Curious Historian

By Sarah Norman | April 28, 2024

The Room

Are you ready, dear readers, to comb through some of the best 'so bad they're good' movies ever made? Throughout film history there exists a category of cinema that defies all conventional notions of quality, where incompetence becomes an art form and hilarity ensues as a byproduct of earnest ambition gone horribly awry. These cinematic gems aren't just bad; they're gloriously, unapologetically, and irresistibly bad. They are the kind of movies that leave you questioning the very fabric of reality, wondering how such spectacular misfires could ever make it to the silver screen.

From the bafflingly bizarre narrative choices of The Room to the otherworldly horrors of Troll 2, and the intergalactic incompetence of Plan 9 From Outer Space, we'll delve into a curated selection of films that have achieved cult status for all the wrong reasons. So, buckle up for a rollercoaster ride of cinematic ineptitude as we explore these unforgettable classics.

Are you ready to revel in the cinematic absurdity? Then, my friends, let's continue reading and embark on this unforgettable journey through the best 'so bad they're good' movies ever made.

The Room is undoubtedly one of the best bad movies of all time, and here's why it has earned its cult status in the realm of pop culture aficionados. Tommy Wiseau, the enigmatic figure behind this cinematic masterpiece, leaves us questioning whether he's a mad genius or simply a rich eccentric who attempted to create a prestigious indie drama but missed the mark spectacularly.

The debate rages on about whether The Room is an honest failure or a performance-art long-con, adding to its mystique. Regardless of where you stand on that spectrum, one cannot deny that it's one of the most peculiar works ever unleashed upon the public. While those who claim Wiseau's bizarre narrative choices showcase his brilliance may be stretching it a bit, the film is a must-see, preferably in the company of a rowdy midnight screening audience.

Manos: The Hands of Fate

Manos: The Hands of Fate is a remarkable testament to the bizarre allure of bad cinema, and its legacy has transcended even the wildest expectations of its creators. Rescued from cinematic obscurity in the 1990s by the aficionados of trash cinema over at Mystery Science Theatre 3000, this satanic-panic horror flick was essentially born from a dare and initially screened only a handful of times in El Paso before vanishing into oblivion. Its miraculous resurrection on cable television, where it was mercilessly lampooned by a pair of snarky androids, breathed new life into this cinematic oddity.

Manos stands as a monument to the unintentionally hilarious, boasting a cornucopia of continuity errors, technical blunders, and narrative detours that boggle the mind. It's a film so mind-bendingly awful that one might even consider it a pre-cursor to weird cinema like Blood of a Poet or even David Lynch's Twin Peaks saga if there were any indication that its perplexing shortcomings were deliberate, but alas, they're not. Manos: The Hands of Fate is a testament to the enduring appeal of spectacular cinematic failure, and it's a must-see for aficionados of the bizarre and the inexplicable.

Birdemic: Shock and Terror

Birdemic: Shock and Terror is a true treasure in the realm of bad cinema, and here's why it's earned its place among the best of the worst. In the quest for the ultimate cinematic disaster, one cannot afford to overlook this masterpiece of ineptitude. With a paltry $10,000 budget, it shatters even the lowest expectations, proving that sometimes, less is truly not more. Crafted by the singular vision of filmmaker James Nguyen and unleashed upon the world in 2010, this 'romance/thriller' concoction transports us to a dystopian realm where wooden actors populate the Earth, and hilariously terrible CGI birds embark on a mission to annihilate humanity. As you marvel at the abysmal sound design and special effects that wouldn't pass muster in a high school project, you'll also find yourself trapped in a plot that unfolds at a glacial pace, making Birdemic an unforgettable experience for lovers of cinematic calamities. It's a masterpiece of badness that's as bewildering as it is strangely captivating.

Masters Of The Universe

Masters of the Universe is a prime example of a film that had all the elements for success but somehow went delightfully off the rails. With Dolph Lundgren embodying the iconic role of He-Man and the ever-enthusiastic Frank Langella as the diabolical Skeletor, the casting alone promised greatness. However, the creators decided to tinker with the established lore, sending the cast of interdimensional warrior gods to Earth to interact with Courtney Cox and her less-than-heroic boyfriend.

The result was a narrative that veered far from the source material and forced the film to navigate through interminable stretches of forced culture-clash comedy. Yet, it's precisely these deviations and missteps that elevate Masters of the Universe to the ranks of the best bad movies. Instead of the action-packed fantasy that fans craved, they got an unintentionally hilarious spectacle that has since become a cult classic.

Troll 2

Troll 2, where do we even begin? It's the kind of cinematic train wreck that you can't look away from, and that's precisely why it's earned its spot as one of the best bad movies of all time. First of all, let's address the elephant in the room: it's a sequel to a completely unrelated 1980s horror film about trolls, but there are no trolls to be found here. Instead, we're treated to goblins who inexplicably masquerade as trolls, even though the title suggests otherwise. These goblins have a truly bizarre modus operandi, turning unfortunate humans into shrubbery before devouring them. Why not just make them straightforward carnivorous man-eaters? Well, that's where it gets even stranger – it turns out the director's wife had a personal vendetta against vegetarians, and that's why we have this botanical horror show. With its laughable Spirit Halloween-level effects, dialogue that feels like it went through Google Translate a few times too many, and acting that wouldn't pass muster in a sub-community theatre production, Troll 2 cements its status as an absolute gem in the annals of no-budget horror cinema. It's a delightful concoction of nonsensical storytelling and unintentional hilarity that has earned its place in the pantheon of cult classics.

Plan 9 From Outer Space

Plan 9 From Outer Space, often dubbed the "Citizen Kane of bad movies," has withstood the test of time as a true gem in the world of cinematic disasters. While its effects are hilariously terrible even for the era of UFOs dangling from strings, and its technical mishaps are only magnified by Ed Wood's earnest screenplay, the film's enduring charm lies in its undeniable passion for the art of cinema. Over half a century has passed since its creation, and the world has witnessed far worse films made with much bigger budgets and for far less admirable motives.

Plan 9 resonates with anyone who's ever grabbed their parents' camcorder and embarked on a creative journey using whatever was at hand. Despite its glaring shortcomings, it also serves as a reminder of the potential within every aspiring filmmaker, urging them to pick up a camera and explore their own creative horizons. In the world of legacies, there are certainly far worse ones than being an inspiration to those who dare to dream and create, no matter the obstacles.

Cats

Cats is a mesmerizing trainwreck of a movie that somehow manages to capture the essence of a spectacularly bad film while attempting to adapt Andrew Lloyd Webber's inexplicably popular musical. From the very start, you could sense that turning humanoid felines slinking, singing, and dancing through the back alleys of London into a movie would be a colossal challenge. And whoo boy it's an absolute catastrophe, complete with unintentional terror thanks to the nightmarish CGI that turns even esteemed performers like Judi Dench and Taylor Swift into unsettling AI-generated meme creatures.

Director Tom Hooper deserves some credit for embracing the sheer weirdness of Webber's vision without any hint of ironic detachment. Who could resist the allure of watching a star-studded cast prancing and crooning in the heart of the uncanny valley? Cats is a straight up a cinematic catastrophe, but it's a must-see for those who revel in the mesmerizing spectacle of good intentions gone horribly awry.

Verotika

Verotika, the brainchild of Glenn Danzig, is a spectacularly bad film that somehow manages to be a delight. This horror anthology, based on Danzig's 'adult' comics from his own Verotik company, is a surreal journey into the depths of cinematic absurdity. It's as if the movie exists solely to indulge the director's peculiar fetishes: from women bathing in blood to those donning other women's faces and even bizarre six-armed man-spiders. It's a wild ride, to say the least.

The odd  accents all across the board, abysmal script, and Danzig's rudimentary approach to cinematography, primarily consisting of zooming in and fading to black, contribute to its unintentional hilarity. Verotika is best enjoyed in a theater with an audience who's ready to laugh. In the realm of bad movies, it's a diamond in the rough, offering a uniquely bizarre and entertaining viewing experience that defies description.

Samurai Cop

Samurai Cop is a quintessential gem in the realm of bad movies, encapsulating all the absurdity and charm that aficionados of cinematic trainwrecks crave. Hailing from the early '90s, it's a curious oddity that often feels like a budget version of Point Break, a true embodiment of American machismo filtered through the lens of Iranian émigré Amir Shervan.

This delirious '80s cop movie rip-off shamelessly strings together nearly every Hollywood action cliché known to mankind, paying little heed to continuity or basic logic. Our so-called 'hero' is more sleazy than the villains he pursues, boasting an inexplicable fluency in Japanese that somehow never makes its way into the dialogue. The mystery of his shaggy black mane, which toggles between real and wig status, adds an extra layer of bewildering charm. The brain-breaking dialogue, hallucinatory editing (derogatory), and gratuitously hideous love scenes all contribute to its mesmerizing terribleness.

But perhaps the crown jewel of this cinematic disaster is the fact that no one in the film seems to have a clue about what a samurai actually is.

No Holds Barred

No Holds Barred stands as a testament to the fact that no amount of money can salvage a film when it's marred by a plot that's just as over-the-top as its leading man, Hulk Hogan. In the early '80s, Hogan was the pro-wrestler everyone could name, though his foray into movies didn't quite catapult him to the same level of stardom as The Rock or John Cena.

Films like Suburban Commando and Santa With Muscles left much to be desired. However, No Holds Barred was Hogan's first major star vehicle, and it unapologetically embraced the live-cartoon energy of professional wrestling. Hogan essentially played himself, a wrestling champion coerced by a slimy TV executive into a no-holds-barred fight to the death against the hulking ex-con, Zeus, portrayed by Tiny Lister.

The result is a cinematic misfire that captures the larger-than-life essence of Hogan's wrestling persona, making it a guilty pleasure for fans of outrageous '80s action.

Miami Connection

Miami Connection is a true treasure among bad movies, an early '80s oddity that embodies the delightful chaos of amateur filmmaking. While there's no shortage of ninja flicks that we could include here, this one stands out for a simple reason: it introduces us to Dragon Sound, the taekwondo-based yacht rock sensation that you never knew you needed.

Comprised of five cohabiting adult men who inexplicably hand-feed each other grapes and talk about nothing about their respective cultural identities, this band takes center stage in a story where local cocaine dealers and their ninja cohorts inexplicably despise the soothing sounds of this strange group of karate men.

The film reaches its pinnacle with Dragon Sound's epic, super violent showdown against their adversaries, culminating in a message advocating for the abolition of said violence. It's unhinged. All of this unfolds against the backdrop of Orlando, by the way and not Miami.  Written, directed, and starring Y.K. Kim, a a Korean-born taekwondo martial artist without an eye for what makes things cinematic, Miami Connection proves that everyone can make a movie and the world is better for it.

The Pumaman

The Pumaman proudly stands as a prime example of the mesmerizing world of euro-kitsch superhero cinema, where logic takes a backseat to pure entertainment. Walter George Alton's portrayal of the titular Pumaman may go down in history as one of the most awkward attempts at flying ever captured on film.

In this Italian production, Alton plays a bewildered palaeontologist who reluctantly discovers that he's the descendant of an Aztec space god, destined to thwart the diabolical plans of Donald Pleasance's nefarious Dr. Kobras. Armed with an ancient golden puma mask and a cadre of mannequin heads, Kobras aims to mind-bully world leaders into submission. You know, that classic film trope.

The Pumaman is a delightful throwback to an era when superheroes were less about wise-cracking one-man armies and more about well-meaning milksops grappling with the absurdities of their newfound powers. Director Alberto De Martino's candid admission that the film was met with skepticism due to Italian productions struggling with special effects only adds to the bullet point list of reasons you need to see this movie.

Acapulco Gold

Acapulco Gold is a captivating example of a movie that, on paper, should have been a straightforward crime caper. The plot revolves around insurance salesman Ralph Hollio, who finds himself behind bars on heroin smuggling charges in Acapulco. When Captain Carl Solborg orchestrates a jailbreak to enlist Hollio's help in sailing a boat to Hawaii, the stage is set for a classic adventure.

However, what makes Acapulco Gold truly remarkable is its breathtaking descent into cinematic chaos. The film is such a colossal mess that one can hardly fathom how it managed to reach completion. Yet, it's precisely this chaos that transforms it into a hidden gem among bad movies. Notably, Acapulco Gold boasts one of the most daring helicopter stunts ever captured on film, adding an element of genuine danger to its unpredictable (read: incompetent, but fun icompetent) story.

Double Team

Double Team is a glorious cinematic disaster that's undeniably one of the best bad movies of all time, and it's not just because it pairs Jean-Claude Van Damme with the unlikeliest of action movie co-stars, Dennis Rodman. The film revels in its own absurdity, delivering a whirlwind of outrageous action sequences, improbable plot twists, and one-liners that defy all reason.

Van Damme plays an international counter-terrorism operative who teams up with the eccentric weapons specialist portrayed by Rodman to take down a terrorist. What unfolds is a frenetic blend of martial arts, espionage, and bizarre comedic moments that defy explanation. From a fight scene that takes place in a fully functioning theme park to a climax set in the COLOSSEUM OF ROME filled with landmines and a tiger, Double Team throws logic out the window and fully embraces its own lunacy. It's a movie that transcends the realm of traditional action films and ventures into a world where the only rule is to have as much fun as possible, making it a beloved gem among aficionados of gloriously bad cinema.

The Master of Disguise

Master of Disguise is a cringe-inducing masterpiece of bad cinema that showcases the inherent risks of talented performers venturing into ill-conceived projects. Dana Carvey, renowned for his impeccable impersonations and character acting, stumbles into a comedy quagmire in this 2002 film. While Carvey's abilities are unquestionable, the movie is marred by a woefully childish script and a barrage of awkward, often cringe-worthy jokes that hit the ground harder than watermelon tossed from the top of the Empire State Building.

Audiences couldn't escape fast enough from this cinematic misfire, yet there's an undeniable charm in how determinedly the film tries to elicit laughter, only to fail in the most spectacular fashion with each attempt. For those with a penchant for reveling in the glorious failures of cinema and an abundance of patience, Master of Disguise offers an opportunity to witness just how spectacularly wrong a well-intentioned project can go, making it an essential addition to the pantheon of unforgettable bad movies.

Fateful Findings

Fateful Findings is a shining gem in the realm of 'so bad it's good' cinema, and it stands as a testament to the unique genius (albeit unintentional) of filmmaker Neil Breen. Released in 2013, it's the magnum opus of Breen's oeuvre, a collection of lovably bad independent films that defy all conventions. In this sci-fi action thriller, Breen casts himself as a famous author turned expert hacker who seamlessly navigates a labyrinth of government secrets with an absurd sense of omniscience.

The film is a cacophony of incomprehensible plot twists, over-the-top acting, and sound design that veers into the realm of hilarity. What makes Fateful Findings truly remarkable is its unwavering commitment to taking itself deadly seriously, a trait that only enhances its ironic appeal. Viewers revel in its cryptic narrative, poor production values, overt political messages, stilted dialogue, and the sheer eccentricity of Breen's real-life persona, all of which contribute to the film's captivating ineptitude. It's a cinematic experience like no other, where the more earnestly it attempts to be profound, the more joyously entertaining it becomes.

Hard Ticket To Hawaii

Hard Ticket to Hawaii is a quintessential example of the best kind of bad movies, where over-the-top action and ludicrous plot twists collide in a glorious spectacle of cinematic absurdity. Directed by Andy Sidaris, who had previously earned an Emmy for his sports event coverage, the film showcases his unique talent for creating top-shelf low-budget entertainment.

In this wild ride, secret agents Donna and Taryn find themselves entangled in a drug baron's diamond-smuggling operation amidst the chaos of a cancer-ridden boa constrictor on the loose. Amidst love-making, hang-gliding, and the casual misogyny that characterizes the era, these fearless ladies take on the bizarre challenges thrown their way. From a snake smashing through a porcelain toilet bowl to missiles aimed at a reptilian foe, the film revels in its unabashed absurdity. Sidaris's formula, featuring Playmate-led 1980s machismo, remains consistent throughout his movies, making each installment a treasure trove of unintentional humor, cheesy dialogue, and outrageous violence.

The Giant Spider Invasion

The Giant Spider Invasion is a riotously cheesy masterpiece from the annals of 1970s B Movies, directed by the indomitable Bill Rebane. This cinematic gem is a true testament to the power of bad movies to entertain. The plot revolves around colossal spiders from another dimension crash-landing in a quaint Wisconsin town, thanks to the meteor-triggered interdimensional gateway (a scientific stretch, to say the least).

By the movie's end, the titular giant spider is hilariously revealed to be nothing more than a car adorned with a spider float glued onto it. In a 2012 interview, Rebane admitted his bewilderment at how the film became popular, noting that it initially struggled until it achieved cult classic status. Despite grievances over the film's pirated history and financial complications, Rebane took pride in the impact it had on the city of Merrill, Wisconsin. The Giant Spider Invasion remains a must-see for connoisseurs of gloriously bad cinema, a shining example of how even the silliest premises can create a lasting and endearing cult following.

Mac and Me

Mac and Me is a monument to the shameless era of crass commercialism in cinema, and it revels in its audacity. Essentially a bald-faced ripoff of E.T., takes product placement to absurd new heights, with the titular alien's acronym 'Mysterious Alien Creature' ultimately revealing its true purpose as a promotional tool for McDonald's. The producer even pitched it as a tie-in with the fast-food giant, with a portion of the profits going to the company's charity.

Released in 1988, this meandering family adventure barely recouped half of its budget and was lambasted by critics before quickly fading into obscurity. However, the internet's power to resurrect forgotten gems of bad cinema has given Mac and Me a second life. While this flick is undeniably held back by its derivative plot, awkward special effects, and hilariously unnatural product placements, it offers an unforgettable experience for all the best (or worst) reasons.

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians is a glorious testament to the whimsical absurdity of the B movie genre. This 1964 cinematic oddity defies all logic and reason as it boldly transports jolly old Santa Claus and a group of curious Martian kids to the red planet. The plot is as outlandish as it sounds: Martians, concerned that their children are devoid of joy and holiday spirit, embark on a mission to kidnap Santa to bring happiness to their dreary world.

From cardboard sets to questionable acting and a generous dose of campy charm, the film offers a jaw-dropping spectacle of sheer ludicrousness. While it may not conquer Martian hearts, it has certainly conquered the hearts of aficionados of bad movies, becoming a beloved cult classic that's celebrated for its endearing ineptitude. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians reminds us that sometimes the greatest cinematic treasures emerge from the unlikeliest of places, and that the spirit of the holiday season can even conquer the depths of Martian absurdity.

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