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If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Charles Bronson had to hunt a werewolf and decided to play detective instead of hanging from Torino’s rooftops, “12 to Midnight” is here to answer that question with all the subtlety of a silver bullet to the jaw.

Robert Bronzi leans so hard into his Charles Bronson impersonation you half expect him to growl “Don’t pull that stunt on me, pal” at every suspect. His trademark scowl is in full force, but the script seems to recognize that Bronzi can’t quite nail the dialogue—so he just stands there, arms crossed, delivering each line in unintelligible monosyllables until everyone else on screen tries and fails to fill in the blanks. It’s stoicism by requirement, and Bronzi owns it.

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If you’ve ever wondered what happens when you strap an entire B‑movie budget to a shaky cam and christen it with Ice‑T’s name—then promptly hand the lead role to someone who isn’t him—congratulations: you’ve discovered 2001’s airborne atrocity Air Rage (or, as I like to call it, “Fly‑Hard But Wrong”). It’s exactly the kind of gleefully clueless cheese you’d expect from a Fred Olen Ray slash Jim Wynorski double feature, and that’s precisely why you’ll fall in love with its every misguided moment.

From the opening explosions in a different movie—where our villain dreams of explosions in HIS movie—to the big reveal that Ice‑T only pops up about 45 minutes into the movie (playing a black ops infiltrator with the emotional range of a traffic cone), the movie instantly subverts expectations. You think you’re signing up for a hardcore, Ice‑T‑led thriller? Nope. Our real hero is...someone else (no spoilers).

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A film that manages to accomplish nothing, makes us dislike the mains, but still makes us like the movie....

"Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man" is one wild, misguided ride that desperately tries—and fails—to turn its two lead dirtballs into lovable scoundrels. Instead of evolving into charming antiheroes, they remain gloriously repulsive, wallowing in a sea of their own filth, which only adds to the film’s bizarre, unintentional humor.

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We really were losing a war to vending machines?

Electric State might just be one of the most staggering wastes of resources and talent to hit the screen in years. Armed with a ludicrous budget and an all-star cast, this movie squanders every ounce of its potential in a messy, juvenile attempt at sci-fi storytelling that only children—or perhaps the most forgiving of viewers—could enjoy.

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Ah, Turbulence 3: Heavy Metal. A film so magnificently, obliviously ridiculous that it could only exist in the pre-9/11 era, where the greatest threat to air travel wasn’t terrorism, but satanic heavy metal concerts broadcast live from a 747. Yes, that’s the plot. And no, it does not get any smarter from there.

Let’s start with the hero we never asked for: Slade Craven (yes, that’s his real name), a Marilyn Manson knockoff who looks like Hot Topic threw up on a scarecrow. This man struts onto the plane in full goth-rock regalia, sneering at everyone like he just walked out of a badly lit music video, but give him 30 minutes and he transforms from a moody poser into an airborne action hero, karate-kicking terrorists and saving the day with all the grace of a drunk dad at a Slipknot concert. Watching him go from “edgy Rockstar” to “Die Hard protagonist” is like watching Ozzy Osbourne suddenly pilot a space shuttle. It makes no sense, and that’s why it’s beautiful.

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Fact: Real ninjas throughout history used jazz hands to assassinate their targets.

"Dancing Ninja" might not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you're into a movie that revels in its own absurdity, you'll find a lot to love here. The film's corny jokes hit just the right note, and its satire—though subtle at times—adds a clever twist that keeps you on your toes. Every member of the cast and crew clearly put a tremendous amount of effort into the project, infusing each scene with passion and a genuine commitment to the film’s offbeat vision.

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A Murder of Time - The old "write a best-selling novel and give it to your enemy for revenge" caper

"A Murder of Crows" is a nonsensical thriller that manages to take an interesting premise and turn it into a complete mess. The plot centers around a "corrupt" lawyer named Lawson, played by Cuba Gooding Jr., who, after being framed for a murder he didn't commit, goes down a rabbit hole of trying to find out who did it. Rather than doing the smart thing—turning the evidence over to the authorities—he decides to get involved in a ridiculous scheme to clear his name. What follows is a convoluted, poorly paced disaster that defies logic at every turn.

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Ever wondered what would happen if a group therapy session for people afraid of flying turned into a hostage situation? Neither did I, but Turbulence 2: Fear of Flying takes off with that premise and crashes it gloriously into the realm of “so bad it’s amazing.”

The Plot (LOL):

The movie starts with a group of nervous fliers boarding a fancy plane to conquer their aerophobia. But mid-flight, surprise! Hijackers reveal their master plan: not only to take over the plane but also unleash a deadly chemical weapon for… reasons? A ragtag group of passengers—including a guy who conquered his fear of flying just in time—must outwit the hijackers, survive turbulence (the metaphorical kind too), and prevent the worst-case scenario.

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Grumpy Old Men but they can fart fire!

In theory, Supervized could have been a quirky, heartfelt exploration of aging superheroes grappling with retirement, purpose, and the loss of their glory days. In practice, it’s a tedious, joyless slog that squanders its promising premise on cheap gags, uninspired storytelling, and a finale so absurd it feels like the filmmakers gave up trying to make sense of their own plot.

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Give that Joe guy a raise! Everything else though....

Fanatic, released in 1982 and later distributed by Troma under the title The Last Horror Film, is an ambitious yet confused attempt at blending psychological thriller, horror, satire, and social commentary. Directed by David Winters, the film follows Vinny Durand (Joe Spinell), a socially awkward taxi driver in New York who dreams of becoming a Hollywood filmmaker. Vinny's obsession with horror star Jana Bates (Caroline Munro) takes a dark turn when he follows her to the Cannes Film Festival, believing he can convince her to star in his debut film. Soon, people connected to Jana begin to disappear, leaving the audience to wonder if Vinny’s fantasies have turned murderous.

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"Fair Game" is the cinematic equivalent of a rollercoaster ride designed by someone who forgot to include safety measures, plot coherence, or the laws of physics—and somehow, it’s a blast to watch. Starring William Baldwin as Miami cop Max Kirkpatrick and Cindy Crawford as Kate McQuean, a sexy lawyer who becomes the inexplicable target of a rogue KGB faction, this movie is a glorious 90 minutes of car chases, explosions, and dialogue so wooden it could be used to build a log cabin.

The Plot (If You Can Call It That)

Kate McQuean, a lawyer who apparently moonlights as a fashion model (judging by her perpetual runway-ready appearance), files a lawsuit involving a derelict freighter owned by the bad guys. Naturally, this lawsuit sets off a chain reaction where the Russian mafia—consisting of the most cartoonishly evil ex-KGB agents imaginable—decides she must die at all costs. Why? Because, apparently, the freighter is tied to their secret cyber-criminal empire.

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Don't have enough plot to get to 3 hours? Just restate the plot of the movie 3 times and give your movie an hour of free time.

"Happy New Year" has all the makings of an enjoyable Bollywood blockbuster—a promising story, decent acting, likable characters, and a handful of genuinely fun sequences. On paper, this sounds like a surefire recipe for entertainment. However, the film quickly falls prey to the worst habits of Bollywood: unnecessary bloat, juvenile execution, and a lifeless narrative that seems more concerned with padding out its 3-hour runtime than telling a compelling story.

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It's really no wonder the Nazis lost the war. They are just too stupid. Antichristmas!

If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a department store Santa got tangled up in a Nazi plot involving an evil elf, virgin sacrifice, and the Fourth Reich, then boy, do I have the movie for you. Elves (1989) isn’t just a bad movie—it’s a certifiable fever dream of absurdity, incompetence, and the kind of misguided ambition that makes it impossible to look away. Strap in, folks, because this isn’t your average Christmas horror flick; it’s a trainwreck wrapped in tinsel and doused in eggnog-flavored LSD.

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It's definitely not "garbage day" at Kim's place. Get a broom, woman!

Oh, Silent Night, Deadly Night 4: Initiation. Where do I even begin with this glorious, messy fever dream of a movie? This isn't just bad—it's transcendentally bad. The kind of bad that rockets past mere mediocrity into the stratosphere of so-bizarre-you-can’t-look-away. It’s like a snowglobe filled with pure nonsense, shaken up, and dumped all over the screen.

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So the kaiju is a half-turkey/half-shopper hybrid. That helps.... a little.

Black Friday had the potential to be a fun and memorable addition to the horror-comedy genre. The premise of retail workers battling zombified Black Friday shoppers is clever, relatable, and ripe for satirical commentary on consumer culture. Unfortunately, the execution leaves much to be desired, resulting in a film that struggles to rise above mediocrity.

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What is the point of any of this??? What does life even mean anymore?!?!

Watching Alone in the Dark is like stepping into a surreal nightmare where logic, talent, and coherence take a permanent vacation. Directed by Uwe Boll, the film somehow manages to turn a moderately creepy video game series into a cinematic trainwreck so inexplicably bad it’s almost mesmerizing.

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What happens when a B-list horror film tackles small town romance, anthropology, and…vampire bureacracy?

This movie takes us to a vampire-infested Salem's Lot, where the acting is about as wooden as the stakes they should be driving into these vamps’ chests. The lead actors deliver their lines with the enthusiasm of someone half-listening to a bad knock-knock joke, and I swear the child actor spent more time looking at the camera than playing a convincing kid. But it doesn’t matter, because that’s part of the charm.

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Maybe the "safety bar" is the problem with your death machine.

If you're looking for a horror movie that makes you laugh, wince, and question your own sanity, The Mangler is an absolute gem. Based on Stephen King's short story, this 1995 film takes a wild swing at horror and lands somewhere deep in the realm of “so bad it’s good.”

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Gee, I don't know. Who could it be...? Could it be....SATAN????

Look, if you're going to watch Split Second, leave logic at the door, forget everything you know about biology, physics, or coherent storytelling, and just hold on for one wild, wonderfully ludicrous ride. This movie is a masterclass in "so bad it's good" cinema, a staggering tribute to neon-lit nonsense where none of it makes sense, but you'll be too busy laughing, cringing, and cheering to care.

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Well, you could always just lock the door that contains aliens hell-bent on destroying lives, MacCready.

Hobgoblins (1988) is the kind of classic cinematic disaster that bad movie connoisseurs dream of. It’s a true gem in the "so-bad-it's-good" genre, serving up every ridiculous trope you could hope for with a straight face. The budget is, to put it kindly, non-existent. You can almost hear the coins jingling in the director's pocket as they make every possible corner-cut. The "hobgoblins" themselves—clearly puppets—are so laughably bad that you can’t help but wonder if they were purchased at a yard sale. They wobble, flop, and seem to be more interested in starring in a middle school production than in wreaking havoc.