyt when he kills a lawman, steals his uniform and assumes his identity.
Then again, with R. Lee Ermey in the role, the movie couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else.
Ermey does his eloquently abusive drill-sergeant shtick, which made him famous in “Full Metal Jacket” and which he hones on the History Channel series “Mail Call.” And while it’s the most compelling aspect of all, a little goes a long way.
On the receiving end of his tirades are two brothers on their way to fight in Vietnam — Eric (Matt Bomer), who just returned from a tour of duty and wants to go back, and Dean (Taylor Handley), who burned his draft card and wants to flee to Mexico.
As a fling before heading off to war, they’d been on a road trip across Texas (always a pleasant thing to do in the middle of the summer) with Eric’s fiancee, Chrissie (Jordana Brewster), and Dean’s girlfriend, Bailey (Diora Baird), when Hoyt pulled them over.
As if he didn’t already feel inspired to bring them home for “supper,” Hoyt gets even angrier when he finds Dean’s half-burned draft card: “There ain’t nothing I hate more than a draft-dodging, hippie protester!”
Eventually, his good-looking young victims succumb, one by one, having been tied up and beaten before being sliced apart by Leatherface and his “buddy.” Brewster, as the heroine with the best shot at escaping, looks pretty in her hip-huggers and halter top, even when she’s covered in blood, but she’s just not feisty enough. There’s no there there — and you want a little sass in your horror movie babes, right?
Then again, what happens to her and her friends is irrelevant, since the killers are the focus, and we know they’re going to survive anyway. It’s a prequel, duh. And so there’s no suspense, no fear, just an endless stream of blood and the roar of the chainsaw ringing in your ears.