You don’t have to go to Texas for a singing and dancing chainsaw massacre.

According to the official site, Chainsaws Are Singing was shot guerilla style in 2013, then spent a decade in post-production. Estonian filmmakers Sander Maran and Karl-Joosep Ilve describe their film as “Monty Python meets The Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets… Les Misérables?”

Somehow, it lives up to that description and so much more.

And it’s from Estonia.

Tom (Karl-Joosep Ilve) thought that this was the worst day ever. His girlfriend has left him, leading him to considering suicide. That’s when he falls instantly in love with Maria (Laura Niils) and gets a new best friend in Jaan (Jaano Puusepp). This all gets ruined — and the day will get much worse — when they run into Killer (Martin Ruus) and his deranged family.

Now, that could be any horror movie made since Tobe Hooper put a cast through hell in the middle of a hot Texas summer and then lost the movie to organized crime. This is a deeply personal musical that’s nearly two hours of jokes every few seconds and stuffed full of singalongs and a chainsaw solo.

Imagine if early Peter Jackson, Sam Raimi outside a cabin, Trey Parker and Matt Stone all formed a band, then went and saw Gwar and thought, “Can we add even more blood and body fluids to what we’ve created? And what if a bukkake cult in the woods worshipped a fridge?”

This reminds me of when parodies were of the Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker style instead of the horrible post Scary Movie dreck that passes for jibes at fim today. If one joke fails, stick around. There will be five more in the next second or two. It’s all too much and I mean that in the best of ways, as even its director said that it’s “too violent…too naughty…definitely too musical.”

Does every car really have to explode? Yes. Could the entire backwoods cult subplot be lost? Of course. But you know, these guys made the movie they wanted, one that even has a Pieces flashback and a mother (Rita Rätsepp) who has made his life into one of killing and a little brother who paints himself painting the same painting over and over again. It’s that rare film that allows you to not question things, to accept them, to feel like maybe you need something to block all the blood that has to be spraying out of the screen before too long. It’s not to be missed, as it was made with joy and delivers even more of that.

Too much is never enough.