From time to time, I will be reviewing/analyzing/running my head about horror movies I call Glorious Shit–horror movies which run from deeply flawed to objectively bad, and yet still possess some unique attributes which elevate it from the lesser category of so-bad-it’s good. Here’s the difference: while so-bad-it’s-good movies are a lot of fun, it’s entertainment value is largely based on crowd appreciation. In other words, it’s not a movie you will repeatedly watch on your own, while a Glorious Shit movie not only contains some unintentional humor, it has enough positive aspects to hold up to repeated viewings…with or without other people.
For example, Baby Boy and good friend Mads and I watched The Wicker Man 2.0 together and laughed our collective asses off. But while it is unquestionably a Crap Classic©, I would never watch it on my own. In the end, it’s just too shit to enjoy by myself. On the other hand, Evilspeak–which is indisputably a bad movie–I’ve watched so often that I finally bought a secondhand copy. Why? Because Clint Howard’s very believable performance playing a ridiculously wide-eyed, bullied, self-perpetuating victim; Lenny Montana, aka Luca Brasi and actual retired mafia figure, playing waaay the fuck against type in a small role as the only character who doesn’t want to kick sand into Clint Howard’s face…and then there is that ridiculous but kind of magnificent ending–one of the most righteous, surreal, silly, but deeply satisfying paybacks in B-horror history. Don’t watch if you’re expecting Kill List, but if you’re having one of those days in which thinking actually hurts, check it out–at this writing it is streaming on YouTube. And then come back when I both shred and extol its glorious shittiness.
Speaking of the semi-silly-but-still-spectacular ending of Evilspeak, that brings up another important factor in classifying a good-bad horror movie as Glorious Shit: it has to have at least a few genuinely creepy, or at least suspenseful moments. In fact, that is usually the greatest distinction for determining whether a bad movie is worthy of the Glorious Shit classification–if there aren’t a few instances of at least mild Good-Scares, I won’t even consider it.
Admittedly, Glorious Shit horror only constitutes a fraction of my indie horror collection (so far)–the point of this blog, after all, is to recommend quality lesser known horror, but goddamnit, sometimes even the greatest gourmand needs to eat a bag of Fritos. I have a few already lined up: The Funhouse, The Eyes of Laura Mars, Evilspeak, The Sentinel, Frankenstein’s Army, and, to kick things off, Let’s Scare Jessica to Death, which I will hopefully have ready by tomorrow.