There are bad movies, there are really bad movies, and then there are movies so spectacularly awful that they somehow transcend the traditional boundaries of filmmaking and become something genuinely entertaining. The Amazing Bulk is one of those movies. In fact, it might be one of the finest examples of cinematic incompetence ever assembled into something resembling a feature film.
And I mean that with a surprising amount of affection.
On a conventional scale of filmmaking, The Amazing Bulk probably deserves a 1.5 out of 10. The acting is terrible, the visual effects are astonishingly primitive, the story is ridiculous, and the production values make the average high school video project look like a Hollywood blockbuster. But on the entirely different scale of movies that are so bad they’re good, this thing is a legitimate masterpiece. A perfect 10 out of 10.
Somewhere between those two extremes lies the only reasonable rating for a movie that manages to be simultaneously dreadful and absolutely hilarious.
The story behind The Amazing Bulk is almost as entertaining as the movie itself. Directed by Lewis Schoenbrun and produced for a reported budget of approximately $14,000, the film was shot in 2010 and eventually released on DVD in 2012. It was conceived as a low-budget superhero parody, arriving during an era when Hollywood was increasingly obsessed with comic-book adaptations. The success of Marvel’s The Incredible Hulk provided an obvious target, and the filmmakers apparently decided that the best way to compete with a multimillion-dollar superhero spectacle was to create their own purple monster using inexpensive computer graphics and an extraordinary amount of green screen.
It’s an approach that can only be described as ambitious. Perhaps recklessly so.
The plot follows Hank Howard (Jordan Lawson), a scientist developing an experimental serum that transforms him into a gigantic purple creature whenever his emotions get the better of him. There’s a romantic subplot involving Hannah (Shevaun Kastl), a military general who wants to exploit the serum, and a villain named Dr. Werner von Kantlove (Randal Malone), whose ambitions eventually involve destroying the moon. Yes, the moon.
If that sounds suspiciously familiar, it’s because the movie makes absolutely no effort to disguise its inspiration. Hank is essentially Bruce Banner, the Bulk is the Hulk, and the entire production is an exercise in taking recognizable superhero conventions and recreating them with whatever resources happen to be available.
And those resources were apparently rather limited.
The film was shot over approximately five days, with its actors performing almost entirely against green screens. Virtually every background, environment, and major action sequence was created digitally, often using inexpensive stock imagery and computer-generated assets. The result is a visual experience unlike almost anything you’re likely to encounter in conventional filmmaking.
Characters stand in front of backgrounds that look like they were borrowed from an early computer game. Perspective is frequently wrong, lighting rarely matches, and the digital environments have almost no relationship to the actors inhabiting them. The purple Bulk himself looks like a character from a particularly unfortunate video game demonstration, lumbering through a world that seems to have been assembled from an assortment of unrelated clip-art collections.
It’s terrible.
It’s also absolutely mesmerizing.
The action sequences are where The Amazing Bulk truly earns its place in the pantheon of cinematic disasters. The movie eventually abandons almost any pretense of conventional filmmaking and launches into an extended parade of computer-generated chaos. Animals, vehicles, explosions, and assorted digital objects appear with such reckless abandon that it becomes difficult to understand what you’re watching.
At one point, the experience feels less like a superhero movie and more like someone accidentally opened every animation file on their computer simultaneously.
And somehow, it just keeps going.
The acting doesn’t help matters, although it’s difficult to blame the performers entirely. Acting convincingly against a green screen is challenging under the best circumstances, particularly when the surrounding environment will be created later. Here, the performances are frequently stiff, the dialogue is awkward, and the emotional reactions rarely seem appropriate to the absurd events unfolding around the characters.
But again, that’s part of the entertainment.
What makes The Amazing Bulk particularly fascinating is that it wasn’t simply forgotten after its original release. Following its initial DVD run, the movie was picked up by Wild Eye Releasing and reintroduced to audiences in 2015. Internet reviewers, YouTube personalities, and fans of spectacularly bad cinema gradually discovered its extraordinary collection of filmmaking miscalculations.
The movie developed a cult following, becoming something of an underground favorite among audiences who appreciate films like The Room, Birdemic, and other productions whose shortcomings have become their greatest attractions.
There’s even something endearing about Schoenbrun’s response to the criticism. Rather than simply dismissing audiences who mocked his movie, he has defended the concept of combining live-action performers with cartoon-like environments while acknowledging the attention generated by online reviewers. His stated ambition was to create something resembling a living comic book, and while the execution leaves plenty to be desired, it’s difficult to deny that the finished product is unlike most other superhero movies.
That doesn’t necessarily make it good, but it does make it memorable.
And that’s an important distinction.
I’ve always believed that a movie doesn’t have to be technically accomplished to be entertaining. Some of my favorite cinematic experiences have involved productions with terrible effects, questionable acting, and stories that barely make sense. There’s something wonderfully enjoyable about watching filmmakers attempt something far beyond their resources, particularly when the resulting failures become unintentionally hilarious.
The Amazing Bulk takes that concept to an entirely different level.
There’s almost nothing here that works according to conventional filmmaking standards. The editing is awkward, the effects are laughable, the pacing is erratic, and the story frequently feels like an afterthought. Even the soundtrack, which makes extensive use of familiar classical music, contributes to the wonderfully bizarre atmosphere.
Yet I found myself thoroughly entertained by the sheer audacity of it all.
Every time I thought the movie couldn’t possibly become more ridiculous, it found another way to surprise me. Every questionable visual effect seemed determined to outdo the previous one. And by the time the final credits arrived, I wasn’t particularly concerned about the plot, the characters, or whether any of it made sense.
I was too busy marveling at what I had just witnessed.
Of course, this kind of entertainment isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for a competent superhero movie, stay far away. If you have little patience for amateurish filmmaking, this could be an excruciating 76 minutes. And if you expect even the most basic standards of visual continuity, you’re going to have a very difficult time.
But if you appreciate the peculiar magic of movies that are so bad they become good, The Amazing Bulk is essential viewing.
On a traditional filmmaking scale, I’m giving it a 1.5 out of 10, and that might be generous. But on the much more entertaining scale of cinematic disasters, it’s a perfect 10.
So how do you reconcile those two scores?
I’m settling on a 6 out of 10, a rating that probably makes absolutely no sense until you’ve actually watched the movie. It’s a terrible film that delivers a surprisingly wonderful entertainment experience, and sometimes that’s enough.
The Amazing Bulk may be one of the worst superhero movies ever made, but it’s also one of the most entertaining examples of bad filmmaking I’ve encountered.
And that, in its own wonderfully ridiculous way, makes it pretty amazing.
