‘Tammy and the T-Rex’ is a Gloriously Flawed ‘90s Cult Classic
The Scoop features personal essays on movie-centric topics.
By Elliott Cuff
It wasn’t that long ago when Sharknado was released and quickly became the perfect case study for what a “so bad it’s good” movie could be. Objectively it missed the mark, but culturally it was heralded for being such a uniquely bizarre and unintentionally hilarious piece of cinema. Ten years on and it’s much more rare that cult films of questionable quality can leave the same lasting impact.
Perhaps that’s why cult movies from the ‘80s and ‘90s continue to hold so much nostalgic appeal. Back then, filmmakers had more freedom to take risks and cut corners to get their movies made, and weren’t subjected to YouTube takedowns or nitpicking on social media.
One movie that definitely would not have survived that level of scrutiny in more modern times: the 1994 sci-fi comedy Tammy and the T-Rex, which thankfully retains a dedicated fanbase despite its glorious flaws.
Not your average teen comedy
Quite astonishingly, Tammy and the T-Rex set expectations right away by doing something you’d seldom see today—getting the title of the movie wrong in the opening credits. Opening as “Tanny and the Teenage T-Rex” while also crediting Denise Richards as “Tanny” despite every character referring to her as Tammy throughout, the movie lets you know what you’re in for from the jump.
Helmed by British filmmaker Stewart Raffill, who had previously directed critical disaster and famed E.T. rip-off Mac and Me, Tammy and the T-Rex begins just like any other average teen comedy. It first introduces us to our main characters, the beautiful and bubbly Tammy and her adorably sweet boyfriend Michael, brought to life with enthusiasm by Richards and a young Paul Walker respectively. Their relationship is presented with a major roadblock: Tammy's violent ex-boyfriend Billy, who seeks out any opportunity to threaten Michael and claim ownership over Tammy.
Teenage jealousy is a dangerous game, and Michael quickly finds that out the hard way. Billy and his thuggish friends decide to beat Michael unconscious one night, after which they abduct him and leave him in a dazed state in a nearby wild animal park. Michael comes around just in time to be severely mauled by a lion, leaving him comatose (with no visible injuries, conveniently) in a hospital bed.
Not long after that we meet Dr. Wachenstein, a mad scientist who somehow arrives at the decision to remove Michael’s still-living brain and implant it into the body of a large, mechanical T-Rex, to somehow achieve immortality? That’s cinema at its finest if you ask me.
A certain ramshackle charm
Some filmmakers spend years ruminating on a concept for a movie before they’re able to execute their vision, while others have projects handed to them by the studio system. Raffill falls into neither category with this movie, and the particularly strange way Tammy and the T-Rex came to be might explain why the film is the way it is.
Raffill claims to have been approached by a man who owned theaters in South America about making a movie with an animatronic T-Rex he was shipping to a park in Texas. Raffill was told he had to start filming within the month if he wanted to use it. With no story in place, he came up with the entire concept and script in a week. And not only was the production short, but the filming locations were all within 25 minutes of Raffill’s house.
Filming was all about speed and convenience, so much so that smoke can be seen in several shots because a large fire that destroyed several properties occurred during the shoot and there wasn’t time to wait for it to blow over.
“What it lacks in conventional filmic quality, it makes up for with creativity and genuine enthusiasm.”
It wouldn’t be difficult to draw up a list of silly moments and mistakes in Tammy and the T-Rex, such as the animatronic T-Rex using a payphone with what is clearly a human hand or a boom mic twice appearing in-frame. But those errors make the movie endearing. Marvel’s latest blockbuster releases might have stellar visual effects, but there’s something soulless about a sizable group of VFX geniuses piecing a film together in a computer suite.
There’s a certain ramshackle charm to Tammy and the T-Rex precisely because of how off-kilter it is and how haphazardly it was put together. What it lacks in conventional filmic quality, it makes up for with creativity and genuine enthusiasm, despite its absurdity. It might not have been conceived under the guise of artistic inspiration, but the crew and the then-inexperienced lead actors never dared to phone it in.
All you need is conviction and a camera
Everyone has their own reason for watching movies. Some see cinema as a recreational activity to pass the time. Some turn to extravagant worlds and characters to temporarily escape. And some, like me, are simply obsessed with consuming all they can.
What connects each of those mindsets is the desire to be entertained, to be captivated, or to be moved emotionally. Movies should make us feel something. The biggest disappointments aren’t ever the poorly constructed films—they’re the ones that leave no lasting impact, good or bad.
It’s tough to imagine a single person who genuinely loves Tammy and the T-Rex would go as far as to call it a “good” movie, because by conventional standards it just isn’t. But it does make us feel things. It makes me laugh, occasionally at the movie but more often than not with it. And it reminds me the only thing anyone needs to make something memorable is a camera and the conviction to press ahead, undeterred by the limitations imposed upon them.
While I’m generally opposed to the notion that you need to “switch your brain off” to enjoy certain movies, Tammy and the T-Rex stands as proof that sometimes it’s more about the enjoyment you experience, ironic or otherwise, that actually matters.
Elliott Cuff is a writer, journalist, and film enthusiast. Follow him on Instagram @elliottlovesmovies.