B级片

B级片是指制作的商业电影，而非文艺片。在最初定义里，B级片指在好莱坞黄金时代以形式发行的电影中相对鲜为人知的电影，类似唱片行业里的B面歌。现今美国电影产业中，双片连映的制作发行方式在1950年代末逐步消失，但B级片却有了更广泛的定义。在后黄金时代，B级片的定义出现歧义：一方面，B级片被认为是剥削电影，特色为淫秽内容；另一方面，B级片被认为展示出电影的高工艺水准与美学创造力。
在这两种解释中，大多数B级片被认为代表一种特定的电影类型；西部片是B级片的黄金时代，而低成本科幻片和恐怖片则在1950年代开始受欢迎。早期的系列B级片里，相同演员会重复饰演相同角色。然而，B级片片长总是短于顶级制作的电影，大多在70分钟以内，导致当时观众认为B级片不如大制作电影，也让很多影评人忽略个别B级片。
现代B级片虽会激发多部续集电影，但已很少出现系列电影。随着大制作电影平均放映时长增加，B级片片长也开始增加。如今，B级片定义依旧存在矛盾：现代B级片可能是缺乏艺术野心的类型电影，也可能是既不像大制作电影被绑手绑脚、也不拘泥于“严肃独立电影”的活泼欢快的电影。同时，这个术语也可指某些高预算且带剥削性质的主流电影，它们通常与传统B级片相关类型片有关。
一直以来，B级片为很多电影从业人员和其他事业不顺遂的人提供机会。安东尼·曼、乔纳森·戴米等知名电影人都是从B级片开始锻炼制作电影的能力；约翰·韦恩、杰克·尼科尔森等著名影星亦以B级片为职涯开端；同时也给前电影明星文森特·普莱斯和凯伦·布莱克继续发展的机遇。有些演员，像贝拉·卢戈西、布鲁斯·坎贝尔、帕姆·格里尔等，则将他们大部分电影生涯贡献给B级片。B级演员（"B actor"）有时指主要或专门拍摄B级片的电影演员。
发展历史.
在1927-28年，无声时代的末期，好莱坞主要制片厂的故事片平均成本从福克斯的19万美元到米高梅的27.5万美元不等。这些数字既反映了成本或高达100万美元的 "特辑"，也反映了成本约5万美元的速成电影。这些低成本电影让制片厂能在重要电影的制片间隙最大限度地利用设施和合同员工，同时引入新人。
而同时期，行业内规模不及大厂的制片厂，例如哥伦比亚影业和，则是将重点放在预算更低的项目。他们的影片通常市场更短，其目标通常是那些必须减少租金和运营费用的电影院，尤其是小城镇和城市居民区的小影院（也被称为“nabe”）。甚至连更小规模的制片方（通常被称作“”（Poverty Row）)都拍了预算可以低于 3000 美元的电影，他们经常在没有得到大制片厂关注的人员之间捡漏。
1929年后，随着有声电影在美国的普及，许多独立放映商开始放弃当时主流的放映模式，该模式通常包括现场表演和在长故事片前播放各种各样的短片。此时发展出了一种新的设计方案：一个，一个短片和/或（serial film，以及一部，最后是一组双故事片。这种做法后来慢慢成为了标准操作。第二个故事片实际上在主活动前就放映，放映商只需付相较于等长的短片更低的价格。
各大电影公司有利于其附属影院的“许可”规则使得独立影院无法及时获得优质电影。第二个故事片则能让他们提高数量。 附加的电影还为该计划提供了“平衡”：将不同类型的故事片组合在一起。这种做法向潜在观众暗示，不论具体上映了什么，都可以期待自己感兴趣的内容。20 年代的低成本电影因此演变成好莱坞黄金时代的第二部故事片，即 B 级电影。
好莱坞黄金年代.
1930年代.
The major studios, at first resistant to the double feature, soon adapted all established B units to provide films for the expanding second-feature market. Block booking became standard practice: to get access to a studio's attractive A pictures, many theaters were obliged to rent the company's entire output for a season. With the B films rented at a flat fee (rather than the box office percentage basis of A films), rates could be set virtually guaranteeing the profitability of every B movie. The parallel practice of blind bidding largely freed the majors from worrying about their Bs' quality — even when booking in less than seasonal blocks, exhibitors had to buy most pictures sight unseen. The five largest studios — Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Paramount Pictures, Fox Film Corporation (20th Century Fox as of 1935), Warner Bros., and RKO Radio Pictures (descendant of FBO) — also belonged to companies with sizable theater chains, further securing the bottom line.
Poverty Row studios, from modest outfits like Mascot Pictures, Tiffany Pictures, and Sono Art-World Wide Pictures down to shoestring operations, made exclusively B movies, serials, and other shorts, and also distributed totally independent productions and imported films. In no position to directly block book, they mostly sold regional distribution exclusivity to "states rights" firms, which in turn peddled blocks of movies to exhibitors, typically six or more pictures featuring the same star (a relative status on Poverty Row). Two "major-minors" — Universal Studios and rising Columbia Pictures — had production lines roughly similar to, though somewhat better endowed than, the top Poverty Row studios. In contrast to the Big Five majors, Universal and Columbia had few or no theaters, though they did have top-rank film distribution exchanges.
In the standard Golden Age model, the industry's top product, the A films, premiered at a small number of select first-run houses in major cities. Double features were not the rule at these prestigious venues. As described by Edward Jay Epstein, "During these first runs, films got their reviews, garnered publicity, and generated the word of mouth that served as the principal form of advertising." Then it was off to the subsequent-run market where the double feature prevailed. At the larger local venues controlled by the majors, movies might turn over on a weekly basis. At the thousands of smaller, independent theaters, programs often changed two or three times a week. To meet the constant demand for new B product, the low end of Poverty Row turned out a stream of micro-budget movies rarely much more than sixty minutes long; these were known as "quickies" for their tight production schedules—as short as four days.
As Azam Patel describes, "Many of the poorest theaters, such as the 'grind houses' in the larger cities, screened a continuous program emphasizing action with no specific schedule, sometimes offering six quickies for a nickel in an all-night show that changed daily." Many small theaters never saw a big-studio A film, getting their movies from the states rights concerns that handled almost exclusively Poverty Row product. Millions of Americans went to their local theaters as a matter of course: for an A picture, along with the trailers, or screen previews, that presaged its arrival, "he new film's title on the marquee and the listings for it in the local newspaper constituted all the advertising most movies got", writes Epstein. Aside from at the theater itself, B films might not be advertised at all.
The introduction of sound had driven costs higher: by 1930, the average U.S. feature film cost $375,000 to produce. A broad range of motion pictures occupied the B category. The leading studios made not only clear-cut A and B films, but also movies classifiable as "programmers" (also known as "in-betweeners" or "intermediates"). As Taves describes, "Depending on the prestige of the theater and the other material on the double bill, a programmer could show up at the top or bottom of the marquee."
On Poverty Row, many Bs were made on budgets that would have barely covered petty cash on a major's A film, with costs at the bottom of the industry running as low as $5,000. By the mid-1930s, the double feature was the dominant U.S. exhibition model, and the majors responded. In 1935, B movie production at Warner Bros. was raised from 12 to 50% of studio output. The unit was headed by Bryan Foy, known as the "Keeper of the Bs". At Fox, which also shifted half of its production line into B territory, Sol M. Wurtzel was similarly in charge of more than twenty movies a year during the late 1930s.
A number of the top Poverty Row firms consolidated: Sono Art joined another company to create Monogram Pictures early in the decade. In 1935, Monogram, Mascot, and several smaller studios merged to establish Republic Pictures. The former heads of Monogram soon sold off their Republic shares and set up a new Monogram production house. Into the 1950s, most Republic and Monogram product was roughly on par with the low end of the majors' output. Less sturdy Poverty Row concerns—with a penchant for grand sobriquets like Conquest, Empire, Imperial, and Peerless—continued to churn out dirt-cheap quickies. Joel Finler has analyzed the average length of feature releases in 1938, indicating the studios' relative emphasis on B production (United Artists produced little, focusing on the distribution of prestigious films from independent outfits; Grand National, active 1936–40, occupied an analogous niche on Poverty Row, releasing mostly independent productions):
Taves estimates that half of the films produced by the eight majors in the 1930s were B movies. Calculating in the three hundred or so films made annually by the many Poverty Row firms, approximately 75% of Hollywood movies from the decade, more than four thousand pictures, are classifiable as Bs.
The Western was by far the predominant B genre in both the 1930s and, to a lesser degree, the 1940s. Film historian Jon Tuska has argued that "the 'B' product of the Thirties—the Universal films with , , and , the Columbia features with Buck Jones and Tim McCoy, the RKO George O'Brien series, the Republic Westerns with John Wayne and the Three Mesquiteers ... achieved a uniquely American perfection of the well-made story." At the far end of the industry, Poverty Row's Ajax put out oaters starring Harry Carey, then in his fifties. The Weiss outfit had the Range Rider series, the American Rough Rider series, and the Morton of the Mounted "northwest action thrillers". One low-budget oater of the era, made totally outside the studio system, profited from an outrageous concept: a Western with an all-midget cast, "The Terror of Tiny Town" (1938) was such a success in its independent bookings that Columbia picked it up for distribution.
Series of various genres, featuring recurrent, title-worthy characters or name actors in familiar roles, were particularly popular during the first decade of sound film. Fox's many B series, for instance, included Charlie Chan mysteries, Ritz Brothers comedies, and musicals with child star Jane Withers. These series films are not to be confused with the short, cliffhanger-structured serials that sometimes appeared on the same program. As with serials, however, many series were intended to attract young people—a theater that twin-billed part-time might run a "balanced" or entirely youth-oriented double feature as a matinee and then a single film for a more mature audience at night. In the words of one industry report, afternoon moviegoers, "composed largely of housewives and children, want quantity for their money while the evening crowds want 'something good and not too much of it.'"
Series films are often unquestioningly consigned to the B movie category, but even here there is ambiguity: at MGM, for example, popular series like the Andy Hardy and the Dr. Kildare–Dr. Gillespie chronicles had leading stars and budgets that would have been A-level at most of the lesser studios. For many series, even a lesser major's standard B budget was far out of reach: Poverty Row's Consolidated Pictures featured Tarzan, the Police Dog in a series with the proud name of Melodramatic Dog Features.
1940年代.
By 1940, the average production cost of an American feature was $400,000, a negligible increase over ten years. A number of small Hollywood companies had folded around the turn of the decade, including the ambitious Grand National, but a new firm, Producers Releasing Corporation (PRC), emerged as third in the Poverty Row hierarchy behind Republic and Monogram. The double feature, never universal, was still the prevailing exhibition model: in 1941, fifty percent of theaters were double-billing exclusively, and others employed the policy part-time.
In the early 1940s, legal pressure forced the studios to replace seasonal block booking with packages generally limited to five pictures. Restrictions were also placed on the majors' ability to enforce blind bidding. These were crucial factors in the progressive shift by most of the Big Five over to A-film production, making the smaller studios even more important as B movie suppliers. Genre pictures made at very low cost remained the backbone of Poverty Row, with even Republic's and Monogram's budgets rarely climbing over $200,000. Many smaller Poverty Row firms folded as the eight majors, with their proprietary distribution exchanges, now commanded about 95% of U.S. and Canadian box office receipts.
In 1946, independent producer David O. Selznick brought his bloated-budget spectacle "Duel in the Sun" to market with heavy nationwide promotion and wide release. The distribution strategy was a major success, despite what was widely perceived as the movie's poor quality. The "Duel" release anticipated practices that fueled the B movie industry in the late 1950s; when the top Hollywood studios made them standard two decades after that, the B movie was hard hit.
Considerations beside cost made the line between A and B movies ambiguous. Films shot on B-level budgets were occasionally marketed as A pictures or emerged as sleeper hits: one of 1943's biggest films was "Hitler's Children", an RKO thriller made for a fraction over $200,000. It earned more than in rentals, industry language for a distributor's share of gross box office receipts. Particularly in the realm of film noir, A pictures sometimes echoed visual styles generally associated with cheaper films. Programmers, with their flexible exhibition role, were ambiguous by definition. As late as 1948, the double feature remained a popular exhibition mode—it was standard policy at 25% of theaters and used part-time at an additional 36%.
The leading Poverty Row firms began to broaden their scope; in 1947, Monogram established a subsidiary, Allied Artists, to develop and distribute relatively expensive films, mostly from independent producers. Around the same time, Republic launched a similar effort under the "Premiere" rubric. In 1947 as well, PRC was subsumed by Eagle-Lion, a British company seeking entry to the American market. Warners' former "Keeper of the Bs", Brian Foy, was installed as production chief.
In the 1940s, RKO stood out among the industry's Big Five for its focus on B pictures. From a latter-day perspective, the most famous of the major studios' Golden Age B units is Val Lewton's horror unit at RKO. Lewton produced such moody, mysterious films as "Cat People" (1942), "I Walked with a Zombie" (1943), and "The Body Snatcher" (1945), directed by Jacques Tourneur, Robert Wise, and others who became renowned only later in their careers or entirely in retrospect. The movie now widely described as the first classic film noir—"Stranger on the Third Floor" (1940), a 64-minute B—was produced at RKO, which released many additional melodramatic thrillers in a similarly stylish vein.
The other major studios also turned out a considerable number of movies now identified as noir during the 1940s. Though many of the best-known film noirs were A-level productions, most 1940s pictures in the mode were either of the ambiguous programmer type or destined straight for the bottom of the bill. In the decades since, these cheap entertainments, generally dismissed at the time, have become some of the most treasured products of Hollywood's Golden Age.
In one sample year, 1947, RKO produced along with several noir programmers and A pictures, two straight B noirs: "Desperate" and "The Devil Thumbs a Ride". Ten B noirs that year came from Poverty Row's big three—Republic, Monogram, and PRC/Eagle-Lion—and one came from tiny Screen Guild. Three majors beside RKO contributed a total of five more. Along with these eighteen unambiguous B noirs, an additional dozen or so noir programmers came out of Hollywood.
Still, most of the majors' low-budget production remained the sort now largely ignored. RKO's representative output included the Mexican Spitfire and Lum and Abner comedy series, thrillers featuring the Saint and the Falcon, Westerns starring Tim Holt, and Tarzan movies with Johnny Weissmuller. Jean Hersholt played Dr. Christian in six films between 1939 and 1941. "The Courageous Dr. Christian" (1940) was a standard entry: "In the course of an hour or so of screen time, the saintly physician managed to cure an epidemic of spinal meningitis, demonstrate benevolence towards the disenfranchised, set an example for wayward youth, and calm the passions of an amorous old maid."
Down in Poverty Row, low budgets led to less palliative fare. Republic aspired to major-league respectability while making many cheap and modestly budgeted Westerns, but there was not much from the bigger studios that compared with Monogram "exploitation pictures" like juvenile delinquency exposé "Where Are Your Children?" (1943) and the prison film "Women in Bondage" (1943). In 1947, PRC's "The Devil on Wheels" brought together teenagers, hot rods, and death. The little studio had its own house auteur: with his own crew and relatively free rein, director Edgar G. Ulmer was known as "the Capra of PRC". Ulmer made films of every generic stripe: his "Girls in Chains" was released in May 1943, six months before "Women in Bondage"; by the end of the year, Ulmer had also made the teen-themed musical "Jive Junction" as well as "Isle of Forgotten Sins", a South Seas adventure set around a brothel.
1950年代的转型.
In 1948, a Supreme Court ruling in a federal antitrust suit against the majors outlawed block booking and led to the Big Five divesting their theater chains. With audiences draining away to television and studios scaling back production schedules, the classic double feature vanished from many American theaters during the 1950s. The major studios promoted the benefits of recycling, offering former headlining movies as second features in the place of traditional B films. With television airing many classic Westerns as well as producing its own original Western series, the cinematic market for B oaters in particular was drying up. After barely inching forward in the 1930s, the average U.S. feature production cost had essentially doubled over the 1940s, reaching by the turn of the decade—a 93% rise after adjusting for inflation.
The first prominent victim of the changing market was Eagle-Lion, which released its last films in 1951. By 1953, the old Monogram brand had disappeared, the company having adopted the identity of its higher-end subsidiary, Allied Artists. The following year, Allied released Hollywood's last B series Westerns. Non-series B Westerns continued to appear for a few more years, but Republic Pictures, long associated with cheap sagebrush sagas, was out of the filmmaking business by decade's end. In other genres, Universal kept its Ma and Pa Kettle series going through 1957, while Allied Artists stuck with the Bowery Boys until 1958. RKO, weakened by years of mismanagement, exited the movie industry in 1957.
Hollywood's A product was getting longer—the top ten box-office releases of 1940 had averaged 112.5 minutes; the average length of 1955's top ten was 123.4. In their modest way, the Bs were following suit. The age of the hour-long feature film was past; 70 minutes was now roughly the minimum. While the Golden Age-style second feature was dying, "B movie" was still used to refer to any low-budget genre film featuring relatively unheralded performers (sometimes referred to as "B actors"). The term retained its earlier suggestion that such movies relied on formulaic plots, "stock" character types, and simplistic action or unsophisticated comedy. At the same time, the realm of the B movie was becoming increasingly fertile territory for experimentation, both serious and outlandish.
Ida Lupino, a leading actress, established herself as Hollywood's sole female director of the era. In short, low-budget pictures made for her production company, The Filmakers, Lupino explored taboo subjects such as rape in 1950's "Outrage" and 1953's self-explanatory "The Bigamist". Her best known directorial effort, "The Hitch-Hiker", a 1953 RKO release, is the only film noir from the genre's classic period directed by a woman. That year, RKO released "Split Second", which concludes in a nuclear test range, and is perhaps the first "atomic noir".
The most famous such movie, the independently produced "Kiss Me Deadly" (1955), typifies the persistently murky middle ground between the A and B picture, as Richard Maltby describes: a "programmer capable of occupying either half of a neighbourhood theatre's double-bill, was budgeted at approximately $400,000. distributor, United Artists, released around twenty-five programmers with production budgets between $100,000 and $400,000 in 1955." The film's length, 106 minutes, is A level, but its star, Ralph Meeker, had previously appeared in only one major film. Its source is pure pulp, one of Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer novels, but Robert Aldrich's direction is self-consciously aestheticized. The result is a brutal genre picture that also evokes contemporary anxieties about what was often spoken of simply as the Bomb.
The fear of nuclear war with the Soviet Union, along with less expressible qualms about radioactive fallout from America's own atomic tests, energized many of the era's genre films. Science fiction, horror, and various hybrids of the two were now of central economic importance to the low-budget end of the business. Most down-market films of the type—like many of those produced by William Alland at Universal (such as "Creature from the Black Lagoon" (1954)) and Sam Katzman at Columbia (including "It Came from Beneath the Sea" (1955))—provided little more than thrills, though their special effects could be impressive.
But these were genres whose fantastic nature could also be used as cover for mordant cultural observations often difficult to make in mainstream movies. Director Don Siegel's "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" (1956), released by Allied Artists, treats conformist pressures and the evil of banality in haunting, allegorical fashion. "The Amazing Colossal Man" (1957), directed by Bert I. Gordon, is both a monster movie that happens to depict the horrific effects of radiation exposure and "a ferocious cold-war fable spins Korea, the army's obsessive secrecy, and America's post-war growth into one fantastic whole".
"The Amazing Colossal Man" was released by a new company whose name was much bigger than its budgets. American International Pictures (AIP), founded in 1956 by James H. Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff in a reorganization of their American Releasing Corporation (ARC), soon became the leading U.S. studio devoted entirely to B-cost productions. American International helped keep the original-release double bill alive through paired packages of its films: these movies were low-budget, but instead of a flat rate, they were rented out on a percentage basis, like A films.
The success of "I Was a Teenage Werewolf" (1957) thus brought AIP a large return—made for about $100,000, it grossed more than . As the film's title suggests, the studio relied on both fantastic genre subjects and new, teen-oriented angles. When "Hot Rod Gang" (1958) turned a profit, hot rod horror was given a try: "Ghost of Dragstrip Hollow" (1959). David Cook credits AIP with leading the way "in demographic exploitation, target marketing, and saturation booking, all of which became standard procedure for the majors in planning and releasing their mass-market 'event' films" by the late 1970s. In terms of content, the majors were already there, with films about juvenile delinquency such as Warner Bros.' "Untamed Youth" (1957) and MGM's "High School Confidential" (1958), both starring Mamie Van Doren.
In 1954, a young filmmaker named Roger Corman received his first screen credits as writer and associate producer of Allied Artists' "Highway Dragnet". Corman soon independently produced his first movie, "Monster from the Ocean Floor", on a $12,000 budget and a six-day shooting schedule. Among the six films he worked on in 1955, Corman produced and directed the first official ARC release, "Apache Woman", and "Day the World Ended", half of Arkoff and Nicholson's first twin-bill package. Corman directed over fifty feature films through 1990. As of 2007, he remained active as a producer, with more than 350 movies to his credit. Often referred to as the "King of the Bs", Corman has said that "to my way of thinking, I never made a 'B' movie in my life", as the traditional B movie was dying out when he began making pictures. He prefers to describe his metier as "low-budget exploitation films". In later years Corman, both with AIP and as head of his own companies, helped launch the careers of Francis Ford Coppola, Jonathan Demme, Robert Towne, and Robert De Niro, among many others.
In the late 1950s, William Castle became known as the great innovator of the B movie publicity gimmick. Audiences of "Macabre" (1958), an $86,000 production distributed by Allied Artists, were invited to take out insurance policies to cover potential death from fright. The 1959 creature feature "The Tingler" featured Castle's most famous gimmick, Percepto: at the film's climax, buzzers attached to select theater seats unexpectedly rattled a few audience members, prompting either appropriate screams or even more appropriate laughter. With such films, Castle "combine the saturation advertising campaign perfected by Columbia and Universal in their Sam Katzman and William Alland packages with centralized and standardized publicity stunts and gimmicks that had previously been the purview of the local exhibitor".
The postwar drive-in theater boom was vital to the expanding independent B movie industry. In January 1945, there were 96 drive-ins in the United States; a decade later, there were more than 3,700. Unpretentious pictures with simple, familiar plots and reliable shock effects were ideally suited for auto-based film viewing, with all its attendant distractions. The phenomenon of the drive-in movie became one of the defining symbols of American popular culture in the 1950s. At the same time, many local television stations began showing B genre films in late-night slots, popularizing the notion of the midnight movie.
Increasingly, American-made genre films were joined by foreign movies acquired at low cost and, where necessary, dubbed for the U.S. market. In 1956, distributor Joseph E. Levine financed the shooting of new footage with American actor Raymond Burr that was edited into the Japanese sci-fi horror film "Godzilla". The British Hammer Film Productions made the successful "The Curse of Frankenstein" (1957) and "Dracula" (1958), major influences on future horror film style. In 1959, Levine's Embassy Pictures bought the worldwide rights to "Hercules", a cheaply made Italian movie starring American-born bodybuilder Steve Reeves. On top of a $125,000 purchase price, Levine then spent on advertising and publicity, a virtually unprecedented amount.
"The New York Times" was not impressed, claiming that the movie would have drawn "little more than yawns in the film market ... had it not been throughout the country with a deafening barrage of publicity". Levine counted on first-weekend box office for his profits, booking the film "into as many cinemas as he could for a week's run, then withdrawing it before poor word-of-mouth withdrew it for him". "Hercules" opened at a remarkable 600 theaters, and the strategy was a smashing success: the film earned in domestic rentals. Just as valuable to the bottom line, it was even more successful overseas. Within a few decades, Hollywood was dominated by both movies and an exploitation philosophy very much like Levine's.
Also playing rounds during this time was K. Gordon Murray, known for distributing international matinee fare like the 1959 Mexican kids' movie "Santa Claus".
黄金年代的剥削.
1960年代.
Despite all the transformations in the industry, by 1961 the average production cost of an American feature film was still only —after adjusting for inflation, less than 10% more than it had been in 1950. The traditional twin bill of B film preceding and balancing a subsequent-run A film had largely disappeared from American theaters. The AIP-style dual genre package was the new model. In July 1960, the latest Joseph E. Levine sword-and-sandals import, "Hercules Unchained", opened at neighborhood theaters in New York. A suspense film, "Terror Is a Man", ran as a "co-feature" with a now familiar sort of exploitation gimmick: "The dénouement helpfully includes a 'warning bell' so the sensitive can 'close their eyes.'" That year, Roger Corman took AIP down a new road: "When they asked me to make two ten-day black-and-white horror films to play as a double feature, I convinced them instead to finance one horror film in color." The resulting "House of Usher" typifies the continuing ambiguities of B picture classification. It was clearly an A film by the standards of both director and studio, with the longest shooting schedule and biggest budget Corman had ever enjoyed. But it is generally seen as a B movie: the schedule was still a mere fifteen days, the budget just $200,000 (one tenth the industry average), and its 85-minute running time close to an old thumbnail definition of the B: "Any movie that runs less than 80 minutes."
With the loosening of industry censorship constraints, the 1960s saw a major expansion in the commercial viability of a variety of B movie subgenres that became known collectively as "exploitation films". The combination of intensive and gimmick-laden publicity with movies featuring vulgar subject matter and often outrageous imagery dated back decades—the term had originally defined truly fringe productions, made at the lowest depths of Poverty Row or entirely outside the Hollywood system. Many graphically depicted the wages of sin in the context of promoting prudent lifestyle choices, particularly "sexual hygiene". Audiences might see explicit footage of anything from a live birth to a ritual circumcision. Such films were not generally booked as part of movie theaters' regular schedules but rather presented as special events by traveling roadshow promoters (they might also appear as fodder for "grindhouses", which typically had no regular schedule at all). The most famous of those promoters, Kroger Babb, was in the vanguard of marketing low-budget, sensationalistic films with a "100% saturation campaign", inundating the target audience with ads in almost any imaginable medium. In the era of the traditional double feature, no one would have characterized these graphic exploitation films as "B movies". With the majors having exited traditional B production and exploitation-style promotion becoming standard practice at the lower end of the industry, "exploitation" became a way to refer to the entire field of low-budget genre films. The 1960s saw exploitation-style themes and imagery become increasingly central to the realm of the B.
Exploitation movies in the original sense continued to appear: 1961's "Damaged Goods", a cautionary tale about a young lady whose boyfriend's promiscuity leads to venereal disease, comes complete with enormous, grotesque closeups of VD's physical effects. At the same time, the concept of fringe exploitation was merging with a related, similarly venerable tradition: "nudie" films featuring nudist-camp footage or striptease artists like Bettie Page had simply been the softcore pornography of previous decades. As far back as 1933, "This Nude World" was "Guaranteed the Most Educational Film Ever Produced!" In the late 1950s, as more of the old grindhouse theaters devoted themselves specifically to "adult" product, a few filmmakers began making nudies with greater attention to plot. Best known was Russ Meyer, who released his first successful narrative nudie, the comic "Immoral Mr. Teas", in 1959. Five years later, Meyer came out with his breakthrough film, "Lorna", which combined sex, violence, and a dramatic storyline. "Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!" (1965), made for about $45,000, ultimately became the most famous of Meyer's sexploitation pictures. Crafted for constant titillation but containing no nudity, it was aimed at the same "passion pit" drive-in circuit that screened AIP teen movies with wink-wink titles like "Beach Blanket Bingo" (1965) and "How to Stuff a Wild Bikini" (1966), starring Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon. Roger Corman's "The Trip" (1967) for American International, written by veteran AIP/Corman actor Jack Nicholson, never shows a fully bared, unpainted breast, but flirts with nudity throughout. The Meyer and Corman lines were drawing closer.
One of the most influential films of the era, on Bs and beyond, was Paramount's "Psycho". Its in earnings against a production cost of $800,000 made it the most profitable movie of 1960. Its mainstream distribution without the Production Code seal of approval helped weaken U.S. film censorship. And, as William Paul notes, this move into the horror genre by respected director Alfred Hitchcock was made, "significantly, with the lowest-budgeted film of his American career and the least glamorous stars. greatest initial impact ... was on schlock horror movies (notably those from second-tier director William Castle), each of which tried to bill itself as scarier than "Psycho"." Castle's first film in the "Psycho" vein was "Homicidal" (1961), an early step in the development of the slasher subgenre that took off in the late 1970s. "Blood Feast" (1963), a movie about human dismemberment and culinary preparation made for approximately $24,000 by experienced nudie-maker Herschell Gordon Lewis, established a new, more immediately successful subgenre, the gore or splatter film. Lewis's business partner David F. Friedman drummed up publicity by distributing vomit bags to theatergoers—the sort of gimmick Castle had mastered—and arranging for an injunction against the film in Sarasota, Florida—the sort of problem exploitation films had long run up against, except Friedman had planned it. This new breed of gross-out movie typified the emerging sense of "exploitation"—the progressive adoption of traditional exploitation and nudie elements into horror, into other classic B genres, and into the low-budget film industry as a whole. Imports of Hammer Film's increasingly explicit horror movies and Italian gialli, highly stylized pictures mixing sexploitation and ultraviolence, fueled this trend.
The Production Code was officially scrapped in 1968, to be replaced by the first version of the modern rating system. That year, two horror films came out that heralded directions American cinema would take in the next decade, with major consequences for the B movie. One was a high-budget Paramount production, directed by the celebrated Roman Polanski. Produced by B horror veteran William Castle, "Rosemary's Baby" was the first upscale Hollywood picture in the genre in three decades. It was a critical success and the year's seventh-biggest hit. The other was George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead", produced on weekends in and around Pittsburgh for $114,000. Building on the achievement of B genre predecessors like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" in its subtextual exploration of social and political issues, it doubled as a highly effective thriller and an incisive allegory for both the Vietnam War and domestic racial conflicts. Its greatest influence, though, derived from its clever subversion of genre clichés and the connection made between its exploitation-style imagery, low-cost, truly independent means of production, and high profitability. With the Code gone and the X rating established, major studio A films like "Midnight Cowboy" could now show "adult" imagery, while the market for increasingly hardcore pornography exploded. In this transformed commercial context, work like Russ Meyer's gained a new legitimacy. In 1969, for the first time a Meyer film, "Finders Keepers, Lovers Weepers!", was reviewed in "The New York Times". Soon, Corman was creating nudity-filled sexploitation pictures such as "Private Duty Nurses" (1971) and "Women in Cages" (1971).
In May 1969, the most important exploitation movie of the era premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. Much of "Easy Rider"s significance owes to the fact that it was produced for a respectable, if still modest, budget and released by a major studio. The project was first taken by one of its cocreators, Peter Fonda, to American International. Fonda had become AIP's top star in the Corman-directed "The Wild Angels" (1966), a biker movie, and "The Trip", as in taking LSD. The idea Fonda pitched combined those two proven themes. AIP was intrigued but balked at giving his collaborator, Dennis Hopper, also a studio alumnus, free directorial rein. Eventually they arranged a financing and distribution deal with Columbia, as two more graduates of the Corman/AIP exploitation mill joined the project: Jack Nicholson and cinematographer László Kovács. The film (which incorporated another favorite exploitation theme, the redneck menace, as well as a fair amount of nudity) was brought in at a cost of $501,000. It earned in rentals. In the words of historians Seth Cagin and Philip Dray, "Easy Rider" became "the seminal film that provided the bridge between all the repressed tendencies represented by schlock/kitsch/hack since the dawn of Hollywood and the mainstream cinema of the seventies."
1970年代.
In the late 1960s and early 1970s, a new generation of low-budget film companies emerged that drew from all the different lines of exploitation as well as the sci-fi and teen themes that had been a mainstay since the 1950s. Operations such as Roger Corman's New World Pictures, Cannon Films, and New Line Cinema brought exploitation films to mainstream theaters around the country. The major studios' top product was continuing to inflate in running time—in 1970, the ten biggest earners averaged 140.1 minutes. The Bs were keeping pace. In 1955, Corman had a producorial hand in five movies averaging 74.8 minutes. He played a similar part in five films originally released in 1970, two for AIP and three for his own New World: the average length was 89.8 minutes. These films could turn a tidy profit. The first New World release, the biker movie "Angels Die Hard", cost $117,000 to produce and took in more than at the box office.
The biggest studio in the low-budget field remained a leader in exploitation's growth. In 1973, American International gave a shot to young director Brian De Palma. Reviewing "Sisters", Pauline Kael observed that its "limp technique doesn't seem to matter to the people who want their gratuitous gore. ... e can't get two people talking in order to make a simple expository point without its sounding like the drabbest Republic picture of 1938." Many examples of the blaxploitation genre, featuring stereotype-filled stories about African Americans and revolving around drugs, violent crime, and prostitution, were the product of AIP. One of blaxploitation's biggest stars was Pam Grier, who began her film career with a bit part in Russ Meyer's "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" (1970). Several New World pictures followed, including "The Big Doll House" (1971) and "The Big Bird Cage" (1972), both directed by Jack Hill. Hill also directed Grier's best-known performances, in two AIP blaxploitation films: "Coffy" (1973) and "Foxy Brown" (1974).
Blaxploitation was the first exploitation genre in which the major studios were central. Indeed, the United Artists release "Cotton Comes to Harlem" (1970), directed by Ossie Davis, is seen as the first significant film of the type. But the movie that truly ignited the blaxploitation phenomenon was completely independent: "Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song" (1971) is also perhaps the most outrageous example of the form: wildly experimental, borderline pornographic, and essentially a manifesto for an African American revolution. Melvin Van Peebles wrote, co-produced, directed, starred in, edited, and composed the music for the film, which was completed with a loan from Bill Cosby. Its distributor was small Cinemation Industries, then best known for releasing dubbed versions of the Italian "Mondo Cane" "shockumentaries" and the Swedish skin flick "Fanny Hill", as well as for its one in-house production, "The Man from O.R.G.Y." (1970). These sorts of films played in the "grindhouses" of the day—many of them not outright porno theaters, but rather venues for all manner of exploitation cinema. The days of six quickies for a nickel were gone, but a continuity of spirit was evident.
In 1970, a low-budget crime drama shot in 16 mm by first-time American director Barbara Loden won the international critics' prize at the Venice Film Festival. "Wanda" is both a seminal event in the independent film movement and a classic B picture. The crime-based plot and often seedy settings would have suited a straightforward exploitation film or an old-school B noir. The $115,000 production, for which Loden spent six years raising money, was praised by Vincent Canby for "the absolute accuracy of its effects, the decency of its point of view and ... purity of technique". Like Romero and Van Peebles, other filmmakers of the era made pictures that combined the gut-level entertainment of exploitation with biting social commentary. The first three features directed by Larry Cohen, "Bone" (1972), "Black Caesar" (1973), and "Hell Up in Harlem" (1973), were all nominally blaxploitation movies, but Cohen used them as vehicles for a satirical examination of race relations and the wages of dog-eat-dog capitalism. The gory horror film "Deathdream" (1974), directed by Bob Clark, is also an agonized protest of the war in Vietnam. Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg made serious-minded low-budget horror films whose implications are not so much ideological as psychological and existential: "Shivers" (1975), "Rabid" (1977), "The Brood" (1979). An "Easy Rider" with conceptual rigor, the movie that most clearly presaged the way in which exploitation content and artistic treatment would be combined in modestly budgeted films of later years was United Artists' biker-themed "Electra Glide in Blue" (1973), directed by James William Guercio. "The New York Times" reviewer thought little of it: "Under different intentions, it might have made a decent grade-C Roger Corman bike movie—though Corman has generally used more interesting directors than Guercio."
In the early 1970s, the growing practice of screening nonmainstream motion pictures as late shows, with the goal of building a cult film audience, brought the midnight movie concept home to the cinema, now in a countercultural setting—something like a drive-in movie for the hip. One of the first films adopted by the new circuit in 1971 was the three-year-old "Night of the Living Dead". The midnight movie success of low-budget pictures made entirely outside the studio system, like John Waters' "Pink Flamingos" (1972), with its campy spin on exploitation, spurred the development of the independent film movement. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" (1975), an inexpensive film from 20th Century Fox that spoofed all manner of classic B picture clichés, became an unparalleled hit when it was relaunched as a late show feature the year after its initial, unprofitable release. Even as "Rocky Horror" generated its own subcultural phenomenon, it contributed to the mainstreaming of the theatrical midnight movie.
Asian martial arts films began appearing as imports regularly during the 1970s. These "kung fu" films as they were often called, whatever martial art they featured, were popularized in the United States by the Hong Kong–produced movies of Bruce Lee and marketed to the same audience targeted by AIP and New World. Horror continued to attract young, independent American directors. As Roger Ebert explained in one 1974 review, "Horror and exploitation films almost always turn a profit if they're brought in at the right price. So they provide a good starting place for ambitious would-be filmmakers who can't get more conventional projects off the ground." The movie under consideration was "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre". Made by Tobe Hooper for less than $300,000, it became one of the most influential horror films of the 1970s. John Carpenter's "Halloween" (1978), produced on a $320,000 budget, grossed over worldwide and effectively established the slasher flick as horror's primary mode for the next decade. Just as Hooper had learned from Romero's work, "Halloween", in turn, largely followed the model of "Black Christmas" (1974), directed by "Deathdream"s Bob Clark.
On television, the parallels between the weekly series that became the mainstay of prime-time programming and the Hollywood series films of an earlier day had long been clear. In the 1970s, original feature-length programming increasingly began to echo the B movie as well. As production of TV movies expanded with the introduction of the "ABC Movie of the Week" in 1969, soon followed by the dedication of other network slots to original features, time and financial factors shifted the medium progressively into B picture territory. Television films inspired by recent scandals—such as "The Ordeal of Patty Hearst", which premiered a month after her release from prison in 1979—harkened all the way back to the 1920s and such movies as "Human Wreckage" and "When Love Grows Cold", FBO pictures made swiftly in the wake of celebrity misfortunes. Many 1970s TV films—such as "The California Kid" (1974), starring Martin Sheen—were action-oriented genre pictures of a type familiar from contemporary cinematic B production. "Nightmare in Badham County" (1976) headed straight into the realm of road-tripping-girls-in-redneck-bondage exploitation.
The reverberations of "Easy Rider" could be felt in such pictures, as well as in a host of theatrical exploitation films. But its greatest influence on the fate of the B movie was less direct—by 1973, the major studios were catching on to the commercial potential of genres once largely consigned to the bargain basement. "Rosemary's Baby" had been a big hit, but it had little in common with the exploitation style. Warner Bros.' "The Exorcist" demonstrated that a heavily promoted horror film could be an absolute blockbuster: it was the biggest movie of the year and by far the highest-earning horror movie yet made. In William Paul's description, it is also "the film that really established gross-out as a mode of expression for mainstream cinema. ... ast exploitation films managed to exploit their cruelties by virtue of their marginality. "The Exorcist" made cruelty respectable. By the end of the decade, the exploitation booking strategy of opening films simultaneously in hundreds to thousands of theaters became standard industry practice." Writer-director George Lucas's "American Graffiti", a Universal production, did something similar. Described by Paul as "essentially an American-International teenybopper pic with a lot more spit and polish", it was 1973's third-biggest film and, likewise, by far the highest-earning teen-themed movie yet made. Even more historically significant movies with B themes and A-level financial backing followed in their wake.
衰落.
1980年代.
Most of the B-movie production houses founded during the exploitation era collapsed or were subsumed by larger companies as the field's financial situation changed in the early 1980s. Even a comparatively cheap, efficiently made genre picture intended for theatrical release began to cost millions of dollars, as the major movie studios steadily moved into the production of expensive genre movies, raising audience expectations for spectacular action sequences and realistic special effects. Intimations of the trend were evident as early as "Airport" (1970) and especially in the mega-schlock of "The Poseidon Adventure" (1972), "Earthquake" (1973), and "The Towering Inferno" (1974). Their disaster plots and dialogue were B-grade at best; from an industry perspective, however, these were pictures firmly rooted in a tradition of star-stuffed extravaganzas. "The Exorcist" had demonstrated the drawing power of big-budget, effects-laden horror. But the tidal shift in the majors' focus owed largely to the enormous success of three films: Steven Spielberg's creature feature "Jaws" (1975) and George Lucas's space opera "Star Wars" (1977) had each, in turn, become the highest-grossing film in motion picture history. "Superman", released in December 1978, had proved that a studio could spend on a movie about a children's comic book character and turn a big profit—it was the top box-office hit of 1978. Blockbuster fantasy spectacles like the original 1933 "King Kong" had once been exceptional; in the new Hollywood, increasingly under the sway of multi-industrial conglomerates, they ruled.
It had taken a decade and a half, from 1961 to 1976, for the production cost of the average Hollywood feature to double from $2 million to $4 million—a decline if adjusted for inflation. In just four years it more than doubled again, hitting $8.5 million in 1980 (a constant-dollar increase of about 25%). Even as the U.S. inflation rate eased, the average expense of moviemaking continued to soar. With the majors now routinely saturation booking in over a thousand theaters, it was becoming increasingly difficult for smaller outfits to secure the exhibition commitments needed to turn a profit. Double features were now literally history—almost impossible to find except at revival houses. One of the first leading casualties of the new economic regime was venerable B studio Allied Artists, which declared bankruptcy in April 1979. In the late 1970s, AIP had turned to producing relatively expensive films like the very successful "Amityville Horror" and the disastrous "Meteor" in 1979. The studio was sold off and dissolved as a moviemaking concern by the end of 1980.
Despite the mounting financial pressures, distribution obstacles, and overall risk, many genre movies from small studios and independent filmmakers were still reaching theaters. Horror was the strongest low-budget genre of the time, particularly in the slasher mode as with "The Slumber Party Massacre" (1982), written by feminist author Rita Mae Brown. The film was produced for New World on a budget of $250,000. At the beginning of 1983, Corman sold New World; New Horizons, later Concorde–New Horizons, became his primary company. In 1984, New Horizons released a critically applauded movie set amid the punk scene written and directed by Penelope Spheeris. "The New York Times" review concluded: ""Suburbia" is a good genre film."
Larry Cohen continued to twist genre conventions in pictures such as "Q" (a.k.a. "Q: The Winged Serpent"; 1982), described by critic Chris Petit as "the kind of movie that used to be indispensable to the market: an imaginative, popular, low-budget picture that makes the most of its limited resources, and in which people get on with the job instead of standing around talking about it". In 1981, New Line put out "Polyester", a John Waters movie with a small budget and an old-school exploitation gimmick: Odorama. That October "The Book of the Dead", a gore-filled yet stylish horror movie made for less than $400,000, debuted in Detroit. Its writer, director, and co-executive producer, Sam Raimi, was a week shy of his twenty-second birthday; star and co-executive producer Bruce Campbell was twenty-three. It was picked up for distribution by New Line, retitled "The Evil Dead", and became a hit. In the words of one newspaper critic, it was a "shoestring "tour de force"".
One of the most successful 1980s B studios was a survivor from the heyday of the exploitation era, Troma Pictures, founded in 1974. Troma's most characteristic productions, including "Class of Nuke 'Em High" (1986), "Redneck Zombies" (1986), and "Surf Nazis Must Die" (1987), take exploitation for an absurdist spin. Troma's best-known production is "The Toxic Avenger" (1984); it's hideous hero, affectionately known as Toxie, was featured in three sequels, an upcoming reboot and a TV cartoon series. One of the few successful B studio startups of the decade was Rome-based Empire Pictures, whose first production, "Ghoulies", reached theaters in 1985. The video rental market was becoming central to B film economics: Empire's financial model relied on seeing a profit not from theatrical rentals, but only later, at the video store. A number of Concorde–New Horizon releases went this route as well, appearing only briefly in theaters, if at all. The growth of the cable television industry also helped support the low-budget film industry, as many B movies quickly wound up as "filler" material for 24-hour cable channels or were made expressly for that purpose.
1990年代.
到了1990年，美国电影的平均成本已超过2500万美元。当年上映的九部美国票房收入超过1亿美元的电影中，有两部在1970年代后期之前严格来说属于B级片：《忍者龟》和《狄克崔西》。另外三部——科幻惊悚片《魔鬼总动员》、充满动作的警匪惊悚片《终极警探2》和当年最受欢迎的儿童喜剧《小鬼当家》——也更接近传统的B级片，而非经典的A级片主题。家庭电影的日益普及、有线电视和卫星电视上得以收看未经剪辑的电影、以及与日俱增的房地产压力，使得作为独立电影主要发源地的那种小型或非连锁影院的生存更加困难。汽车戏院也迅速从美国景观中消失。
幸存的B电影以各种方式适应著。特罗马娱乐制作的电影现在经常直接跳过院线发行。新线影业在成立最初十年中，几乎完全是低成本独立电影和外国类型片的分销商；随著剥削片老手卫斯·克莱文原创的《半夜鬼上床》（1984）取得巨大成功（新线影业直接投入近200万美元的成本），该公司开始稳步转向更高预算的类型片制作。1994年，新线影业被出售给透纳广播公司；它很快成为一个中型工作室，并与华纳兄弟一起在时代华纳集团内运营。次年，Showtime电视网推出了《》，这是由制作的13部有线电视首映系列电影。《纽约时报》的一位评论家发现，一开始的作品被称为“复古的科曼...从裸露的女性乳房到令人兴奋的汤玛斯·曼在《魂断威尼斯》的引述都含在内”。
在放映B级片的戏院消失的同时，独立电影运动兴起；结果就是低预算类型电影和“精致”艺术电影之间的各种交叉。导演阿贝尔·费拉拉以暴力B级片（如《》（1979）和《》（1981））闻名，他在90年代初拍了两部电影，将剥削电影常见的性、毒品和一般猥亵描写与对荣誉和救赎的复杂审查相结合：《》（1990）得到了一群主要为小型制作公司的支持，《》（1992）的180万美元成本则完全独立出资。的小预算怪兽电影，如《No Telling》（1991）和《》（1997），分别重构经典类型主题——科学怪人和吸血鬼——以探索与当代相关的议题。大卫·柯能堡的《》（1996）预算为1000万美元，虽然不算A级，但也算不上B级。这部电影的意像是另一回事：“大卫·柯能堡的《》在其令人震惊的表面上暗示了剥削片最令人不安的病态”评论家写道。如同《》由一个制作公司财团资助，它由在美国发行。此结果反映了电影对定义的混乱：是新线影业的子公司，最近并入华纳媒体——具体来说，它是旧剥削片发行商的艺术部门。由昆汀·塔伦提诺以850万美元预算执导的《黑色追缉令》（1994），借由成为极具影响力的大片，正如詹姆斯·莫特拉姆（James Mottram）所描述：“凭借其实验电影的叙事结构、B级片主题和好莱坞演员阵容，这部电影是三种不同电影传统相交的轴心。”
21世纪以降的转型.
到千禧年之际，制作一部美国电影已平均需耗时三年并花费超过5000万美元成本。2005年，美国票房前十的电影中，包含三部改编自儿童奇幻小说、一部延续及一部开启系列电影（分别是《哈利波特：火杯的考验》和《纳尼亚传奇：狮子·女巫·魔衣橱》）、儿童动画片（《马达加斯加》）、漫改电影（《蝙蝠侠：开战时刻》）、科幻系列电影续集（《星际大战三部曲：西斯大帝的复仇》）、科幻改编电影（《世界大战》），以及翻拍电影《金刚》。对科曼来说，这是漫长的一年：他只制作了一部电影，还没有在美国上映，而过去十年他参与的大多数电影亦是如此。随著高成本制作的好莱坞电影进一步取代传统低预算类型片，B级片品牌的生存能力受到严重质疑。《纽约时报》评论家警告说，B级片的“俗气、野蛮、罪恶的乐趣”即将“灭绝”。
另一方面，最近的行业趋势表明，传统的“A-B分裂”在主要工作室的制作中重新出现，尽管有更少的“程式设计师”弥合差距。根据行业分析师阿方索·马龙2006年的一份报告，“目前好莱坞电影的平均预算约为6000万美元，如果将国内上映的行销成本（仅限美国）考虑在内，则上升到1亿美元。然而，我们现在正在目睹电影预算两极分化成两个层次：大型制作（1.2到1.5亿美元）和小众电影（500到2000万美元）。……预计制作成本3000到7000万美元的电影发行量将减少。”福斯于2006年成立了一个新的子公司——福斯原子能（Fox Atomic），专注于青少年面向的类型片。经济模式为刻意的低成本，至少按照主要工作室的标准。根据《综艺》的一份报告，“福斯原子能的许多电影预算都保持在不高于1000万美元。它还鼓励电影制作人以数位方式拍摄——这是一种更便宜的流程，能产生更坚韧、更适合青少年的结果。并忘记明星。福斯原子能公布的九部电影中，没有一部是鼎鼎大名的”。新奇的B级片部门于2009年关闭。
正如《综艺》的报导，近来的技术进步大大促进真正低预算电影的制作。虽然拍摄电影一直有经济实惠的方式，包括超8毫米和底片，以及录制到模拟-{zh-tw:录影带;zh-cn:录像带;}-上的-{zh-tw:摄影机;zh-cn:摄像机}-，但都无法与35毫米胶片的画面品质相媲美。如今数位相机和后制技术的发展，使电影制作者即便低预算也能作出亮眼的、而非必然“蒙上一层灰”的画面品质与剪辑效果的电影。正如马龙观察到的，“数位拍摄所需的设备预算（摄影机、技术）大约为胶片的1/10，大大降低独立电影的制作预算。同时，（自2000年代初）数位电影的制作已显著改善。”独立电影制作人，不论拍摄类型电影还是艺术追求，发现尽管数位端对端的发行方法提供了新的机会，依然很难进入发行管道。以类似的方式，YouTube等网站为展示低预算电影开辟了全新途径。
同样地，从2000年起，-{zh-tw:电脑;zh-cn:计算机;}-影像技术的加速和应用以前所未有的速度持续著。这有助于做出以传统手法成本过高的效果，特别是某些电影类型，例如使用越来越多CGI的灾难片或怪兽电影。因此，这一趋势刺激了面向大众的B级片的增长。在这种情况下，疯人院影业等电影公司或Syfy等频道齐心协力开发B级片，有些公司甚至将此类电影作为其商业模式的关键部分。然而，许多此类电影的制作通常是为了利用更成熟的功能的成功。 此外，这一新方向同样获得罗杰·科曼和吉姆·怀诺斯基等资深B级片制片人的参与。
衍生术语.
C级片及更常见的Z级片指涉B级片里逐渐降低的等级。与特定历史现象相关的“汽车电影”和“”这两个术语现在常被视为B级片的同义词。
C级片.
C级片指品质比B级片更差的电影类型；在某些电影分类法中，C级片指仅次于B级片的低等电影类型。1980年代，随有线电视兴起，C级片渐渐被视为低品质类型电影的代名词，而这些电影大多进入有线电视市场。此后，C级片中的“C”有了双重含义：一方面指该类影片品质低于B级片，另一方面指有线电视英语“Cable Television”的首字母。电视剧《》（1988-99）C级片的概念家喻户晓，该剧第一年就在全国有线频道播出（先是Comedy Central频道，然后是Syfy频道）。该剧更新了电视女主持人30多年前提出的概念，展示廉价、低等级的电影，主要是1950年代和1960年代的科幻题材及点出电影缺陷的配音评论。导演艾德·伍德在这个意义上被称为“C级片大师”，尽管Z级片可能更适用于他的作品。1990年代和2000年代，诸如Sci Fi（及其Sci Fi Pictures制片公司）和 HBO的类型节目频道等利基有线和卫星频道的迅速扩张，意味著当代C级片的市场，其中许多是直接在有线电视发行的电影——低预算类型电影从未在戏院上映。
Z级片.
Z级片被用来描述品质远低于大多数B级片甚至C级片的低预算电影。大多数被称为Z级片的电影都是由电影界的边缘运营商以极低预算制作的。1930年代制作的微预算电影被认为可能是Z级片的前卫。导演艾德·伍德的电影，例如《忽男忽女》（1953）和《外太空九号计划》（1959）——后者经常被认为是——是经典Z级片的例子。后来的Z级片往往以暴力、血腥或色情内容为主打特色，几乎没有艺术追求，使得其中多数电影注定只能收费频道上发行。
精神病电影.
精神病电影是影评人迈克尔·J·韦尔登创造的术语——他被同行影评人称为“边缘电影历史学家”——代表那些常被评论机构鄙视或完全忽略的低成本类型片。该词源于1980年的芝加哥邪典电影《》，该片主角为理发师，他开发了以精神能量杀人的能力。根据韦尔登的说法，“我一开始对这个词的想法是它是由两个部分组成的词。‘Psycho’代表恐怖电影，而‘tronic’代表科幻电影。我很快地将这个词的含义延伸为包括任何形式的剥削电影或B级片。”该词在1980年代开始流行，随著韦尔登的著作相继出版，如《精神病电影百科全书》、《精神病影片指南》和《》杂志，该词陆续被粉丝和其他评论家引用。若遇到能作为坎普风欣赏的B级片，通常会以此术语强调对这些电影的关注与喜爱。
B级剧.
B级剧是德国媒体学者在她的文章《从真、善、美到真正美的商品》（"From the True, the Good, the Beautiful to the Truly Beautiful Goods"）中使用的术语——德国“B-Television”节目的观众识别策略，用B级片来比喻德国商业电视的发展，采用“广告美学”、“每个参与者都散发著空虚的积极性，包含剪辑、柔焦和朗朗上口的音乐”，以及“通过置入性行销宣传商品”。舒马赫指出，在1984年放松管制后，德国公共电视正要从巅峰滑落并逐渐被边缘化，而新成立且在没有社会合法性负担的情况下运营的商业电视台只关注盈利能力。为了建立和维持观众的忠诚度，这些电视台播放真人秀、耸动新闻、每日肥皂剧、资讯娱乐节目、脱口秀、游戏节目和软调色情片。舒马赫还在文中提及美国文化评论家尼尔·波兹曼的著作《娱乐至死》，作者将电视节目比喻为广告衍生品，并会形成“一种应被假讯息的讯息——错置、无关、破碎或肤浅的讯息让人以为自己懂了，实际上却更加不懂”。
与波兹曼一样，舒马赫指出，当代电视广告通常是为了加强品牌忠诚度而非宣传产品。电视广播公司使用这种逆向行销方法来宣传电视台自己。舒马赫列举三大具体原则：博观众眼球、使观众共情及抓住观众胃口来作为争取市占率的基石。RTL电视台以正面的方式描述建立观众忠诚度：“RTL为电视发现一个新东西：观众”。
舒马赫认为，观众忠诚度主要透过对熟悉的情感经历及观众日常的问题来建立，这意味著私人电视台主要播放私人的内容。这种方法的进一步发展促成真人秀问世，这类节目通过直接干预参与者实际生活来创造现实。用理查德·森尼特的话来说，这种电视节目的个性化和戏剧化促成了“公众人物的堕落”。
通过情感感受建立观众忠诚度的策略反映在可耻的“特别新闻”中，即“偏爱性和犯罪主题，采用高度情绪化的评论风格、剪辑美学及从犯罪片学来的配乐”。例如，舒马赫提到了《》，一个关于人类性行为的脱口秀，在1990年代由NBC一周播五次。“标题本身包含了‘B级剧’的讯息：真实的人和他们‘真实’的问题是这里的焦点”舒马赫认为。
提到大卫·莱特曼和杰·雷诺非常成功的娱乐节目，舒马赫宣称，每天在电视上看到脱口秀主持人几乎成为家庭的一部分。“不仅散播虚无，还散播安全感”，主持人“提供我们日常生活一块固定的部分”以及每日肥皂剧、每日资讯娱乐节目或每日游戏节目。
“吸引观众情绪和消费者的积极参与强化了‘B级剧’开拓市场的能力”舒马赫总结道。
来自《》的埃瑞克·亨利克森在评论电视剧《》时用“B级剧”这个词来描述那种不是“真的很棒”而是“刚好起作用的节目——尽管以有些尴尬且愚蠢的方式——成功娱乐观众，一周又一周地沿用相同角色，制作的模板情节拥有足够原创性与独特性来使它们变有趣并能分散注意力。”