Michael Bay launched his Platinum Dunes production company with this remake, which eschews the restraint of Tobe Hooper's original in favour of a succession of gory set-pieces. The Boston Globe wasnt fooled, however: As the eviscerations ensue, the truth becomes undeniable: this is easily the most gruesome, most pointless episode of Scooby Doo ever. Bay's first mistake was hiring Andrew Bryniarski, who'd appeared in the Scooby Doo movie (as "Cavern Henchman") a year earlier, to play Leatherface. His second was giving audiences five teenagers in a van who (if such a thing is possible) have even less personality than the members of Mystery Inc. When these cartoonish clods encounter Creepy Kids and start poking around in The Old Dark House, where a cat jumps out at them and runs away, the movie is warning you not to take it seriously. Which is a smart move, because when R. Lee Ermey ("I smell bullsh*t!") appears as a Sheriff so wicked his face ought to be lit by a flash of lightning, the picture moves into high camp. He's not really a lawman, he's a cannibal with Leatherface for a stepson, and the town's residents are all inbred psychopaths. This is the American nightmare, Scooby-style: a place where the adults are evil, authority is abused and young folks are fair game. (See also: Bay's remakes of Friday The 13th and A Nightmare On Elm Street).