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Texas Chain Saw Massacre

Bad films we can't stop watching

The best of the worst, from Mariah Carey’s ”Glitter” to ”Mommie Dearest”

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Glitter (2001)
This cinematic disaster, which stars pop diva Mariah Carey as a (surprise!) young singer, fits the dictionary definition of an addictively atrocious movie. From its clichéd script (”It’s the ’80s — everyone just wants to dance”) and Carey’s wooden line delivery to her oft-shirtless, tragedy-bound producer boyfriend named Dice and her nonsensically old pet cat, the A Star Is Born wannabe is proof that all that glitters is, if not gold, a lot of campy fun. —Rachel Orvino

Jawbreaker (1999)
On the high school movie spectrum, this film — starring Julie Benz, Rebecca Gayheart, and Rose McGowan as a trio who kill their best friend — stands out like a bad prom dress. It wants to be Heathers but trades the bite for silly self-awareness, dreadful one-liners, and an unbelievable plot. These elements add up to a rather heinous film, but they also make Jawbreaker an irresistible treat. —Tanner Stransky

Escape From L.A. (1996)
Yes, this follow-up to Escape From New York is pretty stupid. But no smart action film has ever included a scene as endearingly goofy as L.A.’s climactic basketball challenge, in which antihero Snake Plissken (a permanently snarling Kurt Russell) proves his badassness by sinking a half-court shot. —Darren Franich

Waterworld (1995)
Kevin Costner’s glacially paced postapocalyptic tale (directed by Kevin Reynolds) hides a handful of sunken treasures, including a typically deranged performance from the late Dennis Hopper (he’s like Blue Velvet‘s Frank Booth on a Jet Ski) and some stunning cinematography. Too long and overwhelmingly gorgeous? It’s like the wettest film Terrence Malick never made! —Kyle Anderson

Mommie Dearest (1981)
It’s not just awful, it’s insane. And completely mesmerizing because of Faye Dunaway’s unhinged, balls-out, truly singular performance as Joan Crawford. This was supposed to be an adaptation of Christina Crawford’s sad and devastating tell-all about her mom, but it turns out to be a twisted, operatic tribute to the self-invented, raging diva who for some reason just hates wire hangers. —Jess Cagle

Masters of the Universe (1987)
The perpetually oiled Dolph Lundgren often sports little more than a leather Speedo and a cape as the live-action He-Man. Frank Langella devours the scenery as his nemesis Skeletor. The homoerotic subtext between them is basically text. Yet somehow a pre-Friends Courteney Cox, portraying an innocent earthling, doesn’t completely embarrass herself. How could you not watch? —Adam B. Vary