'Chainsaws Were Singing' is a Rip-Roaring 'Texas Chain Saw' Parody Full of Gut-Splitting Humor [Fantastic Fest Review]

​You know the scene. Sally Hardesty rides in the back of a pickup truck, unblinking eyes peering out of her blood-soaked face as she laughs the laugh of a woman officially off her rocker. A frustrated, chainsaw-wielding Leatherface dances with his machine of death in the glow of the rising sun like a maniac ballerina. Now imagine those final moments spread out over two hours and complete with musical numbers, and you have Chainsaws Were Singing—which just played at Fantastic Fest—from Estonian director Sander Maran. A rip-roaring parody of Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, it’s a film seeped in such absolute madness that it’ll split you open and have you laughing your guts out.
 
Moments before he’s about to take his own life, Tom (Karl Ilves) meets Maria (Laura Nills). And just like that, they’ve fallen in love, only to be interrupted by a chainsaw-wielding Killer (Martin Ruus), who kidnaps Maria and takes her back to his family of cannibalistic maniacs. Enlisting the help of a random stranger on the road named Jaan (Janno Puusepp), the two set off like a Mario and Luigi duo to save Maria from a stomach-churning death.
 
Let me be clear up front. Chainsaws Were Singing is absolutely batshit. It’s a screaming chainsaw to the face (and even where the sun don’t shine, in one brief instance). Consider it the theater kid version of Hooper’s classic, dressed in tights and skipping around with a manic energy. We’re dropped right into the middle of a chase between a shrieking Maria and the blood-soaked Killer, and we’re off on this wild journey that’s equal parts oddball romance and over-the-top gore. In one moment, Maria is singing about Tom’s sweaty armpits and wax-filled ears, and in the next, Killer is shoving his chainsaw through some poor chump, gallons of blood painting the screen. There are dim-witted cops shooting at a little girl they just stole the bike of. Jaan can’t leave a car without it exploding. This is the type of film that’s so funny it hurts. All that kept me from cackling the whole way through was the utter exhaustion of nearly two hours of such unfiltered madness.

​His debut feature, Sander Maran saws onto the scene with this unforgettable musical parody that flexes some serious filmmaking skills. The filmmaker directs scenes with the insane vivacity of early Peter Jackson, complete with uncomfortable closeups that occasionally make you feel like you’re losing your mind. There’s even a little bit of George Miller working into chase scenes with quick camera movements and editing that roars like a V-8 engine. More than anything though, Chainsaws Were Singing is The Texas Chain Saw Massacre by way of Monty Python. Chainsaws sing. Cuddly creatures attack. And a host of imbecilic characters sing, dance and trip their way through a simple premise made fresh by Maran’s unhinged approach. I should warn those of you with thin stomachs that for as fun as this film is, it is packed full of queasy effects that ranges from limb chopping to eyeball salad. In the words of the late, great Bill Paxton, it’s finger-licking good (but gross!).
 
For all of the bonkers gore and mad as hell humor, what really revs Chainsaws Were Singing up to a level of excellence is the amount of heart pulsing through its veins. Of course, there’s Maria and Tom’s absurd yet sweet relationship that twists slasher conventions like those poor twins in Hellraiser 4. But Ruus also infuses his Killer with empathetic bones. Raised by a vicious Mother (Rita Rätsepp), he struggles between killing and wondering if there’s more to life (of course there’s a song about that). Even his psychotic twin brothers/lovers, Pepe (Ra Ragnar Novod) and Kevin (Henryk Johan Novod) dream of growing old together at their own place (yes, it’s weird). And then there’s Killer’s little brother, Pelle (Peeter Maran) who has no interest in killing, but only wants to paint. Maran manages to go beyond the applause-worthy blood-letting and catchy songs into a basic yet relevant theme of hope. Hope that things will get better. That we’ll find that person that completes our lives. That there’s more to all of this than what’s on the surface. At the same time that the filmmaker is splitting your sides with outrageous humor, he offers a touching counter to the shocking bleakness of Hooper’s Chain Saw. Things may seem bad, but they could always be worse. You could have a couple of incestual twins slowly sawing your leg off for lunch. Food for thought. 
 
Though it overstays its welcome a bit at nearly two hours, threatening to burn the audience out from silly overload, Chainsaws Were Singing is both a loving ode to Hooper’s Texas Chain Saw and a hysterical parody that saws into the humorous side of the madness. Lively music, entertaining characters and enough blood to fill a swimming pool should endear just about anyone who likes a little song and dance with their violent, cannibalistic horror.

By Matt Konopka