Box Office Bombs From The '90s That Are Actually Worth Watching

Movies, like all art, shouldn't be judged solely by their financial worth. After all, not all great art is appreciated in its time. With today's audiences paying close attention to weekend box office returns and rankings, it can be hard for even the most inventive movies to overcome the reputation of a big loss at the box office.

Box office bombs are declared quickly, and post-mortem editorials on what went wrong are sometimes penned before their opening weekend has even concluded. Sadly, money talks, but some art is in it for the long haul, so that doesn't mean you should always listen.

When you're watching a movie decades later, box office receipts become completely irrelevant. After all, if it was good then, it still has the goods today, even if audiences at the time couldn't see that. Below are some movies from the 1990s that bombed at the box office when they dropped in cineplexes, but are well worth your time.

Peter Jackson's "Dead Alive" (also called "Braindead") was one of the most surprising horror films of the '90s. Made on a shoestring budget of only $3 million by Jackson (who would of course get used to directing on a much larger budget with his "The Lord of the Rings" and "Hobbit" trilogies), "Dead Alive" is a gory, inventive romp about a young man fighting off a horde of zombies (and dealing with some nasty mother issues, too). Although its low budget should have made it an easy success, the film only made around $240,000, and it would be unjustly ignored by American audiences until Jackson's later success prompted a re-evaluation.

While it didn't quite connect with American audiences, the film had a profound influence on another young horror buff across the pond in Edgar Wright, who would pay homage to the film in his own movie "Shaun of the Dead." Even setting its influence on other movies aside, "Dead Alive" is an electrifying and darkly funny horror flick with some of the best practical effects of all time — including a truly innovative use of a lawnmower. You might think you've seen bloody horror movies, but you've almost certainly never seen anything quite like "Dead Alive."

Ralph Bakshi, the man that made the infamous X-rated animated film "Fritz The Cat," combined sex and cartoons one more time with "Cool World." In it, a cartoonist (Gabriel Byrne) has to resist the sexual advances of his own creation, a "doodle" named Holli Would (voiced by Kim Basinger). Meanwhile, a detective (Brad Pitt) works to prevent her from breaking down the boundaries of reality. It can be a strange movie, with a juxtaposition of live-action and animation that looks like an adult parody of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit," but it's a fascinating experiment.

Audiences weren't exactly drawn to the film, and it ended up only recouping around half of its $30 million budget, which isn't exactly surprising. While it likely won't turn up on anyone's "Best of the '90s" list anytime soon, the film is so singular in its conception that it's worth seeing, at least once. "The plot is too sketchy to provide much of a framework, and the only logic here is the logic of fevered daydreams," said the Orlando Sentinel in one of the film's most positive reviews. "Yet, in spurts, the movie's enjoyable."

While "Alien" might be the most well-known horror movie that takes place in space, it's far from the only one. The slow-burning Paul W.S. Anderson flick "Event Horizon" taps into that uniquely human fear of space as an endless, empty void. The movie follows a crew investigating a distress signal coming from the titular spaceship, which had disappeared seven years prior. What follows is a kaleidoscope of horrifying images, spooky Latin phrases, and the creeping realization that flying millions of miles through space doesn't put you any further away from hell.

"Event Horizon" is arguably Anderson's best movie, combining the bloody genre thrills that pervade his other work with an able cast that is able to inject the necessary gravitas. Sam Neill in particular is absolutely terrifying as the member of the space crew most susceptible to the dark whispers of the otherworldly horror on the ship. If the "Alien" movies didn't completely turn you away from space travel, then "Event Horizon" certainly will. Watching it back, it's hard to fathom that it only made $26 million. With a budget of $60 million, that makes it one of the most notable flops of the day.

The Coen brothers have made a successful career for themselves with a slew of idiosyncratic scripts. While they've found plenty of success, and cult status, that doesn't mean they're immune to failure, even for one of their best movies. "The Hudsucker Proxy" is a biting satire of big business, a loving homage to classic feel-good movies like "Mr. Deeds Goes To Town" and "It's A Wonderful Life." The film follows Norville Barnes as he moves to New York from Indiana and accidentally becomes head of a massive company as the unknowing patsy for a complicated scheme to depress stock prices.

As with any Coen brothers movie, the film is packed to the brim with memorable dialogue and likable characters, but the look of "Hudsucker" was so striking that more than a few critics and audiences felt put off and confused. It ended up pulling in less than $3 million from a budget of $40 million, making it a notable failure. A more cohesive look at the Coen brothers' larger oeuvre would reveal the kinds of stories they were interested in telling, which makes "The Hudsucker Proxy" a much more fulfilling theatrical experience. If nothing else, there's never been a better explanation for why hula hoops exist.

The original "Tank Girl" comics are an energetic, frenetic, counter-culture blast to the eyeballs with a unique art style by Jamie Hewlett, but it was the character of Tank Girl herself that endeared the comic to fans. She was rude, hyper-violent, and so utterly unconcerned with other people's opinions that she became a '90s embodiment of riot grrrl-adjacent punk. Depicting a comic with such a specific visual voice and main character might have been a tall order, but director Rachel Talalay's film adaptation of "Tank Girl" does about as good a job as it's possible to do with the backing of a major film studio.

To start with, Lori Petty is a picture-perfect Tank Girl, nailing the irreverence and punk attitude of the character. The movie is visually abrasive at times, but the dynamite soundtrack and charismatic lead make it worth a watch. Just be prepared for your senses to be assaulted. "The movie version of the graphic comic book is a classic case of kitchen-sink filmmaking, in which the principals have thrown everything into the stew, hoping enough will stick to the audience," Variety said in its review at the time. It's almost impossible to defend or recommend — you either "get" it or walk away shaking your head. Sadly, those who walked away shaking their heads after seeing the film in cinemas back in 1995 clearly told others not to watch it, because it only made $4 million from a budget of $25 million.

"Ravenous" is a brilliant subversion of audience expectations, a horror movie that's as funny as it is scary. The film follows a mid-19th century war hero exiled in the Sierra Nevada. He's investigating stories of a Wendigo — a human given otherworldly strength after eating the flesh of another man. Guy Pearce shines as the ousted captain, struggling with survivor's guilt and the consequences of the actions which brought him into exile. The entire cast is able to tap into the film's tone, pushing for laughs in humorous scenes and giving weight to the dramatic ones.

Ultimately, the film's a biting (no pun intended) satire of American exceptionalism, capitalism, and Manifest Destiny. It's a rare film that's able to make such subject matter work within a horror movie structure — and doubly so within a film that's funny as well. Audiences likely missed out on this underrated picture due mostly to a trailer that misrepresented the tone of the movie, selling it as an awkward, comedic period piece. Don't be fooled, though, "Ravenous" has a lot of meat on its bones. Not that you'd think it from looking at its box office receipts — while it cost just $12 million to make, it only managed to make a little over $2 million.

Superhero movies might not have been all that popular in the '90s, but they were at least more popular than superhero parodies. With that in mind, "Mystery Men" never really had a chance. The film cost a whopping $68 million to make, but only managed to bring in $33 million worldwide. Still, people who slept on the film missed an endearing superhero story with one of the strangest casts ever assembled (Ben Stiller, William H. Macy, Tom Waits, Eddie Izzard, Paul Reubens, Hank Azaria — and a Michael Bay cameo, for Pete's sake). It's a quintessentially '90s movie, complete with a music video tie-in to Smash Mouth's "All Star."

With the current glut of superhero movies, it's a delight watching the misfits of "Mystery Men" fumble around with their mostly useless superpowers. In fact, the current climate in Hollywood means many of the jokes in the film have actually improved with age. After revisiting the film in 2012, Time Out heaped praise on director Kinka Usher, an unknown French helmer with a background in TV commercials. "Usher's amiable spoof of superhero movies takes a brave stab at rewriting the mythology from the inside out, with lots of witty, mildly subversive stuff." Unsurprisingly, Usher hasn't worked in Hollywood since, but is no doubt happy that more recent appraisals of his sole feature film have been on the kind side.

In 1994, Tim Burton pivoted away from his usual flights of fancy toward a quirky, black-and-white biopic saluting filmmaker Edward D. Wood Jr., known for his low-budget science fiction, crime, and horror films. Starring Johnny Depp as the titular auteur of shlock, "Ed Wood" is a terrific showbiz comedy with tremendous heart. Wood's story (or, at least, this version of it) fits the Tim Burton mold perfectly, painting a portrait of a man whose quirks make him an outsider until he seizes the opportunity to share his uniqueness with the world. Unlike the talented Edward Scissorhands, however, what makes Edward Wood unique is a total blindness to how terrible his art really is.

"Ed Wood" is Tim Burton's most critically-celebrated film. However, for all its acclaim, it was a clunker at the box office, recouping only about a third of its $18 million production budget. It remains Burton's lowest-grossing film by far, and he has rarely strayed from his signature blood-and-pinstripes aesthetic since. One can only imagine what Burton's career path might have looked like if "Ed Wood" had been a success, or if he had at least received some personal validation on the awards circuit for his work on the film (while the director wasn't given a look, Martin Landau did scoop a best supporting actor Oscar for his turn as horror movie icon Bela Lugosi).

In his prime, Dutch filmmaker Paul Verhoeven was such an effective satirist of American culture and cinema that American filmgoers (and even critics sometimes) had trouble knowing when he was joking. This happened most famously upon the release of his 1997 sci-fi epic "Starship Troopers," a broad, over-the-top send-up of pro-war propaganda that went over the heads of an audience to whom jingoistic violence was so ubiquitous that it became a vision worth embracing.

Such was also the case with Verhoeven's previous film, "Showgirls," a ridiculous, exploitative, NC-17-rated drama about a young woman trying to make it as an exotic dancer in Las Vegas. Broadly panned upon its release for its cranked-to-eleven acting and sex scenes that overshoot "sexy" by miles, "Showgirls" was a commercial disaster, grossing about $20 million on a $45 million budget. In the years since, however, "Showgirls" has become an iconic film of the 1990s.

Some fans see it as a riotous parody and have mined it for inspiration in drag shows, stage reenactments, and other gleefully garish rituals. This legacy is explored in the loving 2019 documentary "You Don't Nomi." Still, others feel that there's nothing funny about "Showgirls" at all, and that its superficial hyperbole is the only way to truly capture the cruel, misogynist meat grinder of the entertainment industry. Either way, "Showgirls" has been rescued from the dustbin of infamy and frequently appears on cable, streaming services, and at art house theaters — typically around midnight.

Disney is no stranger to live-action box office bombs, but before the likes of "The Lone Ranger" and "John Carter," one of the Mouse House's biggest turkeys was 1992's "Newsies," starring a young Christian Bale. Disney was printing money with animated musicals in the early 1990s, but the live-action "Newsies" banked an abysmal $2.7 million. Of course, live-action movie musicals have been hit or miss at the box office for decades, which is why 2023's "Wonka" wasn't even marketed as one. So, if a musical rendition of the New York newsboy strike of 1899 doesn't sound particularly compelling to you, it wasn't to moviegoers in 1992, either. "Newsies" didn't exactly make headlines — at least, not good ones.

The thing is, it's the music that makes a musical, and longtime Disney maestro Alan Menken manages to make libretto out of labor relations. "Newsies" boasts a peppy and upbeat soundtrack, featuring such memorable tunes as "Seize The Day" and "The World Will Know." Actor and writer Harvey Fierstein knew that Disney had something, so he retooled "Newsies" as a successful stage production, which became a hit after moving to Broadway in 2012. We wouldn't be surprised if the musical based on the movie becomes a movie again (but we definitely don't expect it to be marketed as such). In the meantime, why not give this flawed but undeniably charming flick a try.

One year before appearing as the smarmy villain in "Titanic," Billy Zane tried to "Slam Evil" (that was literally the tagline) in one of the biggest busts of the '90s: 1996's "The Phantom." And he did it in a skin-tight mauve suit (don't let anybody ever tell you that movie acting is dignified). Based on Lee Falk's pulp comic from the 1930s, Zane plays Kit Walker, the titular Phantom. He is the latest in a familial line of purple-clad superheroes, who since the 16th century have sworn to fight evil from their fictional African island hideout. Now Kit must work with his ex-girlfriend, Diana Palmer (Kristy Swanson), to stop the dastardly Xander Drax (Treat Williams) from wielding the power of three magic skulls. 

"The Phantom" delivers exactly what it promises, and thanks to Zane's earnestness, Williams' mustache-twirling zaniness, and especially David Newman's rousing score, it's kind of reminds you of a low-rent "Raiders of the Lost Ark." Alas, "The Phantom" wishes it made "Raiders" money, as its $17 million haul on a $45 million budget crashed this potential franchise right out of the runway. However, it's not as bad as you'd think. In fact, it's actually a pretty entertaining movie. In its review of the film, Variety said: "While it hardly stands to vanquish the celluloid incarnations of Superman and Batman, this version of an older cartoon crusader's exploits does have a pleasingly astute sense of its place in the great scheme of things pulp."

Insult "Hocus Pocus" in front of a '90s kid at your peril. The Halloween classic has a passionate coven of converts who adore its mix of Disney vibes and black magic. However, there's no denying that it crashed worse than a tipsy witch on a broomstick when it dropped in 1993. Veteran film critic Roger Ebert famously said that it was "like attending a party you weren't invited to, and where you don't know anybody, and they're all in on a joke but won't explain it to you." The film brought in less than $45 million during its original run, on a budget of $28 million. When you factor in all the other costs of making and promoting a movie, "Hocus Pocus" was a big flop for the Mouse House.

How could Disney miss with such a surefire Halloween hit? By not releasing it during the Halloween season: Execs inexplicably thought it was a bright idea to unveil "Hocus Pocus" in July. "Jurassic Park" was still stomping to a record-breaking run at the time, so "Hocus Pocus" flew well under the radar. Thankfully, the film built up the following it deserves over time, becoming one of the spooky season's must-watch movies. "Hocus Pocus" remains a delightful romp with three leads who clearly understood the assignment: Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Kathy Najimy play the Sanderson sisters with such gleeful gusto you almost find yourself rooting for them over the kids. Almost.

One of the great injustices in cinematic history is that not nearly enough people went to see Joel and Ethan Coen's 1998 masterpiece "The Big Lebowski" when it opened in theaters. Perhaps moviegoers just didn't know what to make of this film, a psychedelic pseudo-spoof of film noir with Jeff Bridges' slacker stoner in place of the sleuth. With around $17 million domestic on a $15 million budget, "The Big Lebowski" was a bomb in North America (though its $46 million worldwide saved it from the gutter). 

Besides being one of the most quotable movies of all time, "The Big Lebowski" is a showcase for some of the most memorable performances from many of our greatest actors: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Julianne Moore, Sam Elliott, Steve Buscemi, John Turturro, John Goodman, and of course, Jeff Bridges (whose character, The Dude, was inspired by a real-life Coen acquaintance). 

What's great is that you can tell every single one of them is having a blast with the Coens' signature dialogue. The Los Angeles-set film is an absurd existential hybrid that almost defies categorization besides being funny in a non-traditional way. Over the decades since its release, "The Big Lebowski" has gone from a box office flop to a bonafide cult classic. Sure, some may not get it, to which we simply say: "That's just, like, your opinion, man."

If you spend a lot of time on the internet, you've probably seen more than one "think piece" about how this or that generation just doesn't want to work. Writer-director Mike Judge was well aware of this trend way back in 1999 and realized it was because, simply, most workplaces kinda suck. It was a message way ahead of its time, as evidenced by the box office receipts: Judge's first foray into live-action filmmaking (after creating "Beavis and Butt-Head" and "King of the Hill") made just $12 million worldwide on a $10 million budget. Many comedy fans missed "Office Space" in multiplexes, but fell in love with Judge's brilliantly dry sendup of America's corporate culture on cable and home video.

"Office Space" has become a cult classic in the years since it dropped to underwhelming figures, and fans often claim that it has inspired other creators. For example, some say that there are clear parallels between "Office Space" and Ricky Gervais' cynical satire "The Office" (as well as NBC's less-acerbic adaptation), while others have pointed out that the film seemingly shaped the idea for "Severance." Judge's film is also the grandfather of countless memes lampooning work culture. "Office Space" feels very '90s (in a good way), but it's not a time capsule — it's more like a crystal ball. The film shone a light on America's increasingly toxic relationship with work in brutally hilarious fashion.

Before the decade was through, the cast of the '90s film "School Ties" would find box office glory: Brendan Fraser, Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, and Chris O'Donnell all feature here, but they were a long way away from the limelight in 1992. Unfortunately for the up-and-comers, "School Ties" failed Movie Economics 101 with a $14.7 million take from a reported budget of $18 million. Not exactly a passing grade, but thankfully not bad enough to sink these would-be movie stars' careers before they got started. 

Set in the 1950s, Fraser plays a Jewish student with a football scholarship at a prestigious prep school who feels he has to hide his background from his classmates, even his best friends (Damon and O'Donnell). It's a bit heavy-handed at times, and comparisons to the superior "Dead Poets Society" didn't help, but "School Ties" is elevated by its cast of future A-listers. Fraser is especially watchable, embodying the movie star charisma he'd bring to "The Mummy" just seven years later.

"School Ties" isn't an amazing movie, but it's a good one, and is especially entertaining as a "before they were famous" time capsule from the early 1990s. "More notable perhaps for a roster of future stars and Oscar winners than for its unexceptional plot, this well executed film nevertheless has its charms," Time Out said after revisiting the film in 2012. "The script effectively dramatizes the school's competitive, hothouse atmosphere and is sensitive to the situations of all the pupils, as well as to the pressure of expectation and tradition."

Samuel L. Jackson seemingly surprised the audience on "The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon" when he said that his favorite film role of all time is Mitch Henessy from 1996's "The Long Kiss Goodnight." You can tell by the polite but mild smattering of applause (compared to the enthusiastic reactions to the likes of Mace Windu from Star Wars and Nick Fury from the Marvel Cinematic Universe) that those in attendance had no idea what he was talking about. No wonder: On a $65 million budget, "The Long Kiss Goodnight" barely made $33 million. It was a colossal dud that the film's star (Geena Davis) and director (then-husband Renny Harlin) most definitely did not need just one year after "Cutthroat Island."

It's a little sad that moviegoers didn't vibe with "The Long Kiss Goodnight," because it really is a criminally underseen action movie. Davis plays a highly trained, amnesia-stricken government assassin who is roused from her cozy suburban life as a schoolteacher and single mother after an accident. She hires Jackson's private detective to discover her past, only for her past to come after her and her daughter. The bickering co-leads are great, Harlin's direction is tight, and Shane Black's script is whip-smart. It's a shame nobody saw "The Long Kiss Goodnight" at the time, but you should definitely check it out now. If you do, you'll see why it's Jackson's favorite film role.

Michael Keaton owes a lot to Tim Burton's record-breaking "Batman" movies, but it's worth remembering that he got his start in comedies like 1982's "Night Shift" and 1983's "Mr. Mom." Keaton returned to his roots in 1996's "Multiplicity," directed by Harold Ramis. He plays a construction worker who is torn between family time and his demanding job, so decides to clone himself. Things work out so well with his clones that Keaton's character clones another version of himself, then another. Before long, he's struggling to manage his multiple clones without his wife (Andie MacDowell) finding out. 

Yes, it's a contrived sitcom setup that fails to capitalize on the potential of the premise, which is especially frustrating considering it comes from Ramis, the director of "Groundhog Day." But, in the same way that "Groundhog Day" film trades existential philosophizing for heartwarming humor, "Multiplicity" seems satisfied in just being silly, and so what? We can bemoan what "Multiplicity" isn't or celebrate what it is, which is a fun flick that gives Keaton the chance to shine playing multiple versions of the same character.

Despite being a ready-made crowd pleaser, the crowds didn't show up, as "Multiplicity" made an underwhelming $20 million from a budget of $45 million. The film split critics at the time, but many have come to enjoy it in the years since. "Both assuredly funny without being forced, and smart without being smug, this is one comedy that deserves to go forth and, indeed, multiply," said Empire magazine after revisiting the movie.

The Keanu Reeves renaissance continues, largely via his "John Wick" movie franchise about a beleaguered former assassin, but he has already appeared in a whole host of great movies starring beleaguered guys named John — from Johnny Utah to John Constantine to Don John. But easily one of the best and weirdest Johns that Reeves has played is the titular role in "Johnny Mnemonic," a much-derided movie (despite its all-star cast) that almost singlehandedly set back the cyberpunk movement. It cost $26 million to make, but only managed to pull in around $19 million.

Reeves' Johnny is trapped by his circumstances: He's traded in his memories to be a "data courier" (his brain is "wired" to receive uploads) but wants to do one big job in order to make money and buy back the memories he's lost. But yesterday's technobabble is today's modern age. With Johnny screaming things like "I want to get out of this rat hole. I want to get online," it's a wonder that millennials haven't gravitated toward this movie. While the production value is very much of its time, the flick's biggest flaw is perhaps that it came out about 20 years too early for your average moviegoers to relate to its subject matter.