Because It's Bad, It's Bad, Shamone: Harold P. Warren's Manos The Hands of Fate (1966)

My favourite films? Well, it might depend on the day, but as of now I'm sticking with All About Eve, The Little Mermaid, Moulin Rouge!, Gone with the Wind, and The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. I've seen each of them five times or more (about 30 times, in the case of the Disney masterpiece). I think they're great: beautifully written, beautifully shot, and if they're not pushing the boat out on the possibilities of film (I'm looking at you, Eve), they're featuring some of the best performances of the era. I love, love, love these films.

But you don't have to be an all-time favourite to thrill me. Something like The Player or The Iron Giant are around No. 150 on my ranked list, and I love them too. (And yes, I have a ranked list of all the movies I've seen). As luck would have it, I enjoyed, to varying extents, about half the movies I've seen. The remaining half may have had their moments, but are largely disappointing to me, or didn't really speak to me. Men in Black was a big hit, but it's just sort of "meh" on my meter, clocking in at around No. 1,180. The mostly-beloved Jumanji (the original) I actively disliked, it's No. 1,735.

But here's the thing ... as I near the dregs of my list, these terrible movies start falling into two categories. Category A has movies I didn't like because they had terrible scripts, or they were just not for me, or too gruesome (I'm a wuss, I won't watch excessively violent or sadistic films), or ultimately they bored me. Category B has movies that are objectively horrible, badly-made, full of what-were-they-thinking moments, and yet ... I kind of enjoyed them, but in an ironic, distancing way, where I can acknowledge the badness and yet still get a kick out of it. Fun Bad. I would never recommend River's Edge to anyone (ugh, what a slog, why would anyone want to make that film?), which sits about 6th from the bottom for me, nor would I watch it again, but I might very well recommend something like Manos the Hands of Fate (in 2nd to last place), and have done so.

The book Bad Movies We Love by Edward Margulies and Stephen Rebello first introduced me to this phenomenon: films we cherish despite dreadful acting, failed production values, and incoherent plot, but because of the unintended humor inherent in the worst of such failures. Mystery Science Theater 3000 ran for 10 seasons (and then returned) based on the premise that watching and mocking such films could bring great pleasure.

I repeat: not all bad movies can be enjoyed through this lens. But the ones that can, I will enjoy a thousand times more than a merely mediocre film that fails to engage me.

Manos: the Hands of Fate (roughly translated to Hands: the Hands of Fate) should not feel personally attacked by me, since it's generally agreed to be up there in the top 10 of worst films of all time. It began life when an insurance-and-fertilizer salesman bet a screenwriter he could make a movie, easy, and so set out to do so. It is a terrible but not unwatchable film, and its fan-base is so fervent it has recently spawned a prequel and sequel.

It was Mystery Science Theatre 3000 that brought this film to public attention: it had played a few times in El Paso, where the cast and crew lived, and then disappeared. On January 30, 1993, they tore it to shreds.

It begins with driving, endless scenes of driving. So much driving. It's funny to me how fond of driving bad filmmakers are: seems like it took until the 1970s before they realised you could just cut to people arriving, and the audience wouldn't be too surprised. The family in the film is lost, but that can be conveyed with a simple:

"Margaret, I'm afraid we're lost."

— the entire plot of the first ten minutes of Manos.

Meanwhile, another couple is canoodling in their car. They do not feature in the plot. Their canoodling is not particularly sexy. Perhaps Mr. Warren's bet included the stipulation that the film be at least an hour and 9 minutes, hence the extended driving and the unnecessary canoodling.

You can see the film for yourself, I don't want to spoil all its joys, but if you suffer through the driving you should know that the film gets far worse, quickly, which is a good thing. You can look forward to inspired acting choices from the fellow playing Torgo, the satyr servant (which is never revealed, but explains the awkward legs), amazing community theatre costumes (no, that's not fair, I run a community theatre and our costumes rock), and inexplicable plot contrivances and even more inexplicable character reactions. "But nobody would ever do or think or say that!" will whoosh through your head multiple times during this film.

Among the many awkward choices during production: they couldn't film in sound, so the same handful of people overdubbed all the dialogue for all the characters. They rented a camera which could only hold 32 seconds of footage, leading to very strange cuts. One character is, apparently, massaged to death (perhaps they were supposed to be pummelling him?). And keep your eye on the sky: apparently day and night don't mean the same things to the characters as they do for us.

If bad, bad, very very bad films are your jam, here are some others that rank high on the "surprisingly fun if you watch with ironic distance" list:

• The Room (2003) - so bad that Hollywood made a film about the making of it (The Disaster Artist).

• Glen or Glenda (1953) and Plan 9 From Outer Space (1957) - so bad that Hollywood made a film about the making of them (Ed Wood)

• Cats (2019) - offputting CGI, leaden dance sequences, riddled with illogical choices

• The Apple (1980) - bat-shit-crazy dance sequences, nonsensical plot, and music so bad you shudder with dread when a new song begins