So bad it’s kind of good

Back in the good old, schlockyold 1970s, a grindhouse was the indoor, inner-city equivalent of a run-down drive-in.

Cheapy exploitation flicks with some combination of scantily clad babes-in-peril, souped-up vehicles, hardcore violence and sadistic evil doers in human or supernatural form played where whole scratchy reels of the double feature might be missing, acting and sound effects were overwrought to the point of high camp, scripts might as well have been used as toilet paper, and coming attraction trailers promised even worse (and thus better) guilty pleasures in future.