OneMetal.com film REVIEW:
The Room

The Room is sort of beyond comprehension: not so much a car crash of a movie, but more a head-on collision between a busload of orphans and a dumper truck driven by a brain-damaged clown.

For those of you who don’t know, The Room is a 2003 independent film written, produced, directed by and starring Tommy Wiseau. Its limited theatrical run was a disaster, but the film slowly gathered notoriety as word of mouth spread: this was a film so bad, so terminally rotten, so unintentionally hilarious you simply had to see it. The film soon found its home on the midnight movie circuit and developed a cult following. Audiences came back again and again, dressed as principle characters, throwing around key props and screaming out lines like giddy children with tourettes.

The Room follows Johnny (Wiseau), a banker and all round nice guy who is being cuckolded by the devious Lisa (Juliette Danielle). The third wheel on this adultery tricycle, Mark (Greg Sestero), just so happens to be Johnny’s best buddy. Ouch. It all seems so straightforward, but this apparently simple story is executed so ineptly, it best resembles a Tennessee Williams play performed by inmates at a home for the criminally insane.

It is difficult to know where to start with The Room. It’s no exaggeration on my part to say that every single creative decision defies explanation. Technically, it can kindly be described as amateurish; the poorly composed shots are frequently out of focus, the ADR is barely synced with the actor’s mouths and there is green screen use that almost transcends common sense. But hey, it’s a low budget indie, a raw, rough-around-the-edges feel is to be expected: the writing is where the magic is. And my word, what magic!

The main three-way pump-off plot is simple enough, but Wiseau’s script encompasses several unfathomable subplots: Lisa’s mother casually reveals she has breast cancer, yet it is instantly glossed over and never alluded to again, local college kid Denny is involved in a mysterious rooftop altercation with a gun wielding drug dealer over monies owed, although who the dealer is, what the money was for or why Denny owed it is never explained. The character of Denny is one of the script’s more complex enigmas; we’re told he is a college student and that Johnny pays his tuition, yet in many scenes he acts as though he is Johnny and Lisa’s adopted manchild, making it hard to decipher whether or not he is the full shilling. Oh, and he is also in love with Lisa.

At the centre of this cinematic marvel is a genuine force of nature in Tommy Wiseau, who stamps his demented vision on every frame. The film’s auteur and star resembles a half-melted waxwork of a long forgotten WWF wrestler, re-animated by some diabolical shaman. Johnny is a conflicted soul and Wiseau communicates this with a physical performance that evokes an angry bear fighting off the effects of a recently administered tranquilizer. Vocally, he is no less commanding, delivering his dialogue in a thick Teutonic accent, in a bizarre rhythm suggesting he is reading his lines from idiot boards, held off camera by an epileptic chimp. The rest of the cast play their leaden, nonsensical scenes with a curious mix of embarrassment and confusion.

And then there are the spoons. Yes, the main projectile hurled at midnight screenings are white plastic spoons, a reference to the never explained photographs of said cutlery that can be spotted in the background of several scenes. Like I said, The Room is sort of beyond comprehension.

As the credits rolled (and they were extensive – Wiseau had no less than five assistants, and allegedly replaced the entire crew – twice) I sat blinking in disbelief at what I’d witnessed, unable to fully understand what I’d experienced. I was starting to wonder if this was some elaborate joke. If it was, who was the joke on? Wiseau frequently turns up at screenings and guffaws along with the crowds, even going so far as to claim that the laughs are intentional and The Room is a black comedy. This claim is clearly hogwash, debunked by various members of the cast who paint Wiseau as an deluded egomaniac who made the film as a showcase for his ahem, acting talents. What is clear is that Wiseau put everything he had into The Room, but is he really laughing along with everyone else tearing his labour of love apart? On the outside maybe.

Or is the joke on the audience? We’ve knowingly shelled out our hard earned cash to watch an unspeakably incompetent film, is Wiseau laughing all the way to the bank? I’d suggest not, as The Room allegedly cost $6m (quite how is beyond me) and the returns from monthly screenings will hardly see him lighting his cigars with flaming $100 bills. Ultimately, no matter what his intentions, Wiseau has managed to get his film made his way, without restraint and onto big screens around the world. Irrespective of the public response, not many film makers can boast that.

I feel a bit guilty laughing at someone else’s shortcomings, but Schadenfreude aside, The Room is absolutely fantastic. Wiseau stands by it and so do I. I certainly enjoyed The Room more than I enjoyed, say, Avatar and I definitely laughed more during its 99 minutes than I have during any intentional comedy in recent memory. It is so perfect in its awfulness, so comprehensively incompetent; it deserves to be seen by as many people as possible. Just don’t watch it, alone, sober or without anything to throw at the screen.

Watch the trailer for The Room below:

Bottom Line

A deluded and wildly incompetent film, yet quite, quite brilliant. As a bad film, it is simply without equal. The score below is not so much a reflection of the film's quality, it's more a badge of honour.