The Disaster Artist: Not a Disaster, But Not a Masterpiece
Photo by A24 ©2017 I was in high school when one of my best friends showed me a clip from what he called “the worst movie ever.” I found this a hyperbolic label but I watched the clip nonetheless. “Worst movie ever” didn’t even begin to describe the train wreck I witnessed. The most awkward, scraggly-haired man with the oddest accent stumbled into a flower shop and purchased a bouquet from a clearly disinterested shop clerk. None of their words synced with their mouths, there was no continuity in the shots, and the dialogue was uninspired. The film in question was The Room . The man was Tommy Wiseau. He had written, directed, and starred in this complete bomb and championed its release. Rationally, I knew what I was watching was terrible. It nevertheless filled me with such joy and did what many scenes struggle to do: entertained. Similar stories open The Disaster Artist , the James Franco-helmed exploration of the making of Wiseau’s now-heralded “masterpiece.” Krist...