Leatherface is back to terrorize a group of young people, but you’re unlikely to feel much terror yourself if you opt to sit down and watch this straight-to-Netflix sequel. Despite some satisfyingly gory sequences and plenty of violence, there is something muted about this new Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Not bad so much as it is dreadfully forgettable, very little stands out for this franchise entry. The concept is fine–a group of entrepreneurs and their friends have taken over an abandoned Texas town with hopes to sell off its assets–but it doesn’t come close to the frightening original, or the glamor of the polished Jessica Biel remake. The enterpernial angle is a unique take, except all of the characters still feel like throwaway college rejects–not business people. A day later I’ve already forgotten who the primary protagonists were, or what happened to them. Leatherface is creepy, but of course he is; though he inflicts mass carnage, he fails to instill any sense of real dread.

The movie marks the return of Sally Hardesty, the lone survivor of the 1974 original. But who cares? Unless you’re a diehard fan of the franchise, her return (played by a different actress, as the original actress has passed) likely will mean nothing to you. After all, the only important characters in these movies is, indeed, the sadly misunderstood, skin-wearing villain.

At a lean 81 minutes and packed with grotesque kills–including a slaughter on a bus–Texas Chainsaw Massacre is never boring, nor without some entertainment value. But director David Blue Garcia fails to find the story’s emotional core–you could care less about any of these characters–which makes the experience feel as hollow as the eye sockets of Leatherface’s victims.

Review by Erik Samdahl unless otherwise indicated.