The Light of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
on the sun, day, horizon, Saint Augustine, headlights, moon, formlessness...
If Saint Augustine, in his Confessions, claims that formlessness lies somewhere to the side of nothingness, a hair away from abyssal darkness, an instantless instant of the not-yet formed, then Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) dilates this not-quite, this almost-nothing and carves out a space for the sun to rot, for forms to decompose as…