I'm actually really surprised at all the positive reviews for this film here, considering its horrible reputation.
Made on a shoestring budget with no-name actors (at least at the time, of course, Viggo went on to A-list-ish status) obviously, there is nothing groundbreaking in this 3rd chainsaw outing, as can be said of most sequels. Hooper's 1974 film said and did everything that needed to be said and done (its documentary style, iconic villain, the creation of the slasher-film template, the fire-orange burning sunsets, the post-Vietnam worldview, the subtle commentary about consumerism, animal cruelty, and decay of the nuclear family, etc....). That film is an unparalleled masterpiece, and even Hooper's follow-up didn't hold a candle or need to exist(although it was crazy, offbeat, quality cult filmmaking on its own terms) so a third entry would seem a complete waste of time.
So why even pay part III any attention? My adoration for it is based largely on the first half of the film, which is very well done and far superior to the second. For starters, Kate Hodge and William Butler, as the film's yuppie protagonists, are natural and absorbing and never take viewers out of the film (something that can't be said of most slasher films of this era, which typically had bottom-of-the-barrel talent).
The cinematography is also imaginative and stylized. The entire "gas station peepshow sequence", for example, is fantastically shot and executed; the angle of our heroine through the cracked mirror, the claustrophobic lighting, and the povs from the peephole. And note Kate Hodge's reactions during this scene: she seems legitimately freaked out and uncomfortable, and her reactions of fear and confusion in the scenes that follow are equally convincing. It's a solid performance, in a film with uniformly solid performances.
The film's pacing in this first half is also impressive; from the mundane car conversation that opens the film to the bizarre "body pit" sequence- which was so absurd, it bordered on parody-to the armadillo murder scene, to the gas station sequence: all these moments serve as knowing winks to the first film, but because the film modernizes them, it benefits viewers as it places them in the "now" instead of the "then". And thankfully, the film sticks with the aesthetic of its time, because, while it would eventually show its age, attempting to match the documentary style of Hooper's original would have felt derivative, redundant, and out of place. So kudos to Burr and cinematographer James L. Carter, who later proved himself a real talent with more mainstream gigs, for remaining faithful to the mood of the original without plagiarizing, but still taking some new chances.
And how about that "truck-chase/changing the tire" sequence? I LIVE for scenes like this and sadly, modern horror films just don't take us here anymore: the ominous, minimalist score, slow-burn pacing, the effective use of that lantern light, and again, Kate Hodge's display of fear and hysteria feels all too real, as does boyfriend Ryan's (William Butler) reactions of incredulity, anger, and frustration. There is some commendable attempt at realism here, resulting in a truly tense and nerve-jangling scene. Also, dare I say that the atmosphere in this scene comes the closest out of any film in the series to match the "flashlight fight between Sally and Franklin" from the original? It's that uncomfortable mix of anxiety, dread, and panic that Hooper perfected so well that I think gets overlooked in this sequel.
Okay, so that's the first half. The second half is less ambitious and becomes, as I mentioned earlier, almost a parody of the first film, with an uneven mix of horror and (attempted) black comedy. There are hints of wit and social commentary to be sure: the mocking by one of the chainsaw clan of the elitist boyfriend's underwear ("California!"), Ken Foree's completely out-of-place military survivalist, to name a couple. But these clever bits don't say anything or offer insight (although the scene where Leatherface grapples with the Speak and Spell is curiously touching).
With that said, there is still enough well-choreographed action to make the second half more than watchable. And witnessing Kate Hodge's transformation from genteel yuppie to traumatized badass makes it worth sticking around. A nice homage to Sally in the original.
But then comes the final shot, which is almost as if director Burr threw up his arms and said: "Alright, time for the trendy 80's slasher movie ending....we all got bills to pay". And of course, it leaves room for yet another sequel. Shame, shame, Burr.
And there you have it: LEATHERFACE, the wildly uneven, sometimes ambitious, consistently amusing, what should have been the final word on an already dying franchise, and more notably, sub-genre that would never quite be the same. As we all know, SCREAM followed 6 years later, and the slasher film became a cultural artifact only to be mocked, parodied, and "post-modernized" for a new generation of filmgoers, most of whom weren't alive when their genre forefathers were in their heyday. So with that in mind, we should be grateful for earnest little films like TCM III, which, while far from perfect, mark the end of an innocent and unpretentious era of irony-free slasher filmmaking. Sigh.
