Oh, man. Where do I begin? This movie is hysterical. The fact that everyone plays it so straight makes it even better. It opens with a boy piecing together a nudie jigsaw puzzle. Then he kills his mother with an axe. Cue the awesome credits. Are you hooked yet? Just wait. Forty years later he’s a chainsaw wielding maniac killing girls on a college campus, collecting body parts and making a human jigsaw puzzle. Yes! It’s a veritable whodunit. Is it the dean? The anatomy professor? The maintenance man? It hardly matters, as this movie is really more about being visually shocking (i.e. copious amounts of super fake looking blood, waxy body parts flying, women running around topless). Girls get hacked to bits and this movie shows everything. I mean EVERYTHING. “It’s a masterpiece of early 80s sleaze,” as Eli Roth said. I think providing a plot with substance was the last thing on the director’s mind because, let’s face it, folks, it’s utterly ridiculous nonsense. You’ll watch this movie scratching your head, trying to make sense of it all. Don’t strain your brain. It’s part of what makes Pieces so delightful.

I was hooked at matricide but as soon as Lynda Day screamed “Bassstaaaard!” about ten times at the top of her lungs I was in love. If I have to be stranded on some desert island I want, nay, need to be able to watch this gem at least once a week.