
You’ve seen this movie before. An attractive young woman, one of those ingénue actresses you kind of recognize but can’t quite place, decides to run out on her fiancé. Maybe he’s abusive, we’re not sure, but we watch her clearing her things out of their apartment in a rush, leaving her engagement ring on the counter, grabbing a bottle of Scotch (remember that bottle) on the way out the door, and then driving, driving, out of a city and into the deep country: woods, fields, nobody to call, nobody to help — the dark territory of Norman Bates and Leatherface …