Four friends travelling by van through the wide open spaces of Texas stop off for gas at a seemingly deserted country house, and are plunged into a hideous nightmare when they become prey for a family of demented, inbred cannibals, who operate a roadside barbecue stand which offers some suspiciously succulent meat dishes. Loosely (very loosely) based on the real-life crimes of down-South cannibal killer Ed Gein, the über-low-budget Texas Chain Saw Massacre (yes, "chain saw" is two words here, thanks very much) is still as relentless, intense and disturbing as it ever was-though, like George Romero's Night of the Living Dead five years previously, its powerful impact has more to do with the skillful suggestion of violence and a brilliantly maintained atmosphere of unceasing terror rather than actual onscreen gore. And in Leatherface, the burly, chainsaw-wielding brute clad in a blood-splattered apron and a mask made of human flesh, Chain Saw introduced the first true icon of modern horror cinema.