On the poster for Chainsaws Were Singing, a blood-covered smiling face appears sideways next to a chainsaw made up of musical notes above the phrase “Texas Chainsaw meets Monty Python…and Les Misérables.” It’s quite the statement, speaking to a wide array of eclectic tastes. The combination of these very different genres is the reason Fantasia is one of the biggest genre festivals in the world and why we come back to the festival year after year. An export of Estonia, Chainsaws Were Singing joins the likes of Jesus Shows You the Way to the Highway and Kratt in the country’s continually growing slate of genre titles but carves out its own uniqueness with inventive songs and some madcap scenes.

Last year, Fantasia introduced many to Mike Cheslik’s Hundreds of Beavers, a Looney Tunes-inspired romp pitting an absent-minded Davy Crockett against an army of furries and one of the most creative uses for modern effects in genre filmmaking. Cut from the same cloth, Chainsaws Were Singing possesses a similar spirit. The film is slapstick-heavy and occasionally relies on implementing CGI effects. Not to be misunderstood, many practical effects and gallons of blood are employed in the movie, but a couple of early scenes incur some digital love. While noticeable, the scenes lean into the movie’s aesthetics to create something silly and joyful versus attempting to hide and deny their existence.

Director Sander Maran’s film takes very little seriously, starting with a blood-covered Killer (Martin Ruus) stalking a scurrying Maria (Laura Niils) on a road in the middle of nowhere. Imploring a hiker to help her, Maria warns the man of his impending doom. Denying her warnings, the man instead argues lumberjacks are friendly, though he’s in the wrong spot to be cutting down trees moments before being viscerally run through. Thus begins Chainsaws Were Singing’s Immediate references to Monty Python as thoughts of their musical lumberjack skit trickle through, only growing as the plot rewinds to when Maria meets Tom (Karl Ilves).

Meeting Tom at the end of his rope, the crushed young man threatens to end it all after a failed romance with a leap from a bridge that would barely give him a bruise. He bounces back instantly after spotting Maria, and the two begin a whirlwind romance cut short by “some fu*kface with a chainsaw.” Tom gets coldcocked and left in a ditch as Killer kidnaps Maria. In hot pursuit, the bulk of the film is Tom trying to catch up to the chainsaw-wielding maniac with the help of his newly made best friend Jann (Janno Puusepp), whom he meets while hitchhiking. The two are then continually sidetracked by exploding jalopies, Tom’s pessimism, and a Lovecraftian fridge-worshiping cult in the woods.

Notes of Texas Chain Saw Massacre bleed into Chainsaws Were Singing’s additional referendum of horror features with murderous families, such as The Gruesome Twosome, The Hills Have Eyes, and Mother’s Day as we meet Killer’s fascinating family. The film captures the aesthetics of those DIY horror titles by channeling the ethos of Hershel Gordon Lewis, Lloyd and Charles Kaufman, and Tobe Hooper. The comedy bits are just as intoxicating, with some inspired moments in the vein of Monty Python and Mel Brooks, like Jann’s constant mid-scene costume changes that parody inconsistencies in horror continuity. Meanwhile, some of the musical portions leave something to be desired.

While there isn’t an overabundance of musical numbers, most just sort of happen. Chainsaws Were Singing excessively spoofs the horror genre, but it doesn’t get as over-the-top with its musical interludes. In fact, only maybe half of them really hit it out of the park. Killer, who I should mention is mute, belts out his number about how his love for killing through a montage of murder. Maria sings a bitingly deadpan satirical number about waiting for her male savior after being captured. And a side-splitting number from the cult in the woods that’s so off-color and outlandish you can’t help but laugh through the gaps in your fingers as you hold it over your jaw-dropped mouth. The scene is unforgettable.

Chainsaws Were Singing is also more than the sum of its highly robust carols, gags, and gore. A side plot to the film gives insight into Killer’s psychology, who generally enjoys killing because he thinks it’s all he’ll ever be any good at. The film argues for beauty and following your passions over the mundane ritual of doing someone else’s bidding. Where killer characters in these films are typically one-note, it’s refreshing to see a Killer with a little more going on.

While I sing the praises of Chainsaws Were Singing’s stylish genre-blending execution, the film’s one-hundred-and-seventeen-minute runtime feels about twenty to thirty minutes too long. The film’s diversions are fun, yet at times seem unnecessary. The introduction of two bumbling cops (Thomas Kolli and Olavi Saar) provides some amusement, though it feels like it only sets them up to be shown later in the film. The same scene is also one of the most reliant on CGI and perhaps the most cringey as it deals with gun violence. It also doesn’t help that the intensely deadpan satirical scene takes place at what looks like a park or campus, either.

Though I’m certain my American is showing with my last criticism, it’s good to remember we’re already suspending belief for a satire about a serial killer. Regardless, Chainsaws Were Singing is an irreverent, absurdist comedy that plays in pools of viscera and will eviscerate your funnybone. It’s a ton of fun.