Generally, you notice a B flick immediately. You measure it when after glancing over the cast, you realize you don’t recognize any of them — seriously deficient of star power. But this does not diminish their beauty. You know you will never remember those faces after you watch the movie, and the sole reason for their existence is to die, one by one, gruesome and violent deaths. The kind that make you screech — well, that’s what they’re supposed to do, but they make you laugh instead. There’s nothing like a good laugh, after all. And a bit of a chill, which they provide. Caricatures, essentially.
There are exceptions, of course. That Bruce guy in that classic horror flick, the name of which I cannot remember right now. But that guy is famous. And his face is immediately recognizable for a role in a flick where strange spirits occupied their friend’s bodies, ghoulish things emerged from them. Bruce, something. Damn.