I don’t know if it’s the weirdest movie I’ve ever seen, but it’s definitely one of the most gloriously ridiculous films I’ve endured: a cinematic train wreck called Sharknado (2013).

I remember starting it with a very open mind. I just wanted to relax, switch my brain off for a while, and maybe even fall asleep. So I picked it and told myself: “It’s a bad B-movie. Let it bore you into a nice, peaceful nap.”

Then the madness began.

The plot, if you can call it that, is about a tornado that scoops up an army of hungry sharks and hurls them across a flooded, apocalyptic Los Angeles. Yes, you read that correctly. Flying sharks. In a tornado.

Everything about the movie was terrible. The script was awful, the acting looked like everyone had lost a bet, and the special effects seemed to have been created during someone’s lunch break. Yet, for reasons I still can’t explain, I was completely hypnotized. I couldn’t look away. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion… if the car was also on fire and somehow filled with sharks.

For an hour and a half I suffered, fascinated by every terrible decision the filmmakers made.

Then came the ending.

The finale was so absurd, so outrageous, and so aggressively disconnected from reality that I completely lost it. I laughed for several minutes straight. It felt as if the movie had spent ninety minutes hitting me in the head with a wrench, only to finish by launching the wrench into orbit.

The truth is, Sharknado is so spectacularly bad that it loops all the way around and becomes entertainment. For the sake of culture, I genuinely believe everyone should watch it at least once in their life.

Some movies leave you with profound questions about life, humanity, and the meaning of existence.

Sharknado left me wondering who approved the budget.