For mysterious reasons that will forever remain lost to history, Tarantino never demanded official credit for co-writing It's Pat, which he did in the first place because he was friends with the character's creator, Julia Sweeney. This pretty much makes Tarantino the greatest friend in the history of ever. The extent of our friendship involves maybe lending our friends $20 if they put their firstborn as collateral. Tarantino, on the other hand, is the type of friend who helps you write a movie where a sexually ambiguous Julia Sweeney romances an even sexually ambiguer Dave Foley.

Hot.

But it was made by ...

Leonard Nimoy, aka Spock. With all due respect to the man whose acting career has spanned 60 years, Nimoy is and always will be Star Trek's Spock, the pointy-eared space Buddhist and object of frankly a disturbing amount of homoerotic fanfiction. Three Men and a Baby was directed by none other than Nimoy right after he came off shooting his Star Trek IV, which we can't imagine being a smooth transition.

Originally titled Anthropological Studies of Earth's Single Males Faced With Forced Fatherhood.

Before you start worrying that we no longer can tell reality from fiction, it's not like we think Nimoy really is the calculating, emotionless Spock. We know it, because the man admitted himself that the role has greatly influenced his character and personality over the years. But now, in light of that, we don't know what to think about the fact that Three Men and a Baby was the highest-grossing production of '87 and the most successful remake of a French film in movie history.

But it was made by ...

Wes Craven, creator of some of the most iconic horror films in history. Most notably, Wes Craven is the dark, twisted mind behind A Nightmare on Elm Street, a story about a sadistic dream demon who murders a bunch of teenagers because their parents burned him alive. So ... not exactly a bundle of kittens and sunshine.

GettyAlthough really, it depends on how you combine the kittens and the sunshine.

To this day, Music of the Heart remains Wes Craven's only full-length non-horror/thriller movie, and nobody knows why. In 1999, Craven was still riding high on the success of the Scream films, so even if he was fighting a crippling addiction to albino rhino blood, it couldn't have been about the money. Roger Ebert suggested that with this film, Craven tried to break out of the "horror guy" typecast and start doing other stuff, which totally explains why he later went straight back to horror and never left. Only, you know, not.

Getty"Sorry."

A lot of the film is dedicated to themes like coping with the loss of your loved ones and eternal damnation, as two characters are dragged to hell at the end of the movie.

Damn you, pre-CGI era cartoon demon hands!

But it was made by ...

Jerry Zucker -- who is famous for being one of the Zs in ZAZ (Zucker, Abrahams, Zucker), a trio of filmmakers responsible for every major slapstick comedy in the 80s and 90s. Zucker's credits in particular include directing Airplane! (which launched Leslie Nielsen's comedy career and the misconception that quoting a funny movie makes you funny) as well as writing all of the Naked Gun films. The man has spent his entire career making us laugh at other people's suffering.

Hilarious!

Ghost wasn't Zucker's only "serious" movie. In 1995 he also directed First Knight, a story of the struggle between love and loyalty set in medieval Europe, sandwiched between Naked Gun 33 1/3 and Rat Race like fine caviar between two slices of Wonder Bread. But what makes Ghost stand out is how insanely successful it was. The movie is mostly remembered today through parodies, but what we tend to forget is that Jerry Zucker's Ghost has made more money than all of his other films combined.

Happy Feet is also a kid's film starring talking animals -- this one specifically a CGI-animated flick about a tap-dancing penguin shunned by his community because he cannot sing show tunes. Nothing too dark there, right?

But it was made by ...

More or less the father of the post-apocalyptic action movie genre. From 1979 to 1985, George Miller directed, wrote and produced all three Mad Max movies, which to this day remain the most accurate portrayal of Australia in movie history. Amid completing his brutal, post-apocalyptic trilogy starring Mel Gibson, Miller's other major directing credit was a segment of the 1983 Twilight Zone movie.

This one.

At least the Babe movies -- despite featuring a sheep herding pig getting into all sorts of shenanigans -- had their darker, more mature moments.

Seriously, it's a pretty scary place.

Still, with George Miller, you sort of expect "dark / mature" to be more ... well, this:

"Just walk away, pig. Just walk away."

The origin of Happy Feet goes all the way back to the production of The Road Warrior. It was then that Miller had a chat with a grizzled old cameraman named Billy Grimmond who had just come back from shooting a documentary in Antarctica. Grimmond sold Miller on the idea that the South Pole is this spectacular, badass wasteland that should totally be in a movie someday, presumably of the explody-shooty variety.

See, George Miller? Badass Antarctica.* *We know. Let it go.

Twenty-five years later, Miller went with it and gave us Elijah Wood voicing a flightless bird. You figure it out.

The story behind Babe is even more disheartening. The movie premiered in 1995 but was the product of a 10-year "labor of love" by Miller, which means that when he was filming this ...

... he was secretly thinking about this ...

But it was made by ...

M. Night Shyamalan, famous for The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable, some nonsense about Marky Mark talking to plastic plants, the overused "twist ending" gimmick and, subsequently, flushing a promising filmmaking career down the toilet. The toilet then turned out to exist only in the mind of ghost child aboard a spaceship or something.

GettyEven his career had a stupid twist.

Shyamalan wrote Stuart Little's screenplay and somehow didn't have the ending reveal that the entire cast had been zombies the entire time. It's just a straight-up family film, which makes you wonder why Disney got Shyamalan to write the screenplay for it. And he didn't even follow the book, changing a lot of the original novel, in which Stuart is a mouse actually born (not adopted) to real human parents.

Because WHAT THE FUCK?

Well, OK, it might not be that hard to explain. Before 1999, the only major directing work Shyamalan had done was Wide Awake, a tremendous box-office bomb co-starring Denis Leary. We're pretty sure that making a bad movie with Denis Leary must be like the filmmaking equivalent of exposing yourself in front of a nursery. At the time, Shyamalan would have probably gotten onboard a Stuart Little porn spoof if it meant staying in the Hollywood game. In the end, his perseverance paid off when his next project, The Sixth Sense, proved to be a massive hit, and Shyamalan went on to become the butt of every movie joke on the planet.

Even if you don't remember this 1967 James Bond movie, you'd instantly recognize it because it has been copied and parodied by every spy film in history. Some of its most iconic elements include Connery's Bond stopping a rocket launch, a secret lair hidden inside a volcano and a greater focus on Bond's gadgets.

"How am I firing thish gun, you ashk?"

But it was made by ...

Roald Dahl, who wrote the screenplay. If that name sounds vaguely familiar, it's because Dahl is the guy responsible for writing your entire childhood. His literary works include such classics as James and the Giant Peach, Matilda, Fantastic Mr. Fox and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In the 1960s, Dahl also briefly went into scriptwriting, applying his signature dark yet kid-friendly style to, for example, the 1968 family film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

You know, the family film with the dick-nosed creep who kidnaps and murders children?

The reason why Dahl was hired to write the movie (despite having no experience with scriptwriting) was because it just so happened that he and Ian Fleming were close friends. So naturally, Dahl's first step was to throw out almost the entire plot of the You Only Live Twice novel and just do his own thing with the script (which, in his defense, did include ninjas).

Ninjas wielding assault rifles.

The movie turned out to be a huge success, both financially and critically, but man, the relationship between Dahl and Fleming must have taken a hit. He also decided to not kill off Bond's archnemesis, Ernst Stavro Blofeld (the villain with the Persian cat), inadvertently helping create Dr. Claw and Dr. Evil.