The nature of most exploitation films is to be a delivery system for crazy shit you can't see in mainstream movies. Most of them only exist for a handful of moments, and the rest of the film almost feels like a byproduct of the process. That's what made Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof so great and Robert Rodriguez's Planet Terror such a misfire. No actual grindhouse movie would ever have the budget for something like Planet Terror. Tarantino understood that great car stunts go hand in hand with long dialogue scenes that go nowhere and exist only to pad the running time.
Squirm is the quintessential "this exists for a handful of scenes" movie. You have to sit through approximately an hour of excruciatingly dull filler before you get to the goods. But in this case the goods are real goods. Tens (maybe hundreds) of thousands of real worms, filling a house, a giant squirming mass with endless close-ups of their nasty little hooked jaws until you turn into a squirming coward. How are they coming through the ceiling? What's the real danger they possess beyond the gross-out factor? Who knows and who cares? This is the type of one-of-a-kind spectacle that you watch these movies for.
