You know, you see a lot of movies try to capture the magic of the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, but I've never seen a movie wear it's love of that movie's sequels so boldly on its sleeve. These are clearly signifiers wielded by an unrestrained aesthete with no clue how to make an actual movie, but I find the relentless, always-at-100 energy too intoxicating to really care. Somehow reminds me of outsider montage classics like Gummo & Reflections of Evil just as much (if not more) than it does of any grindhouse touchstones. Make of that what you will, but there sure as hell isn't anything else quite like this in the horror world.