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During the depths of the coronavirus pandemic, my friends and I adapted our longstanding movie-night tradition by moving it online. Instead of piling onto a couch together, ringed with snacks and drinks, we’d watch the same movie separately but simultaneously on video conference. And we kept our two simple rules for choosing a movie: something fun; nothing boring.
The new format fostered the same playful repartee we’d always had, but not being in the same room changed our conversation. Sure, we still groaned, laughed, screamed and threw metaphorical popcorn at the screen, but our banter deepened.
One night, while watching the Patrick Swayze cult classic “Road House,” it dipped into more philosophical territory. Why do these good-bad movies — the bonkers, the batty, the bananas — bond and thrill us? What does it really mean to be entertained?
My editor at The New York Times, where I write about pop culture, likes to say I think “highbrow about lowbrow.” I’m drawn to projects and people with imperfect trajectories and legacies, those that don’t adhere to the standard rubric of failure or success.
The Good-Bad series, my exploration of movies that are irresistible in spite of themselves, is perhaps the pinnacle of this tendency. I treat movies such as “Grease 2,”“Batman & Robin,” “Practical Magic” or “Volcano” as perfect vehicles for contemplating the nature of entertainment.
Great movies — the critically acclaimed, the emotionally and intellectually challenging and insightful — are often ones we experience once, remember always, but don’t necessarily return to.
Good-bad movies are not that. They are the ones we return to again and again, even if they have been critically panned. They indulge our nostalgia and somehow never bore us. Sometimes they are bona fide blockbusters like “Armageddon”; others, like “Reefer Madness,” were never even intended for the big screen. But they all keep our attention and amuse us, activating a puckish little pleasure sensor in our minds and offering a temporary escape from the anxiety and doldrums of daily life.
Once a month for this series, I dig into a film with elements that might traditionally be considered “bad” but instead become the end product’s saving grace. In these movies, corny special effects, cringey puns or overacting loop back around to virtues through sheer audacity, compensating for, say, a meandering plot or clunky casting.
Our next installment, on “Cliffhanger,” starring Sylvester Stallone, was published today.
In a note at the top of each article, my editor, David Malitz, and I define these movies as “not necessarily great cinema but great fun.” They are highly watchable even though, or maybe because, they are memorably ridiculous. And they always veer into absurd territory.
Each installment is divided into three sections: “What makes it good” — the film’s widely agreed-upon redeeming qualities; “What makes it bad” — its irredeemable qualities; and, most importantly, “What makes it good-bad” — the ludicrous, over-the-top and memorable qualities that work against all odds. In the end, these films can’t be too bad or too good: they must be both. And ultimately, because they are infectious and often beloved, the scale must tip, even just slightly, toward good.
You might disagree with me, and that’s wonderful, because the magic of the series lies in precisely that thorny enigma: the line between good or bad is highly individual and endlessly debatable.
Nowhere is this dynamic more clear than in the robust comments the series generates: A movie that prompted one person to walk out of the theater is inevitably someone else’s favorite. In between is every degree of opinion.
I didn’t know heading into this project how it might resonate with readers. But it’s become a water cooler for people to share personal anecdotes and to litigate the good and bad, the great and awful. The comments section, which sometimes takes on a life of its own, showcases where we overlap, how differently we define entertainment and how passionate we are about our perspectives.
While I can respond to only a handful of those who chime in, I read and appreciate every post. And I hope to see you in the mix there soon.