Can an homage to something horrifically bad be itself good? Directors Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino pose that possibility in Grindhouse, a three-hour joint effort in which they pay loving tribute to the exploitation films of the 1960s and ’70s. The original grindhouse movies were usually presented as double features separated by trailers, as is Grindhouse: two short features with four trailers, one at the beginning and three at intermission.

The film has been deliberately scratched, spliced, and otherwise messed up to look as if it’s been shown at least a hundred times on unkind projectors. Apparently missing reels are noted with signs on the screen. The overall sound, though, is state-of-the-art surround. I’ve seldom heard a 5.1 track deployed in as many ways as this one. At times, it’s made to sound old by inserting pops, usually to complement places where the film has been "spliced" or "torn."

The idea of pairing two awful movies to make a better whole is not entirely original. Elite DVD’s Drive-In Movies series paired awful movies with all the trimmings. But while Elite went for true drive-in sound -- the soundtrack came only from the left front speaker, as it would from one of those boxes you hung on your car window, and the other channels carried cricket and crowd sounds -- they paired already-made films. Rodriguez and Tarantino have made their own features and trailers, along with their own rules.

After Machete, a trailer directed by Rodriguez for an unmade film about an angry Mexican you’d better not piss off, the first feature begins: Rodriguez’s digitally shot Planet Terror. Though the title seems to indicate a science-fiction film, it is in fact a send-up of just about every zombie movie ever made. The zombies are created when government chemical experiments, led by a corrupt military officer (Bruce Willis), go bad, and soon the entire small Texas town in which the film is set swarms with flesh-eating fiends. Cherry Darling (Rose McGowan), a stripper at the local club, has one of her legs taken off. A wooden leg is pushed into the stump, and Cherry keeps on hopping. Later, she gets the money scene: her peg leg is replaced with an automatic weapon, with which she mows down armies of zombies. After a lot of hard work, Cherry becomes the heroine, leading a small group of survivors to a better life.

Planet Terror is loaded with gore. I thought it was too much, but you might not feel that way, especially if you enjoy seeing a container filled with hacked-off testicles, or the constant explosion of heads. But the main problem is that Planet Terror is too good to be an homage to bad movies and too bad to be taken seriously. For my ticket, it’s the weak half of Grindhouse.

Then follow three more trailers -- Werewolf Women of the S.S., Don’t, and Thanksgiving -- all, like Machete, for movies that have not been made. Don’t, directed by Edgar Wright, is particularly good satire: If you feel like opening that door, don’t. If you feel like screaming, don’t. Etc. It’s done in 1970s style, with screaming words on the screen, and a deep male voice simultaneously intoning them. Thanksgiving, directed by Eli Roth, is both a clever parody of John Carpenter’s Halloween and a piece of film that might go too far in presenting disturbing images: "White meat, dark meat. All will be carved." And Werewolf Women of the S.S., directed by rocker Rob Zombie, says it all in the title.

The second feature, Tarantino’s Death Proof, is the gem of the evening -- an affectionate tribute to sexploitation movies featuring car chases. Kurt Russell scores as Stuntman Mike, a psycho bent on causing mayhem in his souped-up, black-as-soot stunt car. In a lengthy prologue, we see what he’s capable of doing. Mike is then pitted against lovely but strong women who turn out to be his match. The movie seems a little out of whack, but then, we’re told right at the beginning that several reels are missing. The car chase is spectacular, Tarantino’s dialogue flows easily, as usual, and his choice of obscure pop music for the soundtrack is impeccable.

I’m sure some will find Tarantino’s greater dependence on dialogue dull, and will prefer Rodriguez’s constant action. I’ll stick with Death Proof and the Don’t trailer as the high points of this thoroughly entertaining night at the movies. They prove that an homage to very bad things can be very good.

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