The Room was released in 2003 to widespread critical acclaim. Tommy Wiseau’s impeccable performance, his meticulous direction and sharp writing, the beautiful cinematography employed by Wiseau’s carefully selected crew, and the flawless editing employed to convey the intensity of the story. Throughout the remainder of cinematic history, until humankind as a species finally exasperates its resources and becomes a chapter in world history for future Earthly epochs, The Room’s sheer beauty and power might not ever be matched.

Obviously, I’m being sarcastic, but, then again, there’s a hint of truth.

The Room is uniformly considered to be one of the worst films ever produced. A masterpiece of wrongful decision-making and bizarrely awful creative choices in every aspect of the filmmaking process. The hint of truth derives from the mere fact that the film is undeniably become one of the most memorable films of the past couple decades sheerly for the entertaining quality of its inadequacy.

The absurdity is attributed to the unconventional position it holds on the scale of a film’s quality. The film definitely flies close to the bottom of the barrel, however, primarily as a result of Wiseau’s performance as the protagonist and the nature of the dialogue and narrative, the film shifts to an exterior plane where it’s an alternatively awful movie. Often, when once contemplates “so good it’s bad” movies, numerous predicatively bad movies reside in the science fiction and/or horror genres (such as Plan 9 From Outer Space), and occasionally, the action genre.

The pleasure comes from the fact that the film’s aim was usually to simply be well-crafted, creatively produced dumb fun, however, due to incompetent acting, writing, and cinematography, the dumb fun is accompanies by stupid filmmaking.

Films that are ostensibly films that are begging for Oscar nominations, however, such as dramatic, historical, and biographical films, can be placed on a range of quality, but, usually it’s never so bad that it’s enjoyable. It’s obvious that cliched plot twists, actor methodology, and visual choices are chosen to become a ripe selection for the Oscars, however, a film such as The Room, in which the narrative deals with themes of love, loss, grief, drug abuse, and friendship with a charismatic protagonist who endures a slow descent only to meet his tragic end in a Shakespearean fashion, somehow manages to be more entertaining than many of these “so bad it’s good” science fiction and horror films.

The Room isn’t cheesy, corny, campy, or shamelessly gratuitous, but rather, it’s ostensibly that the bizareness and unpredictable nature of the story speaks to Tommy Wiseau’s goal to produce a brilliant romantic tragedy and his self-perception as the simultaneous Shakespeare and Marlon Brando of a new generation. It’s a memorable piece of a masterful catastrophe, and the fact that a film, The Disaster Artist, has been produced to capture the essence of the film’s origins and the character of Tommy Wiseau is a testament to the legend.

I strongly implore you to view this truly masterful film on the big screen. The biographical narrative speaks to the richness of the material from which it was adapted, and the film captures every curiosity sparked by fans of the original film. It depicts the phenomenon of the filmmaking process under Tommy Wiseau’s creative control, it paints a picture of the perpetual mystery of Tommy Wiseau, and, most importantly, the writing for Wiseau and James Franco’s impeccable performance is truly something to laud.

2015 provided film that mesmerized me as a cinematic staple, in which George Miller released a long-awaited sequel to the Mad Max franchise, Mad Max: Fury Road, a action masterpiece of absolute madness, purist aesthetics, and exhilarating action set to a beautiful landscape.

In 2016, Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice was released, which, in an unpopular opinion, I defend the film as being an operatic, deeply complex epic that deserves more credit than it receives. In 2017, two films that have captivated me to the point that I am anxious to watch them, again. Firstly, Blade Runner 2049, a sequel to one of my favorite films, and The Disaster Artist, a near-perfect film that captures true comedy and honest drama in the sense that it feels so real.

The narrative is thoroughly entertaining from the opening scene to the final scene in which the film is finally premiered. There is never a dull moment, and every character provides perspective on how the world responds to Tommy Wiseau’s bizarre personality, quirks, and mannerisms. Although I’ve done very little research on Greg Sistero, the character was portrayed sympathetically, and, although Tommy is the focus of the film, Greg is the center of the narrative, placing someone with human desires, goals, and personality quirks at the center that we can relate to in a response to Tommy.

Although Franco’s imitation, his voice, mannerisms, and personality, is truly impeccable, the performance would be nothing more than a feature-length adaptation. Franco, who doubles as the director’s, choice to paint the character as a sympathetic character is brilliant. Although Wiseau rarely verbalizes his personal thoughts and feelings to maintain his mysterious aura, with Tommy only verbalizing his feelings on rare occasions when he becomes emotional, it’s the facial expressions, the random choices, and strange dialogue that paints the bizarre character as a person. Previously, I was convinced he was an alien from a distant galaxy. Now, I’m convinced he’s a human being.

The film’s comedy is much sharper than almost any pure, modern American comedy being screened in theaters. Partially due to the aforementioned rich material, and also because every character is painted as normal people with genuine dialogue, personalities, and reactions so the comedy is more relatable as often being at Wiseau’s expense. The drama is difficult to conceive, but, at various scenes, we are implored to feel sympathy for Greg, and more impressively, the film paints Tommy as someone who crafted a bad movie and felt shameful before its cult status launched him into stardom.

The film laughs at him at certain points, but, often, it laughs with him because the writing doesn’t portray him as a total moron. He often spouts witty dialogue and interesting perspectives on the world around him, and, although he seems to have a blind spot for how to recreate reality and human behavior, he often has a keen eye for what’s going on in other people’s heads, and, he can draw inferences from what Greg and his crew’s choices says about their perception of him and his film. He has deep emotions, he has a power complex that resembles the late but great Stanley Kubrick due to his need for control and persistence in sticking to his creative choices. When he premieres his film, not only is he able to recognize how people are reacting, but, since Wiseau isn’t a moron, there’s the slightest hint that Tommy is able to recognize the awfulness of his film and its ridiculous narrative, characters, and creative choices.

I mean, Wiseau screened the film for two weeks so it would qualify for the Oscars, but, it’s ostensible from the beginning of the the movie-within-a-movie based on the real Greg Sestero’s personal account’s production that Wiseau perceives his film as a deeply complex Shakespearean vision, however, when the audiences react with rowdy laughter, he suddenly proclaims the film to be intentionally comedic and satirical. Tommy is obviously aware of the film’s quality. He simply wanted to be a star. He was immensely wealthy, so he didn’t want fortune. He wanted fame, acclaim, and adoration.

Although it wasn’t in the manner that he desired, he managed to attain that for fans of The Room.

Although The Room doesn’t capture the complex “human behavior” that he was aiming for, The Disaster Artist successfully paints Wiseau as a human being with heart, passion, and a love of drama, and the result is hilarious, emotional, and thoroughly entertaining.