The saw is family! "The Gruesome Edition" DVD review.

"After more than a decade of silence, the buzz is back," heralds the tagline for THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 (Cannon Films; unrated, but contains graphic violence, language and sexual content; 100 mins.; released August 22, 1986). In 1974, director Tobe Hooper scored a cult hit with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the most frightening independent horror film ever, a wild, intense and nerve-racking blend of genuine horror, surprise satire, and black humor that never let down. Its very small budget and unparalleled imagination were the keys to what made the movie so great, so in 1986, after the director hit a second career peak with 1982's "Poltergeist," Hooper and producers Menahem Golan & Yoram Globus (whose Cannon Films released other mid-80s Hooper titles "Lifeforce" and "Invaders From Mars") felt the need to bring everyone's favorite power tool-wielding hulk back from purgatory.

The original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" went admirably over the edge, and THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 goes shamefully over the top. But is it good in that trashy sense, or does it just simply come across as a toothless?

In the vein of the original, we are given a brief run through of how, in the wake of hysterical heroine Sally Hardesty's escape from Leatherface, a month-long manhunt from the authorities in Texas couldn't find the farmhouse or catch any legitimate suspects or evidence. However, in the 13 years afterwards, more murders were surfacing in the Lone Star State, and the opening scene provides us one gory example.

Whereas the first movie didn't have a chainsaw killing until late in the film, and the results were so dark that you could hardly make out some of the gore, Part 2 looks a lot slicker and plays a lot sicker. In this opening bit, two bratty young yuppies shooting up the Texas scenery call to harass pretty Stretch (Caroline Williams), DJ at rock station K-OKLA. When they call again late at night, the two idiots learn they played chicken with the wrong truck, as Leatherface (Bill Johnson) pays them a visit with his handy buzz saw, which he uses to slice in half one of the boys' noggin, the splatter-filled payoff provided courtesy of Tom Savini.

Stretch happens to record the incident on tape and keeps it as evidence to submit to Lt. "Lefty" Enright (Dennis Hopper), the uncle of the wheelchair-bound Franklin from the original. When he discovers the murder of the yuppies, he is convinced he's on the trail of his nephew's killers. Stretch offers to help, and Lefty reluctantly agrees after shooting her down. Lefty proposes that Stretch play the tape on the air, which she does despite any FCC regulations, which not only gives Lefty the great push over the edge to righteous vigilante justice, but puts Stretch in danger as Leatherface and his "brother," a loony Vietnam Vet with a metal plate nicknamed "Chop Top" (Bill Moseley), pay a visit to the station. Leatherface goes after her, but becomes infatuated with Stretch in a moment that outlandishly shows Leatherface having what may be the world's first chainsaw orgasm. He fakes her death in an effort of protection, but she pursues them to their hiding space, as does Lefty, who unwittingly spooks Stretch before a trap door sends her into the underground lair of Leatherface, Chop Top and Drayton Sawyer (Jim Siedow), the cook from the original who now makes a living as a cannibalistic caterer.

If "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" felt like a visit to the slaughterhouse, THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 is the original's mirror image as seen from inside a funhouse. Everything that people found timeless about the original is dashed about with abandon, from the copious use of gore to the psychotically animated antagonists to the black comic elements. Writer L.M. Kit Carson even adds the notion of 1980s-era capitalism, with Mr. Sawyer toiling about his cavernous home trying to prepare croissant sandwiches from the corpses of fat rednecks. It's just business to him in a "dog-eat-dog world" where there just ain't enough damn dog. Carson's writing is intentionally campy at times, what with all the one-liners, sight gags ("the fry house") and over-the-top grisliness.

Another of the movie's primary difference could be summed up in two words: Tom Savini. Yes, ladies and gents, Tom Savini. The most prolific make-up effects artist in the history of 1980s horror held the reins of make-up effects for Hooper's sequel, making sure we get vivid and disgusting depictions of chainsaws slicing off heads, skinned corpses, chainsaws slicing apart testicular regions, repeated hammer-to-head blows that unleashes gushers of blood, and chainsaws disemboweling those on the business end. Drayton mentions to "look out for the splatter" when he sends Stretch to the blood bucket to get her brain squeezed for juice. That's actually a nice moment of advice to be heeded.

In the 1980s, it seemed as if most of the actors from the second Hollywood star system were portraying over-the-top characters almost rudimentarily: Al Pacino's Tony Montana, Jack Nicholson's work from "The Shining" to "Batman," and Dennis Hopper in this film. Hopper does a convincing job as the crazed lawman, who seemingly kids himself he's not fearful by slicing up everything in his path and yelling a lot ("BRING IT ALL DOWN! BURY THE DEVIL!"). In contrast, Williams does an admirable job playing the unfortunate victim, who in a plot twist ends up admitting her love for her oafish co-worker L.G. (Lou Perry) only after Leatherface has carved away much of his flesh and he rises from near-death to rescue her. She isn't put through the ringer as much as Marilyn Burns was before, but instead she plays the role with more endearment and manages to establish herself as a sympathetic heroine, which makes her torture and abuse as tough to swallow.

But the villains practically end up stealing the show in more ways than one. While Leatherface remains quite a threatening monster, Bill Johnson manages to turn Leather face (or "Bubba" as he is dubbed in this movie) into a sexually frustrated and childish version of his old self. He's so intimidated by Mr. Sawyer that you wonder why doesn't he snap and saw the old man's groin himself. And although Johnson is trying to do Gunnar Hansen justice, all the time Leatherface is seen as a goon, not exactly the proper way to play a chainsaw-wielding killer. While the whole angst angle as well as a bizarre romance bit with Stretch (where he dances with her whilst she wears the disembodied face of her dead producer) feels quite off the mark, the Leatherface of this film is about as good as the one in the second sequel and better than subsequent portrayals.

Jim Siedow, meanwhile, has a blast playing the Cook as even more grumpy, vulgar and sinister than ever before. Not only that, but Kit Carson ends up saving some of the best dialogue for him ("I got a real good eye for prime meat!"). Still, the movie's giddy center remains Bill Moseley, who I'm convinced did this as a method performance just by the sheer madness which he imbues this character. When we first see him, he's dressed like a hippie and has a Sonny Bono wig covering his chrome bald spot. Apparently, he's the brother of Edwin Neal's hitchhiker from the 1974 original, off in Vietnam so much that he truly has lost his mind as well as some of his head. With his grotesque bad habit (he uses a hot coat hanger to fry off loose skin and eat it) and vulgar insults ("Lick my plate you dog d*ck!" he spouts off with a middle finger up), I can't help but feel as if Michael Keaton must have watched this movie at least once before "Beetlejuice" came along.
Chop Top has become such an influence that Les Claypool and his boys in Primus felt fit to sample the line "Dog will hunt" in their 1991 hit "Jerry Was A Race Car Driver."

The original family still remains one the best in any "Chainsaw" massacre, but the second coming is faithfully second in terms of violent appeal. At least they're given personality, if at times they do become the Three Stooges of loony psychotic rednecks: the Cook is Moe, Chop Top is Larry, and Leatherface is Curly because he runs around in one place and probably sneaks a "nyuk" in his babbling.

However, another thing I didn't get was the family's new subterranean digs, which contains its share of pipes, skeletal decor, and rotten cadavers for window dressing, but has more Christmas lights than Ned Flanders' house. It's a gaudy area where the walls house human intestines and you're not sure whether you're running around in circles or no, like Bob Vila furnished this house with Federico Fellini handing him ideas. And you'd think that with all the lamps, chandeliers, and strung out lights they have operating in their chambers, they'd probably have to work 24/7 just to foot the electric bill if indeed it ever came. I did enjoy the production design of Cary White and the set decoration by Michael Peal, but it feels far too grandiose (even by this movie's standards) for the stature of these nomadic psychos.

Tobe Hooper, who did well up to a certain point in the early 1980s, makes a confused directorial effort this time around. In his heart, he knew he couldn't replicate the sheer terror of the original, so he opts for safer albeit still creepy shock tactics whilst playing up the camp factor to 11, something which tends to make the film seem contradictory. When done right, like Sam Raimi did in 1987 with his hysterical and kooky "Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn," a sequel feeding off the legacy of a classic original can be a self-deprecating yet potent romp of spilt plasma, style, and sick humor. Something tells me Hooper hadn't the inspiration to go so far, so the result is serviceable, but less than stellar.

At least the music is salvageable, mostly. Getting past Hooper and co-composer Jerry Lambert providing synthesized carnival music crossed with a "Friday The 13th" score, the soundtrack is littered with fine rock/new wave selections from bands like Concrete Blonde, Timbuk 3 and Oingo Boingo, whose "No One Lives Forever" is a sublime compliment to the opening murder sequence.

MGM previously issued the movie on DVD in a bare-bones package, but with the release of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning," a prequel to the Marcus Nispel-helmed remake that in my mind was a piece of s***, both Hooper's original and his sequel get the special edition re-release treatment. TCM 2's double dip is dubbed "The Gruesome Edition" and comes packaged with dreadful "Saw"-knockoff artwork that doesn't even work half as much as the initial "Breakfast Club" parody art used to promote the film.

MGM/Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment present THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 in a high-definition widescreen transfer (aspect ratio 1.85:1) that blows away the previous grainy, non-anamorphic release. DP Richard Kooris supervised this release to ensure that the colors were transferred with the utmost precision, and the result is something that could've passed muster for a Criterion package. Sharpness is amazingly decent throughout the picture, save for some instances, and there was no visible artifacting, just some mild edge enhancement. Also improved is the audio mix, which remains Dolby Digital 2.0 but seems to have increased clarity and surround-sound precision than before. Everything just comes at you with force, from the music to the sound effects to the maniacal screams of Bill Moseley. And the best part is, all the elements are balanced properly to ensure that dialogue is crystal throughout and that there is no noticeable distortion. There is no option to view the film in full screen, but I'd gladly take better picture and audio quality over full-frame options any day.

Were you sore at the lack of extras on the old disc? Get ready for some incoming mail! "The Gruesome Edition" is packed with goodies. Kicking it off are a pair of audio commentaries, the first featuring Tobe Hooper and moderator David Gregory, who made one of the documentaries which can be found on Dark Sky's recent "Ultimate Edition" DVD of the original "TCM." Hooper must still have some reservations about the making of this movie, as it was reportedly plagued by studio pressure (Golan & Globus supposedly drove Hooper nuts), budget constraints and, of course, the mixed reactions from audiences who either loved the movie's madness or loathed it. The director tends not to delve into some of these controversial elements, but that doesn't mean he's dry for ideas. With Gregory's support, Hooper gets into the motivations for making the movie, production elements, problems with set design, character notes and comparisons between the original and the sequel, which mostly reflected 1980s aesthetics. Hooper claims he still has the prop of "Nubbins," the hitchhiker's corpse used in the sequel, although a close look during the documentary reveals he might be wrong.

The second commentary features Bill Moseley, Caroline Williams, Tom Savini and yet another moderator, Michael Felsher. Poor Felsher, though, unlike Gregory, ends up nearly buried under the constant chatter from the three guest participants, all of whom are having a hoot revisiting the movie and sharing their recollections (Hooper was an avid smoker of Monte Cristos and loved his Dr. Pepper), trivial knowledge (references to "E.T." and "Sesame Street" during Chop Top's entrance) and good-natured criticisms (Moseley quips how the opening murder takes place on "the world's longest bridge"). Moseley, who had a bit part in "The Texas Chainsaw Manicure" (complete with a handful of actual head cheese), probably wouldn't have been cast in such efforts as "Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 3" or even Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil's Rejects if it weren't for his work here, and he relishes getting back into the voice of Chop Top and filling the commentary with sick humor. Williams sounds like she hasn't aged a bit, and plays off of Moseley with charm. And Savini is always a welcome addition to any commentary, brimming with wit and insight. Fans of this movie will have as much fun listening to this as did the people doing the commentary, which alone gives it potential repeat value.

At last, we get a multi-part documentary on the making of "TCM 2," It Runs In The Family. Hooper and Hopper are absent, but Moseley, Williams and Savini return for some in-the-flesh testimonials. We also hear from Bill Johnson, Richard Kooris, Lou Perry, Cary White, and writer Kit Carson. The documentary runs a full 90 minutes and is divvied up into six featurettes/chapters: "Texas Screenplay Massacre" (Carson explains why he chose this project to avoid being begged as a serious writer following his script for "Paris, Texas"); "The Art of Mayhem" (building the elaborate sets under consideration of budget-enforced script changes); "Cast of Characters" (Perry, who served as assistant cameraman for the original, explains how he uses the "fry house" line as a way to make female fans melt); "Prime Meat" (Savini explains how the make-up for Grandpa took longer to create than most of the other, gorier highlights); "Father of the Saw" (cast and crew recollections of working with Tobe Hooper); and "Requiem for a Sequel" (delving into the post-production controversies involving the MPAA and audience reactions). The documentary, taken as a whole, is a rather comprehensive overview of the movie's creation choc a bloc with great making-of tidbits and behind-the-scenes footage/stills.

The Cutting Room Floor presents the coveted deleted scenes originally featured on the Elite Entertainment laserdisc/video releases. The quality is no different, as these are obviously taken from an old VHS-sourced work print. However, each of the deleted/alternate scenes come with introductory text that serves to provide background on the actual scene and explain why they were cut. Unlike the previous Elite Entertainment releases, subtitles have been provided for inaudible dialogue in both the "parking garage massacre" sequence and the Joe Bob Briggs cameo. The former provides some more amusing interaction between Moseley and Siedow, and the latter features Joe Bob Briggs…'nuff said. Also included is an alternate opening titles sequence an unused shot during the demise of Chop Top.

The theatrical trailer is included as is a comprehensive sextet of still galleries containing production photos, promotional posters and artwork and shots from Savini's FX work.

THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2 still remains a movie people have passionately mixed feelings about. You were either laughing with it or at it, and the movie still holds up today as a rather successful, extreme 180-degree twist on the original. It didn't take itself too seriously, which cannot be said of the two recent franchise installments spearheaded by producer Michael Bay. "The Gruesome Edition" is the release of the film many like me have been anticipating for the longest time, and is available to own at a reasonable price that is pretty nice given how big of an improvement this version is in the technical presentation and bonus feature arenas. Just remember this: "The Saw Is Family!"