Hilarious tale of cult fiction
James Franco’s comic drama charts the creation of a ‘bad classic’ — and it’s a hoot, says Paul Whitington
The Disaster Artist (15A, 105mins) ★★★★★
It’s not well known around these parts, but in America
The Room has a passionate cult following and is considered a good/bad classic. Greeted with derision and indifference during its brief original release in 2003, Tommy Wiseau’s film was rescued from obscurity by a small group of dedicated fans who were charmed by its unintentional comedy and began showing it at midnight screenings attended by students and bohemian types.
The craze caught on and The
Room is now a firm cult favourite: fans know the lines by heart and throw spoons and footballs during raucous screenings. Though Wiseau would retrospectively describe his film as a comedy, The
Room was made with deadly earnestness, its strange tale of an unhappy love triangle apparently inspired by Tommy’s bitter personal experiences.
Heartfelt, incoherent, epically shambolic, it’s been called “the
Citizen Kane of bad movies”. James Franco is among its high-profile Hollywood fans and, in The
Disaster Artist, attempts to humorously describe the making of it.
His comedy credentials are not encouraging. Franco is friendly with Seth Rogen, Judd Apatow, Danny McBride and Jay Baruchel, and has appeared with them in some thoroughly regrettable comedies, from the tedious stoner yarn Pineapple Express to the offensively dreadful medieval caper Your Highness. In addition, he tends to irritate people, partly because of his proclivity towards smug. But Franco can act, is no dummy, and in The Disaster Artist has every reason to look pleased with himself — because he’s managed to make a film that affectionately captures the absurdity of Wiseau’s quixotic project without ever making fun of it... or him.
Central to the film’s success is his hilarious portrayal of Wiseau himself, a mysterious character with shoulder-length hair and a very strange accent: he claims he’s from New Orleans, but Eastern Europe might be nearer the mark — some say Romania, but no one’s certain. Franco’s brother Dave co-stars as Greg Sestero, a handsome young San Franciscan actor who’s struggling hard to get a break when he meets a strange fellow at his drama class.
When Tommy lopes on to the stage to give his interpretation of Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar
Named Desire, the results are unspeakable. But Greg is astounded by Tommy’s fearlessness, and the two become friends.
Tommy has money and when he asks Dave to star in his film, the young man jumps at the opportunity. He would, over the following six months, find many reasons to regret that decision, as Tommy’s sprawling, nonsensical production consumed time, money and a vast, exasperated retinue of crew and cast members.
Like Tim Burton’s Ed Wood, The
Disaster Artist derives much of its humour from the fact that its protagonist considers himself a bit of a genius, but really isn’t. Tommy has total faith in his vision and ability, and seems entirely unaware of the unsettling effect his Neanderthal acting style has on those around him. He’s mercurial, dictatorial, prone to strops and hissy fits, and Seth Rogen is very funny playing Tommy’s bewildered script supervisor. Tommy uses up film like it’s going out of fashion and never seems to consider the possibility that the endless retakes have something to do with him.
Franco’s portrayal of him is brilliant: obscured by prosthetics and that impenetrable accent, he digs deep into Tommy’s complex and by no means unsympathetic personality, and never makes the mistake of letting his character in on the joke. Because Tommy is
deadly serious and, in The Room, was working out personal issues and emotional scars: little did he know he was crafting a knockabout farce.
In the film’s most touching scene, Tommy arrives in a stretch limo to the grand opening of his film, and is devastated when the audience’s squirms and groans turn to raucous laughter. But when Greg points out that they’re enjoying themselves, Tommy rallies.
He’d made something fun and life-affirming, even if he hadn’t meant to.