The Disaster Artist goes inside the heart of a bad movie
It’s not hard to understand why watching a movie ironically is such a pastime. There’s something universally enjoyable about sitting in judgment. Everyone likes to feel superior—it makes our own shortcomings disappear for a while.
We are taught that art is subjective, that all opinions are valid. Volume on volume has been written on the subject of aesthetics and this much is certain—no one agrees on anything. And so, while there is certainly artwork that is objectively bad, objectively bad can sometimes equal high quality entertainment.
My journey into intentionally watching bad films came from one source—Mystery Science Theater 3000. Without it, I would have never seen such classics as Manos: Hands of Fate or The Robot Vs. The Aztec Mummy or This Island Earth.
MST3K led to me searching out other terrible films to enjoy in the company of friends, trying to recreate our own experience. But somehow, as we dug through the bargain bins at Walmart and poked around forgotten shelves in seedy rental shops, we never came across The Room.
Released in 2004, The Room is known as “the Citizen Kane of Bad Movies” and has enjoyed a wide cult following across the country. Video clips and gifs have appeared all over the internet, peppering message board conversations with words like “Oh, hi Mark” and “Anyway, how’s your sex life?”
The Room is an experience like no other—it’s hard to describe to someone who hasn’t seen it.
The Disaster Artist, a film by James Franco about the filming of The Room, tries to show the mystery behind the debacle, and leaves us with the same questions we had at the beginning. The truth is there is no answer. There is only the result.
The film is an adaptation of a book by the same name, written by Room star Greg Sestero. Told mostly through his eyes, The Disaster Artist follows Greg (Dave Franco) through the beginnings of his friendship with Tommy Wiseau (James Franco), the eccentric man who wrote, directed, produced, and starred in one of the worst films ever shown on the big screen.
As I said, there are no real answers to be had—Tommy Wiseau is as inexplicable in fiction as he is in real life. The facts, as are revealed to the audience are as such: Tommy claims to be from Louisiana despite a thick Eastern European accent, he has an apparently bottomless bank account, no one knows exactly how old he is, and he has an obsession with All-American movies and James Dean.
Greg meets Tommy at an acting class, where Tommy does weird things that no one understands. Enthralled, Greg asks him to be do a scene with him and their friendship begins in earnest. Eventually, the two move to Los Angeles and fail to gain any traction in the movie business.
Greg makes an offhand remark about how they should just make their own movie. Suddenly, Tommy is off to the races. The film follows as Greg and Tommy turn their ideas into reality and the friction it causes their relationship.
The Disaster Artist is best enjoyed by those that have seen The Room. Without prior knowledge of Tommy and his strangeness, the film might seem completely unbelievable. It also allows for the genuine appreciation of James Franco’s portrayal. He does the character justice without resorting caricature, which would have been much easier to do.
The film tells the story without pretention—it’s far less judgmental than it could have been, likely because the entire cast is familiar with the difficulty of creation. It’s poignant in that way—Wiseau may have made a terrible film, but it’s his terrible film, and it’s one that has entertained millions of people all over the world.
The film sort of makes the new criticism argument that artist intention can be discounted when evaluating a work. What matters is what the audience takes away.
What the audience takes away will be different for every audience. It makes sense for Wiseau to lean in and embrace the hilarity of his work. The Disaster Artist tries to show that Wiseau wanted to make a serious drama, but what he created was anything but. That he accepts it shows personal growth and humility. Or maybe he’s just really weird. You never can tell.