If you’ve ever seen “The Room,” a 2003 feature that’sꦛ been called one of the worst films of the 21st century, you probably had some burning questions about its leading man, such as: How old is that guy, really? Where does the marble-mouthed accent hail from? What, in God’s name, is his deal?
No one has apparently been able to answer the first two, but director/star James Franco ꦓdoes a hell of a job on the third in “The Disaster Artist,” the story of Tommy Wiseau, the man behind a truly awful movie that became a cult classic. Funny — sometimes brutally — and surprisingly touching, it works whether you’ve seen the source material or not, though there are plentiful shout-outs to die-hard fans.
“The Disaster Artist” is also an ode to friendship, and Franco enlists his little brother Dave to play Greg Sestero, who pa💟rtnered with Wiseau to make “The Room.” It’s an inspired on-screen pairing, the first time the siblings have worked together since a . (They’re a great prequel to “The Disaster Artist,” with Dave playing straight guy to his artsy brother’s faux-prete꧋nsion.)
The affable Greg meets Tommy in 1998 in acting class, where he’s wowed by Tommy’s ability to emote — specifically, screaming “Stella!” while🅺 lying on the ground dry-humping the air, to the chagrin of their acting teacher (Melanie G🐽riffith, the first in a parade of celeb cameos).
Inhabiting Tommy’s loud-and-proud weirdo persona seems like a job Franco’s bee💖n working toward his entire career. The character isn’t a likable guy — at times, he seems like a straight-up 💞creep — but Franco humanizes him, disappearing into the jet-black mane of hair, reptilian eyes and mysterious accent. (“I from New Orleans,” Tommy informs anyone who asks.)
The two men become friends and roommat෴es, with Tommy’s admonition that Greg “never talk about me” ღnor question the source of his seemingly endless funds.
Those funds allow them to make the♚ir own movie after Hollywood fails to yield work for either, and this is where the film really takes comic flight. Tommy’s impassioned script about an “all-A𒆙merican” guy named Johnny whose girlfriend Lisa (played here by Ari Graynor) cheats on him is howlingly bad.
But he throws millions at making it, and Franco’s retelling is both a satirical swipe at Hollywood and testament to chasing your dreams, no matter how ludicrous. Its cast and crew (Seth Rogen is particularly good as a bemused script supervisor) are bewildered. Its premiere audience shifts gradually from stunned disbelief to hysteri💟cal laughter, an amalgamation of the film’s critical reception in the months and years following its release.
A split-sc🍸reen comparison of scenes ༒from the real “The Room” and those re-created in “Disaster Artist” is a gem, and Wiseau’s cameo relieves at least a little of the cringe factor of having this much fun at the expense of one guy’s ambitions. But then, that’s the trajectory of “The Room” in a nutshell.