Bad Movie Bible: Rob Hill

Have you ever laughed at a movie that wasn't supposed to be funny? Perhaps Vin Diesel was just a little too earnest or maybe, God forbid, he tried to emote. If so, or if you can't watch Roadhouse or Grease without the occasional ironic chuckle, then you may be part of a growing movement, you may enjoy bad movies. Not wretched, boring dross, but movies that nobody has told to stop being so silly.

Since the naff sci-fi of the 50s and 60s Hollywood has been flooded with an ocean of hilariously fun, surprisingly charming, good bad movies. Soon after cinema shook off its moral arbiters in the early 70s, a wave of inept filmmakers washed up on the shores of the VHS boom and redefined what we think of as corny, excessive and incompetent. Over the last 50 years an extraordinary number of terrible movies have been made, with some commanding legions of fans despite, or often because, of their deficiencies. This love for movies that are so bad they're good is a phenomenon that has been crying out for someone to impose some order on it and attempt to justify its existence. I'm lucky enough to be that someone, and The Bad Movie Bible is the result of a year spent watching one thousand of the worst movies ever made. I think 'lucky' is the word. Most are unbearable, but a tiny minority are pure magic. It's been emotional. As a lifelong fan of these things I thought I knew what to expect, but it seems a diet consisting entirely of debacles like Superman IV, Miami Connection and Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama, takes its toll on even the best prepared of film critics. That I came out of it thinking Tommy Wiseau's infamous chamber piece (or is it pot?) The Room might not be that bad is perhaps the most worrying thing of all. Hopefully the upcoming James Franco comedy about its making will remind me why it's known as the Citizen Kane of bad movies.

But if not, so be it. It's been a great journey, and now the book is out there garnering feedback it's hugely rewarding to know that people are getting pleasure from my pain. And no matter how tough it was, I can take solace in the thought that I managed to avoid watching a single Adam Sandler movie. Small mercies, and all that.

 

 

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