Tobe Hooper

Portions of this review originally appeared in INsite magazine, November, 2006.

Tobe Hooper really likes Dr. Pepper. Because of this fact, I no longer judge people who drink the stuff, although I still stay away from it. (That goes for any drink with benzoate in its makeup. Look it up on Alternet or Wikipedia.) That’s the power of cinema. My love for Hooper’s work is so great, I am now willing to look past my own social experience with a terrible soft drink, and see that geniuses can be Peppers, too.

Hooper has several new DVD’s out right now. His recent Masters of Horror episode, comes from a story by the great Richard Matheson. Matheson’s prose is responsible for some of the greatest fantastic film and television of the last century. He is perhaps best known for novels like Hell House and I Am Legend, his Twilight Zone episodes and stories-turned-movies like Duel and The Incredible Shrinking Man.

Hooper’s episode, “Dance of the Dead,” is a post-apocalyptic zombie story, starring Robert Englund as master of ceremonies to the ultimate humiliation: reanimated corpses are forced to perform on stage. I feel it’s a perfect example of what every Masters show should have: replay value. I can watch this episode several times. God bless Austin.

My favorite thing about this show, other than Englund’s performance (as over the top as he’s ever been), is Hooper’s use of superimposition. I knew I’d been watching movies for too long when I could tell the trick was done in-camera, rather than on someone’s laptop. Darren Aronofsky had a similar trick in Requiem for a Dream, but Hooper’s more chaotic vision required special cameras that could shoot, backwind, and re-shoot at the camera operator’s discretion. If the end result makes you nervous, Hooper’s done his job.

To be fair, a lot of fans really hate this episode. That’s happened to Hooper’s work plenty of times. Back to that in a moment.

            I don’t ordinarily double-dip on DVD’s. Satisfaction is usually achieved the first time around, particularly if the special features are genuinely special. Pioneer’s old DVD of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was a great product for its time. Before box sets for a single movie were in vogue, Pioneer did a great job of giving rabid Leatherheads exactly what they wanted: a commentary, outtakes, deleted scenes and trailers. Unfortunately, the transfer looked like it was shot through a screen door. Hooper’s masterpiece deserved better.

            Yes. “Masterpiece,” I said. The original Chain Saw is the primary reason I’ll still pick up a movie camera. I don’t need Quentin Tarantino to tell me it’s a better, more important movie than Easy Rider. I knew that in middle school. Maybe I like the film too much. I did a fan commentary for it a few years ago, and got a little coverage in Salon and on NPR. They got a laugh out of it.

The new edition from Dark Sky Films contains all of the extras from the original DVD, plus a beautiful new image and even more extra features, including a second commentary and the “lost” documentary, The Shocking Truth. A new interview piece is scored by Austin’s own Russell Clepper, and it fits the mood beautifully. If you’re one of those poor saps who only knows about Leatherface from New Line’s godawful remake, now’s your chance to get the real thing. (I mean, come on. In the remake, Leatherface isn’t even a cannibal. Maybe he should take up macramé while he’s at it.)

It took nearly fifteen years for the original film to get a sequel (not to mention compound word status for its title tool), but the result was yet another cult classic. No one I knew felt this way about Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 when it was new. Nearly everyone hated this movie. Feeling that too many people failed to see the humor in the original, Hooper dared to make Chainsaw 2 into a barely-veiled parody of the first. James Whale did the same thing with Bride of Frankenstein, and as did Joe Dante with Gremlins 2.

Not your cup of tea? What if I told you that Dennis Hopper runs around in a cowboy hat, with chainsaws strapped to his waist like six-shooters? Plus, you get Bill Moseley as Chop-Top, the Nam vet with a very visible metal plate in his head. He has to scratch it with a coat hanger. Plus, Leatherface falls in love. It’s beautiful.

It’s time we recognize Tobe Hooper’s skill as a director. By “we,” I mean Earth people. Texans have known about it from the jump.

I’m still not drinking Dr. Pepper, though. Unless I can find the new Eaten Alive DVD. Then I’ll drink one.