Alexandre O. Phillipe has managed to carve out a popular niche for himself in film studies documentaries. His previous work includes The People vs. George Lucas, 78/52, and Lynch/Oz. They take a different approach to, say, Kevin Bronlow’s (wonderful) documentaries on film history, which includes a lot of still archival material with traditionally shot talking heads. Phillippe has been a pioneer in the video essay format, combining cinematic editing, original footage, and illustrative juxtapositions of sources, ranging from film clips to behind-the-scenes footage.
With his latest film, Chain Reactions, Phillippe takes an approach more broad than a single scene in a film (78/52) and more narrow than an entire filmography. The focus of Chain Reactions is simply Tobe Hooper’s 1974 film, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, as seen through the eyes of five specially curated interview subjects.
The first of the documentary’s “Chapters” features stand-up comedian and known cinephile, Patton Oswalt, whose take on the film is broad, observational, and characteristically savvy. For those unfamiliar, Oswalt (of King of Queens fame) has what Marc Maron once referred to as a Rabelaisian wit—that is a hearty and down to earth kind of boisterous charm. Oswalt’s film analysis might best be described as Tarantino minus the narcissism. The most striking bits of his segment have him comparing the film to works of classic Hollywood. In a way, Texas Chainsaw Massacre is the deformed, distant cousin of golden era studio films—the dilapidated farmhouse like the derelict remains of Tara from Gone with the Wind, some of the more pretty looking landscapes shots would not be out of place in something like East of Eden.
Following Patton is transgressive Japanese auteur Takashi Miike, who mostly discusses the ways that the film influenced him as a director. Fans of Miike, or even just J-Horror, will find this to be a fascinating segment. Miike’s most insightful comments have to do with the reception of the film in Japan and the resulting image of Texas in the cultural imagination, as well as the nature of violence on film, specifically the result of portraying it graphically as opposed to making a bloodless simulation out of it.
Australian critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas brings a very in-depth and multidisciplinary style to her segment, likening the aesthetics of the film with the works of Francis Bacon and Hieronymous Bosch, while also offering several readings of the film through a feminist lens. Heller-Nicholas may be the least well-known of the interview subjects, and yet her segment is one of the most thought provoking and powerful. This is followed by a segment by Stephen King which is surprisingly the least interesting. King’s commentary on the film feels a lot like the blurbs he gives out willy-nilly to newly released horror novels every year. But there is an interesting bit where he talks about the ethics of violence on screen and how that relates to his work as a horror writer.
Finally, director and frequent collaborator of Phillippe’s, Karyn Kusama, gives a reading of the film as it relates to the rotten core of America, a popular interpretation the film which, despite its prevalence, still yields fruit. So much of Texas Chainsaw Massacre feels like a southern family trying to uphold some kind of romanticized vision of the American homestead, from the lavishly furnished country manor to the Rockwell-esque placement of the family around the dinner table. The mixture of violence and depravity with the wholesome iconography of a whitewashed colonial legacy is what makes both the film and the history of our country so macabre.
Ultimately, these interviews would be better suited to either a book or an expanded treatment. Perhaps a docuseries could be made out of material like this. In its current form, the interpretations in some ways seem too truncated, relying on generalizing language when there is no time to delve deeply. Phillippe has a definite sense of style in how he arranges images from the films and other archival footage, so in terms of the film essay form, it’s another pleasurable entry in his filmography. So none of this is to say the documentary isn’t good. It won’t be among the best of the year, but you’d be hard pressed to find a TCM fan who doesn’t get something good out of it. | Nic Champion
