A triumph of foreboding atmosphere and gritty style, Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is no doubt one of the most influential horror films of all time. Its status has acquired almost mythical proportions. Stories have circulated for years about how its first audiences fainted or threw up. It’s believed by many to have been one of the most unpleasantly graphic movies ever shown on screen.

A gang of hippies, including two couples and an irritating but oddly knowing wheelchair-bound guy, are traveling across rural Texas where they visit an abandoned family house. Straying onto a neighboring property, the hapless youngsters find themselves the victims of a family consisting of a manic, disgusting hitchhiker they'd picked up earlier, the huge, brutish simpleton Leatherface, the local garage owner and cook, and their wizened, ancient grandfather. With skills picked up from working at the local abattoir, the family prey on those unfortunate enough to come their way.

In spite of its reputation, the movie is in fact remarkably un-graphic. Far more terror is generated from the sounds of a chainsaw or screaming, than from the sight of actual flesh being chopped. And even when occasional acts of violence are shown, they are amazingly quick and almost entirely blood free. Hooper is so skilled a director, with so firm a grip on atmosphere and tension, that you’re leaving this film convinced that you’ve seen much more than he ever actually revealed.

Extraordinarily committed performances from the whole cast, adept direction and editing, effective production design and a powerful soundtrack come together to first create an near-crazy sense of dread. Then, when the protagonists encounter the cannibalistic family, the viewer is thrown into a nightmare world. The chainsaw-wielding Leatherface and his cohorts are really only defending their property and their way of life against outside intrusion, exercising their constitutionally enshrined rights to their own logical (and absurd) conclusion.

The movie does offer some hilarious undertones. There is something absurdly recognizable about the cannibalistic family at the centre of this movie, in spite of its inbred backwardness. The grandfather whose words are uttered for him by everyone else. The son who just wants to be an artist (albeit with corpses as his medium) while his brother Leatherface stays at home doing all the work. It’s shocking, but also darkly funny, to see in this band of sickos something that resembles any family you’ve ever known.

Leatherface, the apron-wearing skin-masked butcher of the family, emerged as one of cinema's most original screen killers. Nothing can prepare the virgin viewer for the first appearance of Gunnar Hansen’s highly-strung character, as he lunges into view clutching his slaughter sledge-hammer. He has since become a cult icon.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a movie that doesn’t so much scare its viewers, but rather traumatizes them, bludgeoning them with scenes of psychological and physical torment. If you're looking for cheap frights, see a more conventional horror movie. But if you want to feel like you've actually been battered by an agonizing, visceral experience, this is the ultimate viewing experience for you.