Editorials
Every Character in ‘Leatherface’ Who Connects to a Previous ‘Chainsaw’ Film
The saw is most definitely family in brand new prequel Leatherface.
Now available exclusively through DirecTV, with a traditional VOD release to follow on October 20, Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo’s Leatherface returns to the continuity of the original franchise, taking place before both the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre and 2013’s Texas Chainsaw 3D.
The events of Leatherface are set in two different time periods, kicking off 18 years before Tobe Hooper’s classic (1955) and then jumping ahead to just 8 years before Sally Hardesty and friends crossed paths with the twisted family (1965). One of the coolest things about the film, penned by Seth M. Sherwood, is that it’s loaded with fun ties to the franchise’s past, most of which go weirdly unacknowledged or only mentioned in passing.
To make sure you know exactly who’s who in Leatherface, we’ve put together a handy little guide that points out all of the fun character connections. We think you’ll get a whole lot more enjoyment out of the film if you’re armed with this knowledge going in…
TED HARDESTY
Early on in the film, we meet a young man and woman whose names we never learn; they appear very briefly in the film, confined to a single scene that plays during the opening credits. Only by looking on IMDb would you realize that the male character, played by Julian Kostov, is actually Ted Hardesty… the father of Sally and Franklin!
Writer Sherwood explained the subtle connection to us recently.
“Yes, Ted Hardesty is Sally’s dad,” he told us months ago. “There was a later scene that went into it, but it was cut for budget reasons. I don’t know if we ever hear Ted’s last name in the movie as it is– but he’s there briefly. I mean, Grandpa Hardesty’s farm was in walking distance of the Sawyers, sooooo…”
Eighteen years before Sally and Franklin arrived at the Sawyer house, their father had his own experience with the family as a young man. Pretty cool!
GRANDPA SAWYER
Easily the most bizarre character in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is Grandpa, an ancient corpse who feeds on human blood. Grandpa Sawyer appears in most films throughout the franchise, but Leatherface introduces us to him as a living, breathing old man for the very first time. The film even shows us his weapon of choice, serving to explain his bizarre role in the infamous dinner scene in the 1974 classic.
DRAYTON SAWYER
Referred to as “Cook” and “Old Man” in the original film, we learned in Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 that Leatherface’s oldest brother is named Drayton Sawyer. The memorable character was played by Jim Siedow in the first two films, with Bill Moseley taking over the role for his brief appearance in Texas Chainsaw 3D. Drayton is back in Leatherface, giving us a glimpse into what he was like as a much younger man.
Hint: he was just as sick and twisted back then.
NUBBINS SAWYER
Another thing that Leatherface takes from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 is the name Nubbins Sawyer, who is of course the same character known as “The Hitchhiker” in the original. We catch up with Nubbins at two different points in the film, first in 1955 as a child and then later in 1965, played by Dejan Angelov. The couple scenes that Nubbins appears in are darkly lit, but if you look closely you can spot the facial birthmark that identifies him as the sadistic character Edwin Neal played in the original film.
VERNA SAWYER
Verna Sawyer-Carson, the matriarch of the family, is played by The Conjuring star Lili Taylor in Leatherface, and the character has a fairly sizable role in the film. As we learned in Texas Chainsaw 3D, Verna is the mother of Leatherface and the grandmother of Heather Miller; in a fun little tribute, Verna was played in that film by the original Sally, Marilyn Burns.
Leatherface is really the first time we’ve ever gotten to know Verna, which is another little treat for longtime fans of the Chainsaw franchise.
HAL HARTMAN
The connections found in Leatherface aren’t just in regards to the Sawyer family; Stephen Dorff’s Hal Hartman, though never outright mentioned in the film, is the father of Chainsaw 3D‘s Burt Hartman (Paul Rae). Burt was one of the men who burnt down the Sawyer family home immediately after the events of the first film, and he later became mayor and waged war on the family. Dorff’s Hal Hartman is out for revenge in Leatherface, stopping at nothing, like his son later would, to put an end to the family once and for all.
As Sherwood explained to us, Hartman was also inspired by Dennis Hopper’s character in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2.
“From Chainsaw 2 I borrowed a few things. Obviously, the character names,” he explained. “Mainly though, the idea of a corrupt, mentally unstable Texas Ranger on a vendetta against the Sawyers gave birth to Hartman, the real villain of my story. Like Lefty, he’s out for revenge against the Sawyers over something they did to his family.”
Similarly, new character Clarice was inspired by Chainsaw 2‘s Chop Top.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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