Texas Chainsaw

Leatherface is back, and in gloriously indifferent 3D for this semi-coherent, morally confused, clumsy and superfluous sequel. It offers more slicing and dicing by filmdom's favourite chainsaw-toting cannibal, who emerges implausibly from the basement of the old family home to butcher its new occupants. But there's a family tie, and blood ultimately proves thicker than slaughter. Almost 40 years separate this and Tobe Hooper's original everyday story of flesh-eating folk, but there's no Hooper this time and director John Luessenhop (Takers) fails to match the short, sharp shock of the 1974 classic. Instead, this is chock-full of missed opportunities, with precious little to satisfy even the most easily pleased of horror film fans. Clint Eastwood's son, Scott, has a prominent role, but this isn't something he'll want to write home about.