By Keri O’Shea
A lot of cult movie stars end up being synonymous with one of their qualities or attributes, but for me, Marilyn Burns will forever be associated with her scream.
I first encountered The Texas Chain Saw Massacre on a copied VHS cassette as a teenager, just like many others (I Spit On Your Grave being the other film on that tape, which made for some introduction to 70s horror and exploitation). I knew the film by its formidable reputation only, having seen some stills reproduced in the independent press and nothing more – no internet, no plot synopses, no trailer reels. I wasn’t even sure if the film was in colour. It of course was, and even refracted through the murk of several copies, it was a lurid affair, though its opening scenes were starkly-lit death scenes. It is an unflinching intro telling us in no uncertain terms that terrible things had already happened – but to whom?
TCM, made forty years ago, was way too early to be weighed down with expectations of how things should be done, or the importance of audience expectations, or Final Girls. It was full-on rookie nastiness, and though the group of traveling kids we encounter in frankly the worst advertisement for Texas would seem to be in danger, we have no way of knowing what will happen or indeed, ‘who will survive and what will be left of them’. However, The Family pick off most of Sally’s friends quite quickly. Although the early, notably bloodless killings make for remarkable scenes, it is Sally’s ordeal which makes up the bulk of the rest of the film.
And boy, could that girl scream. And boy, who could blame her? The dinner table scene set the bar on both physical and psychological torture, with Ms. Burns screaming so continually that it almost becomes background noise at some points – almost. But her confusion, her desperation and her wild-eyed terror ensure that her plight remains believable – we care about Sally. When she finally escapes from Leatherface, leaving that warped fucker swinging his chainsaw in frustration, the audience is with her. They want someone to survive, and her utter jubilation makes us so glad it’s her. Sally’s escape is one of the most famous, most formative scenes in horror history.
It’s (literally) criminal that this seminal movie didn’t make the cast and crew a fortune, what with the mobsters who muscled in on distribution soaking up most of the killer profits made by the film in following years. It certainly limited Marilyn Burns’ future prospects and it certainly took a lot of the impetus out of working as an actress, which of course it would. She should have been huge, but she didn’t act in many more roles – despite again working with Hooper on a Texas/cannibalism schtick in Eaten Alive a few years later, and then in a handful of other parts during the rest of her cinematic career: biker horror Kiss Daddy Goodbye, Future-Kill (which I confess I haven’t seen) and the decent Manson drama, Helter Skelter. Still, it’s such a short filmography for an actress who starred in one of the most famous gonzo horror movies of all time, and this is something which will always feel like an injustice.
Marilyn Burns’ death at the age of 65 is a sad loss, and we’re in her debt for her part in the history of the horror genre. A lot has happened in the forty years which have passed since The Texas Chain Saw Massacre appeared – a hell of a lot – but one of those things relates to a phrase. The phrase is ‘scream queen’, and it has come to mean many things, for good or ill. Yet Marilyn Burns will always be the original scream queen – as well as one of our best-loved final girls. She did all of this with both good grace and modesty.