How many chainsaw massacres can one state possibly contain? One more, at least, from the look of “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning,” a prequel to a remake of a 1974 film that spawned numerous sequels and numberless copycats. There’s more to come, no doubt, given the bloodlust for torture and indifference to depravity characteristic of contemporary horror films. Every era gets the scare pictures it deserves, and there is nothing more unsettling in this orgy of hate than its overwhelming stench of corporate nihilism.

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Van Redin/New Line Cinema
R. Lee Ermey in “Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning.”

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Written by Sheldon Turner and directed by Jonathan Liebesman, “The Beginning” mindlessly repeats the archetypal “Chainsaw” scenario. Four hotties (Taylor Handley, Matt Bomer, Jordana Brewster, Diora Baird) venture into backwoods Texas and are set upon by a clan of psychopathic cannibal hillbillies. The sick twist is that while the youngsters ostensibly function as an audience surrogate (who wouldn’t want to be that sexy and avoid being disemboweled?), the movie’s real sympathies lie with that clan, the Hewitts. The film delights in exploring their iconography. Where did Leatherface (Andrew Bryniarski) get his flesh mask, and how did he come to select his signature power tool? What’s the back story of Officer Hoyt (R. Lee Ermey), and why does he eat people?

The answers are beside the point. The movie exists to brutalize. Like “The Passion of the Christ,” it is an invitation to hard-core sadism. Mel Gibson tried to turn atrocity into spiritual catharsis. The producers of “The Beginning” merely package it, sell it to the masses and hope they don’t vomit in their nachos.