In general, I try not to write film criticism in the first person. Though it seems to be the norm for most online columnists, I’ve always chosen a more formal approach in reviewing films. As a fan and an avid reader of several film sites, I generally try to skip any review that begins with a "funny" anecdote about what the reviewer did an hour before the movie. In the "Aint-It-Cool" era, everyone with e-mail is an instant critic. And everyone is infinitely more interesting than the film they are reviewing. What many fail to realize is that the film in question is not about them or their life experiences. Using "I" usually means ‘I need a crutch for my rant as I am unable to articulate how I feel without getting myself involved.’ Reviews in first person also relieve the writer from having to support their observations. Ham fisted "cleverness" is substituted for substance or anything remotely resembling information: ‘driving a nail through my head would have been preferable to this crap!’ Pieces like that are sometimes entertaining, but rarely helpful to someone who actually wants some information on a film.

However, there are some reviewers who use the first-person technique to add nuance and pointed observation to their critiques. Many Monsters contributors do this every week with great success, I’m just not one of them. Part of the reason for this is my "I" is far too passionate about genre films to ever be unbiased or very helpful on a review. "I" would never be able to critique (let alone watch) "Halloween: Resurrection." "I" could simply not overlook the supposed death of the beloved Laurie Strode. Even if Rick Rosenthal inexplicably created a true masterpiece with "Resurrection," "I" would be far too influenced with contempt and outrage to provide an unbiased review. Therefore my criticisms are much more helpful when I rely on good old omniscient third person; he’s much more impartial, relying on film theory as much as fandom. He might even like "Resurrection" if "I" ever let him watch it. But "I" digress… Forgive the long introduction, but I believe it’s necessary for the film I’m about to review. There has been so much online first-person discussion on "Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2003," that "I" felt my passionate, biased side might make for a more interesting, if not informative, read. I will go the extra mile and attempt to support my thoughts as much as my bias allows.

So much has already been written about Tobe Hooper’s original TCM, that even a capsule review seems wasteful. I caught a screening as a teenager during one of New Line Cinema’s many re-releases in the early ‘80’s. The expectation I had going into the film could have never been met and I left the theater greatly disappointed. This was during the heyday of Fangoria where splatterfests such as "Maniac" and "Zombie" were pushing the limits of onscreen gore. The teenage gorehound inside me screamed ‘you call that a massacre!’ The following years were much kinder to the film and I slowly came to understand how well directed and genuinely creepy TCM really was. It’s one of the few films that have become increasingly disturbing for me as time goes by. Hooper’s belated sequel came out in 1986 and upset many of the core TCM fans. I loved the uneasy mix of extreme horror and comedy and went to see it several times during its short theatrical run. Jeff Burr directed the unnecessary but nicely shot third entry "Leatherface" in 1989. It disregarded "Part 2" and tried to emulate the original’s humorless, claustrophobic tone. Kim Henkel (who co-wrote the original TCM with Hooper) decided to try his hand at a "true" sequel with the ridiculous fourth entry "Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre" in 1994. Answering that burning question: ‘Can a massacre return?’ Evidently so. It made its debut at the USA Film Festival in Dallas the following year. The screening was preceded by a glowing review from Joe Bob Briggs who proudly announced that it was the best TCM sequel to date. Henkel was actually in attendance and had the nerve to stay through the entire film, waiting out in the lobby for feedback. After watching his ugly "garage remake" of the original, I was so angry I couldn’t even look him in the eye. It was so bad it never received a theatrical release until two of its stars (Renee Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey) became famous. In 1997 the producers made some minor changes and re-titled it "TCM: The Next Generation." It deservedly died a quick death at the box office and was quickly forgotten.

When it was announced a couple of years ago that Michael Bay was going to produce a remake of the original classic much of the online film community was outraged. Long-winded tirades shouting words such as ‘sacrilege!’ and ‘abomination!’ were all over the net. Though I was far from outraged (come on, they did remake "Psycho!"), I was a little depressed with the news. Michael Bay is known for his slick, empty filmmaking style and visions of Dark Castle’s horrific remakes of those William Castle classics were fresh on my mind. But, ultimately, could the new film be any worse than Kim Henkel’s remake?

I have to admit, I really liked the trailer. The sound effects of the burning camera bulbs, the John Laroquette voiceover, the period setting and the moody cinematography were all good signs. But I’ve been fooled by clever trailers before; expert editing made even "Cabin Fever" (a profoundly boring exercise says "I"), appear involving. All preconceived notions (good and bad) aside, I also have to admit that I really liked this new "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." I liked it as a fan of horror films and as a critic and filmmaker. It works as both a respectful homage to the Hooper original and as an effective horror thriller in its own right.

This new version follows the basic premise of the original - albeit with more clearly defined characters and a broader canvas for the macabre set pieces. On their way to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert in Dallas, group of 20-somethings make their way through rural Texas. Kemper (Eric Balfour from "Six Feet Under"), his girlfriend Erin (Jessica Biel from "Seventh Heaven") and three of their friends decide to stop and pick up a disoriented young woman they almost run down in the middle of the road. ‘They’re all dead’ she rambles and tells them that they’re going the wrong way. After attacking the driver, she removes a gun from under her dress and shoots herself in the head. Attempting to do the right thing, the kids alert the sheriff and are told to meet him (dead girl in tow) at an old mill not far from their location. As the kids wait for the authorities, they meet a creepy child who tells them that the sheriff’s house is not far from the mill. Erin and Kemper eventually find a dilapidated gothic mansion where an old man in a wheel chair allows them to enter and use the phone. While Erin once again tries to speak with the sheriff, Kemper makes his way through the sparse, rotting homestead. Soon, everyone’s favorite chain saw wielding maniac makes his appearance (through a familiar sliding metal door) and human headcheese is once again on the menu.

Director Marcus Nispel (making his film debut) and writer Scott Kosar treat the material with a refreshing seriousness. They also manage to pay subtle homage to the original without ever repeating themselves. Far, far removed from the hip, self-reflexive attitude of so many recent horror films, TCM 2003 pulls no punches. Smartly set in 1973 (a year before the original film was released), it immediately recalls that simple yet tumultuous time; a key factor in playing out the events in a believable, even uncomfortable, manner. TCM:25, a remake/sequel that fortunately never saw the light of day, was the last rumored "Chainsaw" vehicle before this film. The title alone speaks volumes about the snarky, throwaway intention of that production. Self-aware teens with IPods and cell phones just wouldn’t create the same drama of stoned, post-Vietnam hippies. Tension between the "establishment" and the younger generation was palpable and subtly influenced the horror films of the early ‘70’s. A new character, Sheriff Hoyt (played with a wonderful creepiness by R. Lee Ermey) exploits this tension to great effect.

One of the most memorable aspects of the original film was the amazing cinematography by Daniel C. Pearl. His in-your-face documentary style and inspired composition are one of the reasons the ’74 version was inducted into the Museum of Modern Art. He was, wisely, approached to lens the remake. Again he captures amazingly choreographed images of violence that subtly incorporate just enough CG to make the carnage photo-real. Like Kosar’s smart screenplay, he never competes with his previous work. While much of his imagery deftly recalls the feeling of the original, his scope this time is much wider, juxtaposing large vistas with minute macabre details. The effect is equally unsettling. The young cast lead by Biel is exceptionally good, especially Erica Leershen (the cute El Paso hitchhiker Pepper), who exudes hippie-babe charm. Andrew Bryniarski as Leatherface is certainly game enough physically – though his "mask" isn’t as striking as the bizarre original. If I was comparing this film point-by-point with the original (and I’m not), his cannibal psycho portrayal would be something less than the original film’s Gunnar Hansen. The previously mentioned Ermey is the standout here. His corrupt sheriff is truly a scary creation and adds a wicked kick to the proceedings.

Like any horror fan, the ultimate test is: ‘was it scary?’ And though the question is highly subjective, my "I" response is ‘hell yes!’ I was very impressed by Nispel’s taught direction and wonderfully violent set pieces. A scene where Biel brandishes a meat cleaver is particularly satisfying. (If I were capable of screen captures, the cleaver attack would be a highlight - trust me.) There’s also a nice chainsaw-in-action shot that Pearl captures which is pure grindhouse poetry. Scary, yes, it’s also intense and one of the better all- around thrillers in recent years. Says "I."

The special edition 2-DVD release is loaded with extras. The wonderful one-sheet image of Leatherface’s visage has been traded (to differentiate the SE and general releases) for a silly production shot of him in an action pose. A metal plate featuring this alternative artwork is rather superfluous. Aside from the useless (ornamental?) metal plate, the DVD box is a nicely designed four-panel fold out in heavy paper stock. When all four panels are unfolded, a long saw rendering supports the two DVDs and a pocket containing an envelope of photos. The 8 photos included are labeled "evidence" and contain artwork from the creepy opening segment of the film. Disc one is a beautiful presentation of the film, perfectly capturing Pearl’s gray/green sepia color palette. Presented in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, the DVD offers a pristine digital transfer of every sweaty/bloody image. The sound presentation offers three separate options: Dolby Digital in EX 5.1 or stereo and DTS ES Surround. The 5.1 presentation screened was a great mix of the complicated sound design. Included on disc one are three commentaries elaborating on different aspects of the film: production, story and technical. Disc two contains several violent deleted/alternative scenes and an interesting wrap-around device that was wisely cut. Chainsaw Redux is an interesting documentary on the entire production. It’s a very detailed feature-length analysis that is a must-see for fans of the film. Ed Gein: The Ghoul of Plainfield is yet another documentary on the exploits of the infamous murderer who inspired Chainsaw and several other films. It’s only informative if you’ve never heard of his case before. Screen tests of three of the principals are included but are short and ultimately forgettable. A gallery section featuring several behind-the-scenes shots and concept art is a nice, but purely standard feature. Also included is an unnecessary music video, theatrical and TV spots and special DVD-ROM content with a script-to-screen storyboard feature.

Marcus Nispel’s "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to like it, let alone enjoy the experience, but it’s the most thrilling horror film I’ve seen in quite some time. (Fan and critic agreed.) And, as odd as it sounds, it’s also one of the more original. Several horror films last year claimed to be homage’s of "Chainsaw" and its ilk, offering nothing new and practically imploding within the limited set clichés. Rob Zombie are you listening? This "re-imagining" (a title I despise, but it’s valid here) doesn’t attempt to outdo or slavishly follow the original. Instead it creates a separate, palpable universe – one much smarter than its predecessor, just as scary and no less vital. Says "I."