Netflix’s ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ Has a Post-Credits Scene [Spoilers]

Last year’s Sundance Film Festival brought period Gothic horror Eight for Silver from writer/director Sean Ellis. The filmmaker introduced exciting new werewolf lore and gruesome gore, but it got bogged down by superfluous subplots and pacing issues. The film has since been retooled, recut, and retitled The Cursed. The updated feature doesn’t entirely excise all flaws, but the streamlined Gothic horror now makes for a much cleaner and improved viewing experience.

The Cursed opens to an action-packed sequence set in a World War I trench. Gas and bullets rain down on the masked soldiers, resulting in mass injuries and casualties. We follow a wounded soldier to the med tent, past primitive amputations and blood-drenched men. Graphically, a doctor digs bullets out of one man’s torso, who then dies when a foreign, silver shell is plucked from his abdomen. The film then cuts to thirty-five years prior, where the church and village elders decide to massacre gypsies, resulting in a curse like no other.

There’s a vast well of potential behind Ellis’s latest. The filmmaker doesn’t skimp on the atmosphere or gore. The inciting event that sets off the curse is horrific, and the pervading imagery that sets that curse in motion offers memorable nightmare fuel. Primarily thanks to a chilling scarecrow. This unique form of curse relies on some biblical evils, and the werewolf mythology itself gives thrilling glimpses of body horror that suggests The Thing influenced the new lore.

Once the curse sets in, the town enlists pathologist John McBride (The Predator’s Boyd Holbrook) for answers. McBride’s skill set and experience with curses make him a Van Helsing-type that’s as close to a hero as the feature gets. Despite the blood on his hands, Seamus Laurent (Alistair Petrie) presents the icy town elder unwilling to listen to McBride. His wife Isabelle (Kelly Reilly) is kept at a distance until the curse hits close to home.

The Cursed never gets too deep with characterization; it instead attempts to give a broad overview of the repercussions. The aftermath of the gypsy massacre rips through the town, beginning with the children. That becomes the streamlined focus of the narrative. The fallout from a devastating genocidal event gets placed on the younger generation’s shoulders to bear and continues to get passed down for years to come.

Though with a lower body count than expected, the werewolf rips through the town. The deaths can get brutal and gory, but many are handled off-screen. The beast’s design is unique, though it’s obscured and hidden from view as much as possible, with many of the deaths off-screen or via shaky camera work. There’s no mystery to the creature’s identity, and it does play out pretty much as expected.

Ellis presents some fresh werewolf ideas and mythology. There’s some stellar gore work on display, even if those scenes tend to come few and far between. The production is gorgeous, and it offers moody atmosphere in spades. The broader perspective means it’s hard to find rooting interest among a cast of characters we never really get to know, and the unhurried pacing can make the film sag in stretches. The opening prologue ultimately doesn’t contribute much, except a minor point to support the film’s generational trauma thesis. Still, it’s a well-crafted period piece with standout horror moments thanks to fresh mythology and a chilling scarecrow that’ll haunt your dreams.

The Cursed releases in theaters on February 18, 2022.