Also see After TCM: Cannibal see, Cannibal do
Yep, TWO stars. One for each of Jessica’s Biels.
Beyond those, only CineSchlocker idol R. Lee Ermey is even remotely reason enough to endure this effing disaster. Initially, yours truly was enraged by the notion of this Hollywood remake, then totally backpedalled upon seeing its knockout trailer and chatting with R. Lee about his deliriously demented role.
So, I purposefully hit a pre-theatrical release screening with the burning desire to LOVE this movie! But it’s awful. Terrible. And they do something that not even THREE sequels dared — that’s UNMASK the big guy. Unforgivable!
As any CineSchlocker will tell you, yours truly is no stickler for "realism" except, and yes I’m putting a fine point on this, I most certainly DO demand realism in breast acting. Jessica spends the whole flick oiled up and jiggling all over Texas, yet never once did her nipples strain against the confines of her wifebeater. NOT ONCE!!!
Now, that wouldn’t be any big crime if they hadn’t purposefully stuffed her in a sub-zero MEAT LOCKER — in a state of hysteria — in a WET T-SHIRT!!!
Nothing. Not a hint.
I suspect CGI shenanigans. They actually digitally removed those high beams! Sheriff "R. Lee" Hoyt says it best: "I SMELL BULLSHIT!!!"
The movie: Ah, the summer of 1973. Five youngsters, fresh from carousing south of the border, burn rubber toward Dallas eager to make good on front-row Lynyrd Skynyrd tickets. If only they hadn’t done ONE LAST THING each of their sainted mothers surely warned against: Pick up a hitchhiker (Lauren German).
This poor gal blubbers hysterically like Tammy Faye Bakker after she found out Jimbo diddled that bimbo, except she keeps whining about a "bad man" and how they shouldn’t oughta go for help in THAT direction. The majority being comprised of potheads, they consequently DO, so she’s left with no other choice than to remove the .38 secreted within her holiest of holies and splatter-paint her purty lil brainpan all over Eric Balfour‘s shagadelic upholstery!
To their credit, and ultimate D-O-O-M, our bloodied road-trippers seek the nearest authority figure, who ain’t exactly Barney Fife, and his killer kin don’t take kindly to nosy Nellies neither. But it isn’t until about 40 minutes in that a chainsaw’s revved in anger and Ms. Biel really starts to earn her paycheck. Speaking of performances beyond the call, how ’bout the costume designer who somehow engineered that midriff-baring knot in Jessica’s tee to STAY precisely twisted and in place even when confronted by the most cantankerous of cannibals? Miraculous.
Wish the same could be said of the flick’s failed finale, which in a quasi-admirable effort to set itself apart from the original, strays into the tired model of dern near every dash ‘n’ slash fest that followed it. The net result isn’t inventive, nostalgic or even that interesting unless Scream or its sanitized spawn are one’s base of reference.
But, boy howdy, that Jessica gal’s got skills. Ms. Biel is, beyond debate, the most smokin’ scream siren in years! Andrew Bryniarski‘s also the most FEROCIOUS boogeyman since Kane Hodder. An apt comparison, because Big Andy imbues Leatherface with an X-gamin’ Jason Voorhees-esque tenacity. More Great White shark than Gunnar Hansen‘s inbred redneck with questionable dining and decorating preferences.
Pulling meat hook duty, and affording the audience’s only real squirms, is hunka-hunka beefcake Mike Vogel. Holy gender reversal, P.C. Man! Wheelchair’d whiner Franklin has been replaced in favor of Jonathan Tucker‘s suitably obnoxious John Lennon starter kit, "Morgan." And that’s free-lovin’ Erica Leerhsen showing off the lung capacity CineSchlockers first heard in the much-maligned Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2.
Notables: No breasts. 10 corpses. Bubble blowing. Gratuitous opossum. Puking. Ol’ reach into the hole scare. Gratuitous urination (via catheter). Multiple amputations. Bottle to the brainpan. Rerun hit and run. Necro noodling. Cranial crushing. Amateur dentistry. Implied infant harvesting. Reefer madness. "Not So Cool" head on a platter. Unsanctioned use of Saran Wrap.
Quotables: Mr. Ermey gets in all the best lines — most of ’em unscripted — "She ain’t gonna bite you, she’s deader than a goddamn doornail!" and "You know, back when I was a young patrolman, I used to LOVE wrappin’ up these young honies. Cop me a little bit of a feel now and then, you know? Ooo! Look at that! She’s kinda wet down there. What have you boys been doing with this dead body, anyway!?!" and, a personal favorite, "Protect and serve. That’s what we do!"