Tobe Hooper redefined the horror genre in 1974 with “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” The film worked because it was realistic. Some audience members actually thought it was a snuff film.

Hooper hadn’t created some abomination of impossible horrors. By loosely basing his film on real happenings and relying on frantic handheld camerawork he harnessed the outer possibilities of human cruelty and derangement. He told audiences that this could happen to them. And that just killed them.

With a total budget of about $150,000, Hooper’s “TCM” has grossed more than $100 million to date. It has also given the world new fears: Leatherface and the potential for unrestricted human evil.

So why even attempt to remake the film? Anyone who has seen Gus Van Sant’s flaccid attempt to remake Hitchcock’s “Psycho” can understand the risk involved. And to add more skepticism into the mix, producer Michael Bay is using the film primarily as a springboard to introduce his new production company, Platinum Dunes (a joint venture with Radar Pictures). So he has a double motive for dishing out the hype. Luckily for us, “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” lives up to it.

The new film does not find itself trapped within the confines of Hooper and Kim Henkel’s original script. Screenwriter Scott Kosar introduces enough new material to separate the two versions. The opening sequence fulfills the gritty documentary requirements and boxes the main plot of the film with an agile realism. His reworking of the hitchhiker scene at the beginning of the film (which actually won him the job) splatters and drips intensity, twisting the audience’s stomachs almost as much as those of the ill-fated protagonists.

“Texas Chainsaw Massacre” is also one of the most beautifully shot slasher movies ever. In a genre known more for its unique death sequences (see the shish kabob scene in 1981’s “Happy Birthday to Me” or the immense reservoir of goofy deaths in the “Friday the 13th” canon), a film that meditates on the sublime sky and rusted Americana of rural Texas is welcome surprise and refreshment. This has everything to do with original “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” cinematographer, Daniel Pearl, signing on for the remake. His work with director Marcus Nispel is harrowing, as the ravenous scenery soaks up “TCM’s” visceral terror and the character’s spiraling claustrophobia. The remake was even shot on the same location as the original.

Although the creation of a few minor plot points jeopardizes the integrity and randomness of the carnage, overall the film is an emotive punch to the jugular. “TCM” stays far away from the self-referential coyness of “Scream” and its cache of unworthy imitations and opts for prolonged scenes that induce emotional dissonance.

Jessica Biel (“7th Heaven”) and Eric Belfour (“Six Feet Under”) lead the crew of five likable teens as they make their way to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert. It’s 1973 timepiece qualities like this that add exponentially to the film. The teens stop after almost hitting a disoriented and wandering girl who speaks only in cryptic fragments. The rest of the film finds our heroes stuck deep within a sinister community, trying to survive an onslaught of horrors.

R. Lee Ermey (“Full Metal Jacket”) pulls out the film’s best performance as the crazed Sheriff Hoyt. His demonic take on the law and uncouth crime-scene etiquette quickly evaporate the façade of some kooky county sheriff.

After keeping his identity secret throughout production, Andrew Bryniarski’s Leatherface comes off as a studied revamp of Gunnar Hansen’s original remorseless killer. One scene finds Leatherface (aka Thomas Hewitt) salting and papering the stump of a newly severed leg as his victim dangles, still alive and screaming, on a meat hook.

Although “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” does not break any new ground, it reestablishes the classic horror film experience. Theaters are reacting to “TCM’s” suspense and violence in a way that hasn’t been seen since the scary movie boom of the late 70’s and early 80’s. It doles out the intensity with some of the best horror sequences in years and thankfully lives up to the hype.

Grade A/B