My Thoughts On Greg Sestero's The Disaster Artist

      For many years, Tommy Wiseau's cinematic masterpiece The Room has been the target of much awe from it's fans, even though it had been torpedoed by critics upon it's initial release. This was long before we discovered the charm hidden under the rubble. It is an example of film-making which has gone spectacularly wrong. Only the most rudimentary  elements survive the continuum of the plot; Johnny loves Lisa. Lisa betrays Johnny. Mark is Johnny's best friend. Mark also betrays Johnny. Everybody betrays Johnny.  The movie is terrible.

    Yes, the movie is terrible. But part of what keeps people coming to theaters around the world is the mysterious, enigmatic director.  Nobody knows where Tommy Wiseau came from. His accent sounds like an awkward mixture of French and Eastern European. Yet he's often claimed publicly that he was from New Orleans. Fans have long since called bullshit on that, though it delights us to no end when he repeatedly makes the claim. Even though it's largely unknown, somehow, he managed to conquer the American dream and rise from abject obscurity to make the most notoriously bad film of all time. Yes, it's bad. But it is the biggest cult hit on the scene since the release of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

     You may love the film, as I do. Or you may hate the film with a vengeance comparable to the furnaces of Hell. You would be perfectly within your right. One thing you can not say about The Room, however, is that it's forgettable. It is not forgettable. Stephen Soderberg's Haywire  is forgettable. (Only two months after having seen it, my friend Ben had to explain the entire plot of the story before I was able to vaguely locate it in the recesses of my memory.) Tommy Wiseau's The Room certainly isn't.  

 In fact, much like my grandparents recall the assassination of John F. Kennedy, much like my mom recalls the 1986 Space Shuttle Challenger disaster, and much like how I remember the awful events of September Eleventh, 2001, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing the first time I saw the trailer for Tommy Wiseau's magnum opus. I'm sure many other long-time fans can offer up a similar memory. I was in my old house in Beaverton, minding my own business. It was a slow evening, replete with facebook activities. Suddenly, I see the messages icon go red, with notifications. They were adding up incredibly fast.  Puzzled, I clicked on the icon, and saw my friend and comrade in arms Ben Eastman was sending me a slough of messages.  I don't recall them exactly, but it was something like "Have you watched the link I sent you?"  "You need to watch it."  "Watch it RIGHT NOW."   "NOW!"  "DO IT!" Okay, Ben. Cool your jets.

     I scrolled up through the twenty or so messages that Ben had just sent me in a matter of ten seconds, and found the link, and I clicked on it.   THIS is what I saw.   As my mouth was hanging open from disbelief, the only thought I could find in my head was "I have to see this film."

     And I did. I couldn't stand it the first time. But it slowly grew on me. I've had the honor Tommy Wiseau three times (I am actually meeting him again in a few days when he returns to Portland) I met Greg Sestero once.  But recently, he came out with a book that adequately explains the question that has haunted fans like myself for many years. "What in the hell happened?"

     As a filmmaker myself, the book is an exercise in absolute terror.Tommy makes every decision in a disastrously wrong way and needlessly alienates his entire crew. Though even with the terror, I have never read a book which made me laugh more. I've rarely read a book as touching as The Disaster Artist.   Yes, it's blunt. It's harsh in it's criticisms of Tommy Wiseau. It mocks him, and repeatedly points out his inadequacies with relish. However, much to my astonishment, even with all of the anecdotes that reflect very poorly on Tommy, it also manages to be a totally loving tribute to a man who has somehow captured the imagination of millions with a complete disaster of a movie.  

     Another remarkable feat of the book is it sheds light on many of the mysteries that have surrounded the film since it came out. It answered many of the questions I had, and vanquished much of the mystery. Yet it somehow only enhances the experience of The Room. There is no diminishing of the experience even with the book's revelations.   It's not a cheap, dubious celebrity tell-all. It's a truly wonderful book, sure to lift your spirits.