Feaure Length Review: 'Eaten Alive' (1977)

1974 saw the release of a watershed horror movie, a defining moment in cinematic history that would break box-office records and influence a generation of fright filmmakers hoping to make their mark in the genre they loved. Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is an unrelenting exercise in the macabre, a film so fueled by brutal ferocity and sweat-inducing cruelty that it still has the power to rupture the minds of anyone who watches it – even 35 years after its unleashing upon the world. With one bona-fide classic under his belt, Hooper quickly followed up his success with another rural terror tale inspired by the real life crimes of Joe Ball – a serial killer who reportedly fed his victims to live alligators in his home-made pond in Elemendorf, Texas. Largely unseen by critics and many genre fans, Eaten Alive is an interesting little footnote in Hooper’s career and a fittingly nasty addition in an otherwise hit/miss filmography.



THE LOWDOWN: Old-timer redneck Judd (Neville Brand) is the proud owner of the Starlight Hotel – a rundown flophouse on the outskirts of town that hardly ever sees a customer. Built up in the front of the hotel is a caged off swap that houses his pet crocodile, a prized possession from Africa with a never-ending lifespan. However, this croc is more than just an obscure sight for passer-bys – it’s also a means to dispose of the dead bodies Judd accumulates on a regular basis in order to satisfy his murderous needs! When fledging prostitute Clara (Roberta Collins) disappears and eventually meets her fate at the hands of Judd, the young woman’s father Harvey (Mel Ferrer) and sister Libby (Crystin Sinclaire) come looking for answers, enlisting the services of the local sheriff (Stuart Whitman) in their search. But are they any match for a maniac and his monstrous mammal?



THE TERROR TALE & ITS TIMING: While it wouldn’t be entirely constructive to compare Eaten Alive to Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw, one can’t help but notice the glaring similarities between the two films, if not solely for their rural horror influences. Both movies are an assault on the senses; ultra-low budget nasties that generate their lasting power from merciless pacing, granular production aesthetics and the sheer insanity of their central villains. Also, there’s something inherently threatening about the backwater civilisations of rustic Texas and Hooper has come to make this the raison detre in many of his films. Whether it be its sense of isolation for tourists, the obscure personalities inhabiting certain areas or simply the fear of the unknown countryside, the significance of the red state to horror films in general has become ingrained in our psyche forever, credited in no small part to films like this. The stark simplicity of rural surroundings and their scarceness of population help create a uniquely bleak atmosphere often absent in otherwise urban horror movies.



There is also a certain hopelessness and trepidation intrinsic to Alvin Fast and Kim Henkel (co-writer of TCM)’s screenplay that make the subsequent efforts by Harvey and Libby to find their fellow family member alive all the more tragic. From the moment they step onto Judd’s property they are doomed to fall by his blade and no endeavour on behalf of local law enforcement can change their fates. The town itself is a dead end for any and all visitors and the old man’s blatant psychotic tendencies coupled with his unquenchable thirst for blood equate to a mousetrap so inescapable that nearly the entire cast is either shot, stabbed, impaled or chomped by the end of the movie (my apologies for any spoilers, cretans). And while it may not be as nightmarish as TCM, Eaten Alive’s lurid sense of self is well sustained throughout its 90 minutes, giving rise to a genuinely bizarre tale suitably polluted with perverse pleasure.



DOOMED CHARACTERS: No matter how seasoned or new to the genre you may be one thing any genre fan will acknowledge of Hooper’s work is his frighteningly good knack for creating genuinely psychotic onscreen villains. Arguably one of the most insane characters in cinema history, Leatherface from TCM is a mumbling, sqwealing, repulsive momma’s boy bereft of any civilized interaction with the rest of society and thus destined to live alone in squalor with the rest of his fellow family of lunatics. By comparison Judd instead has the ability to put on an effective façade to those unaware of his mental dysfunction, making his personality more akin to the behaviour of most serial killers and sociopaths. With this in mind Neville Brand chews up the role with great relish as he consistently blends a sense of the character’s enjoyment of murder as well has his subsequent disgust for it. And when he’s not feeding prey to his pet prehistoric or patching up his wooden leg, Judd’s many wandering rants throughout the hotel – supposedly a coping mechanism to justify his actions - are in themselves strangely fascinating to watch. The film also sports a number of other solid performances by genre veterans, including TCM scream queen Marilyn Burns and the beloved Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger from the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise) in a role Quentin Tarantino later shamelessly ripped off for his kung fu epic Kill Bill.



THE LOOK OF FEAR: Much like TCM, Eaten Alive’s celluloid strip looks like it was soaked, soiled and stained in a bath of toxic waste for six months, giving the entire film a veneer of unadulterated git and grime that further highlight its exploitive intentions. Whether inside the cramped confides of Miss Hattie’s whorehouse or roaming amid the exterior of Judd’s backyard, the overall lighting scheme is reminiscent of the red light district in Amsterdam – a stark contrast to the warm colours surrounding the rest of the town. And while it may not be subtle it is an interesting stylistic choice by Robert Caramico and his generally slick cinematography helps elevate the film out from under the swap bed. As far as the grue goes the movie features a number of nasty kills – both at the hands of Judd as well as the croc’s jaw bones – and all are upfront, bloody and vicious...much like the rest of the film! However, the croc itself is a somewhat underwhelming effects creation, no doubt reflective of the miniscule budget and limited production means. But in the end it really doesn’t matter a great deal as the film’s overall bare-bones aesthetic is complimentary to its economical restraints.



THE SOUND OF FEAR: With its nihilistic tone best by the open credits the score that backs Eaten Alive for the remainder of its running time is equally downbeat, co-composed by none other than Hooper himself. Hooper currently has 3 composing credits to his name (TCM and its underrated sequel), each fittingly minimalist in nature and using only the simplest of arrangements, however to great effect. The music screams, slices and stings in consistently high-pitched notes, especially during each murder sequence in order to accentuate the victim’s pain and suffering. In many ways Hooper’s spotting is more sound effects-driven rather than being reminiscent of traditional musical accompaniment styles. It’s definitely one of the strengths of the film and highly enjoyable to listen to.



FINAL THOUGHTS: Entertaining, nasty and never compromising its nature, Eaten Alive is somewhat of a lost mini-classic on Hooper’s resume’ and still has the power to shock even the most seasoned genre vet. Its gleefully twisted self-awareness and grindhouse sensibilities make it perfect viewing for those unacquainted with 70s horror while memorable for those with a soft spot for southern-inspired exploitation. Either way, its trench-coating of grime is so thick that it’ll still make you feel like having a good, long shower after viewing.

Dir: Tobe Hooper
Writer: Kim Henkel & Alvin L. Fast
Cast: Neville Brand, Mel Ferrer, Marilyn Burns, Robert Englund
Country: USA
Run Time: 91min
Rated: R18+