Film

The Stuff

Name: The Stuff
Genre: Horror, Science Fiction, Comedy
Released: 1985
Cast: Michael Moriarty, Andrea Marcovicci, Garrett Morris, Paul Sorvino, Scott Bloom

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A gelatinous goo bubbling up from the earth becomes the nation's hottest dessert—until it starts eating people from the inside out. Larry Cohen's 1985 creature feature splices body horror, corporate satire, and genuine unease with comedy that mostly lands. It's trashy and fun but takes its premise seriously enough that the grotesqueness sticks with you.

TMDb rating

3.0

Should you watch it?

Watch it if you enjoy cheerfully lurid B-movie satire where a corporate conspiracy is played straight-faced and the gleeful gore keeps tipping into jokes about consumer greed.

Skip it if you want subtle, tightly controlled horror, since this one is loud, scrappy and happy to be silly, with a plot that wanders when it should be building dread.

What it asks of you: It runs a brisk eighty-six minutes and rewards a viewer who can laugh at excess, asking you to meet its over-the-top tone on its own terms rather than hunt for restraint.

Not sure? Find tonight's pick in a minute.

If you liked this

Gremlins1984

A similar blend of creature chaos and dark comedy that never winks at the audience. The monsters are genuinely unsettling even as the film stays playful, and the satire of consumerism feels earned rather than preachy.

But The tone is uneven—it lurches between genuine horror and slapstick in ways that don't always mesh. Some of the comedy moments deflate the tension rather than sharpening it.

The Hidden1987

An alien body-snatcher thriller with a kinetic B-movie energy and excellent chemistry between its leads. It has that same quality of treating something fundamentally ridiculous with straight-faced conviction, letting the absurdity be funny without needing to acknowledge it.

But The pace is relentless and occasionally exhausting. If you want downtime or character breathing room, this isn't built for that.

Videodrome1983

Cronenberg's masterpiece of contamination and paranoia. Body horror as metaphor for how media infects thought. It's visually disgusting and intellectually rigorous at the same time, and it's genuinely beautiful in its grotesqueness.

But It's bleak and deeply weird. The narrative doesn't hold your hand, and the imagery is deliberately repulsive. Some viewers find it pretentious.

Not sure tonight? Get a pick in a minute, starting from The Stuff

The wildcard

Something you would not have found on your own.

Eating Raoul1982

Both are Larry Cohen-adjacent satirical horror: consumerism corrupts and consumes. Both use trash-bin B-movie aesthetics to say something sharp about American appetite.

A couple murders swingers for profit. It's a pitch-black satire of bourgeois respectability and consumerism that uses the same grotesque-comedy register as The Stuff but aims it at class rather than corporate food. Cheaply made and deeply subversive.

But It's genuinely difficult—casually cruel and occasionally genuinely ugly. The humor is acidic and won't feel fun if you're not in the right headspace.

Night of the Creeps1986

Fred Dekker's love letter to B-horror that's just as concerned with having fun as with scaring you. Sluglike aliens infect victims, the plot is ridiculous, but the film's affection for every frame makes it joyful. Genuinely clever dialogue too.

But The horror beats are barely genuine scares. It's more interested in nostalgia and homage than in making you uncomfortable.

Tremors1990

Giant worms terrorizing a small town: the premise is goofy but the execution is perfect. Likeable characters, practical effects that still hold up, and a tone that trusts the audience to laugh while staying engaged with the stakes.

But It's fundamentally a creature-feature action film. If you want genuine horror rather than adventure, it won't deliver that.

Scanners1981

Cronenberg again, this time with telekinetic powers as the hook. The body horror is jaw-dropping—a head-exploding sequence that still shocks—and the paranoia narrative is taut. It's pure sci-fi horror without irony.

But The dialogue is expository and clunky. Some scenes feel padded, and the middle sags before picking back up for the finale.

The Fly1986

Cronenberg's most emotionally devastating film, even as it's also grotesquely funny. Jeff Goldblum's performance is astonishing—vulnerable and pathetic and monstrous all at once. The body horror is in service of a real tragedy.

But It's emotionally exhausting in a way that's genuinely uncomfortable. The disgust isn't fun; it's mean-spirited toward the protagonist in ways some viewers find hard to watch.

Basket Case1982

Frank Henenlotter's cult masterpiece about a man and his deformed twin brother kept in a wicker basket. It's cheap and weird and unashamed, with practical effects that are creative rather than polished. Genuinely funny and genuinely disturbing.

But The technical quality is obviously low-budget, which some find charming and others find distracting. The ending is nihilistic in a way that leaves you empty rather than satisfied.

Dead Poets Society1989

A body-horror satire about class and conformity that builds to a genuinely shocking finale. It's funny and grotesque and has real ideas underneath the splatter. The practical effects are inventive and the satire bites.

But The first hour is slow and the satirical target is blunt. The final act works better if you've invested in the setup, which takes patience.

Bad Taste1987

A ridiculous alien food premise played with total commitment. Both films gain their power from refusing to acknowledge how absurd they are.

Peter Jackson's first feature, made on a shoestring budget and driven by sheer creativity. Aliens eat humans for fast food. It's grotesque and funny and propulsive, with practical effects so inventive they distract from the low budget. Pure joy, deeply weird.

But It's aggressively silly—more slapstick than the premise might suggest. If you want horror atmosphere, it's the opposite of that.

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover1989

Both are about how appetite and consumption become monstrosity. But Greenaway goes Shakespearean and tragic where Cohen stays playful—same engine, utterly different emotional weight.

Peter Greenaway's baroque nightmare: cannibalism, consumption, and cruelty staged like opera. It's visually overwhelming and morally complex. A meditation on appetite and power that makes The Stuff's consumerism look simple by comparison.

But It's deliberately repulsive and takes two hours to wound you. No fun, no jokes, no relief. Many viewers find it exhausting rather than rewarding.