Tybout: We should embrace the so-bad-they’re-good films

By far, the worst movie I’ve seen this year is “Knowing.” It has recycled characters,… By far, the worst movie I’ve seen this year is “Knowing.” It has recycled characters, recycled dialogue and recycled plot points. In other words, it was as clichéas all the other mediocre films that came out this year. But I wasn’t disappointed that it was a bad movie. I was disappointed that it wasn’t enjoyably bad.

I, like many of my peers, am nostalgic for a time when bad movies were good — when total camp often surpassed quality in entertainment value. I’m talking about “Plan 9 from Outer Space” (1959). I’m talking about “The Brain That Wouldn’t Die” (1962). This was a time when movies were uniquely bad — a cutting-edge form of mediocrity. Rather than cliché dialogue, they had lines so strikingly sour they kept viewers at the edge of their seats.

All is not lost, however — there’s still an outlet for the nostalgic masses who long for the cheerfully terrible. It’s called The Andy Warhol Museum.

Running now through January 31, the Warhol will screen a number of classics and clunkers in conjunction with its exhibit of both well-known and obscure films, “SuperTrash.” This means movies that you’ve never known you wanted to see (“Silent Night, Deadly Night,” “Cannibal Apocalypse”) will be just a short PAT bus ride away.

There’s something about bombs like these that are truly timeless.To bask in the glory of such camp, some friends and I went to see a “SuperTrash” double feature: “Massacre at Central High” (1976) and “Red Dawn” (1984). The first movie alone was well worth the 10 dollars.

For those of you not familiar with “Massacre,” here’s a brief plot summary: A straight-edged young man (David) transfers to a fancy high school, where a vicious and well-groomed cadre of bullies terrorizes the students. Because David knows one of the bullies (Mark), he’s allowed into their circle of evil. But David eventually rebels against the immorality of bullying … by killing the bullies, one by one.

It’s David’s methods of dispatching the bullies that are truly wonderful. Cutting the cords to their hang gliders (apparently bullies fly hang gliders) and emptying the pool right before a bully dives in are two of David’s innovative methods of destruction.

The lines, as well, are uniquely awful. When a nerd discovers the latter bully lying facedown in the emptied pool, he exclaims, “To think that just yesterday he was so full of life!” It’s enough to make any audience member contemplate the fleeting nature of existence.

But the movie doesn’t stop at sour dialogue. What really drives this into the realm of memorable camp is its attempt to make “Massacre” into a Marxist parable. When David manages to dispatch all the old bullies, the nerds become the new bullies. This means David has to kill them as well, with a liberal use of explosives.

To shoot for mediocrity and achieve it is a deplorable standard in Hollywood. To shoot for an impossible ideal and fail miserably is beautiful. That’s the difference between “Knowing” and “Massacre” — ambition. While “Knowing” doesn’t pretend to be anything other than a cheeseball disaster movie, “Massacre” is like a disgraced politician still trying to maintain his dignity. The film is earnest in its attempt to make an original, exciting, thought-provoking film, and its absolute failure to do any of those things is what keeps the audience entertained.

The Andy Warhol Museum should be applauded for its celebration of the awful. The staff, unlike Hollywood, knows that failure is beautiful.