The Los Angeles County Coroner confirmed Hooper's death late on Saturday, according to Variety. The cause of death has not been revealed at present. Acclaimed horror filmmaker Tobe Hooper, who is perhaps best-known for his genre-defining 1974 classic, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, has died at the age of 74.
RELATED: The Monster in the Closet: Economic Horrors and Scary Movies
The Monster in the Closet: Economic Horrors and Scary Movies
The Monster in the Closet: Economic Horrors and Scary Movies
If you thought this classic horror movie was about a haunted house, see if this scenario sounds familiar: An idealistic young couple buys a home that sounds too good to be true. Once they're mortgaged to the hilt, problems start to crop up. They can't leave, they can't stay, and an unseen evil force starts to tear their family apart.
Filmmakers have used zombies to symbolize everything from faceless corporations to the inhumanity of the military industrial complex. In this early offering (and, to a lesser extent, in its remake), it isn't particularly hard to figure out the greater symbolism of a bunch of mindless, shambling zombies swarming into a shopping mall.
Speaking of mindless shambling, "Shaun of the Dead" used the same conceit to symbolize office work.
Everybody remembers Janet Leigh's death scene in the classic slasher flick. What they forget, though, is why she ended up in the Bates Motel in the first place: She was on the run after stealing a small fortune from her employer. As for the motel itself, it was facing hard times because the recently-unveiled highway drove away business.
For a funnier take on a similar story, you might try taking a peek at "Auntie Lee's Meat Pies", which manages to brilliantly combine cannibalism, serial murder and Pat Morita.
Forget ghosts and ghouls: Few things are scarier than asking the bank for a loan. But in this Sam Raimi-directed flick, the tables are turned as a young loan officer turns a deaf ear to a seemingly feeble gypsy woman trying to borrow some money. Needless to say, all hell breaks loose.
On the surface, this 1981 classic is the tale of super-evolved wolves preying on New Yorkers. Scratch a little deeper, though, and another story emerges: The tale of wealthy Manhattanites preying on poor people in the Bronx, then being themselves preyed upon by wolves. In other words, NYC in the 1970s was truly a dog-eat-dog world.
If you want another fix or two of class-based horror, check out "CHUD" and "Street Trash," both of explore the plight of New York's invisible homeless.
Sure, Stanley Kubrick's 1980 horror film is all about telepathic kids and haunted houses and elevators full of blood. But one of the first bits of fear and tension occurs in the hotel manager's office, where Jack Torrance, a recovering alcoholic who can't seem to hold onto a job, finds himself forced to beg for a gig as the winter caretaker of a resort hotel. Anybody who remembers the travails of searching for a job will recognize this truth: The nightmare isn't being trapped a haunted house -- it's having to grovel to get a job in a haunted house.
Angus Scrimm's Tall Man character is one of the more unnerving monsters in filmland: Not only does he steal the bodies of the dead, but he also steals the souls of towns. As Reggie and Mike travel cross country, it isn't hard to pick up his trail -- they just have to look for boarded-up stores, deserted streets and abandoned homes. Of course, for 1988 audiences facing the effects of outsourcing, the monster emptying out their towns was a little harder to explain.
For another take on the "monsters-as-suburban-economics" metaphor, take a peek at "Poltergeist." Between the unethical developer who didn't bother to relcoate a graveyard and the mindless TV that saps your soul, the Tobe Hooper classic manages to hit a host of cultural touchstones!
A whole subset of horror films is dedicated to rural families living off the land ... and the miserable travelers who happen across their path. It isn't hard to see why it might be an attractive premise: After all, there's no lack of people clinging to the bottom rung of the economic ladder, and it isn't hard to imagine that they may be one paycheck away from having to make their own clothes and hunt their own meat. What happens afterward ... well, that's where it gets really ugly.
If you want even more tips on living off the land (and curious teenagers), you might check out "The Hills Have Eyes," "Wolf Creek" and "Mother's Day." For a funny take on the same premise, try "Tucker and Dale Versus Evil."
In many ways, Hooper's work on Texas Chainsaw wrote the playbook for future indie horror successes. Even with a small budget — less than $300,000 — and a lack of marquee names, Chainsaw's gritty vibe and unflinching violence helped propel a $30 million box office.
While both movies lean on somewhat different filmmaking techniques, the success of both The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity owe much of their success to Chainsaw. It doesn't matter how much money or how many stars you have; a horror movie needs to be scary before anything else. Hooper recognized that.
That's where the 1986 Chainsaw sequel — which Hooper also directed — went wrong. It's been elevated to cult status in more recent times, but the gritty, grimy vibe of the originally was ditched in favor of a schlock gross-out comedy.
Hooper was no one-hit-wonder, however. His 1982 horror flick, Poltergeist, a ghostly fairy tale that did for haunted house stories what Chainsaw did gruesome shock horror.
Hooper stuck to various flavors of horror for most of his career, though it wasn't just big screen features. He also contributed memorable episodes to the Tales from the Crypt and Amazing Stories TV series' (among others), as well as the 1979 TV miniseries based on Stephen King's vampire novel, Salem's Lot.
Hooper's final film, Djinn, is a supernatural thriller produce by Image Nation, an Arabian film company, in the United Arab Emirates. It debuted at the Abu Dhabi Film Festival in 2013 but has yet to see a theatrical release.