Monday, April 26, 2010

room for awesome!

Holy. Crap. Before I go into why I'm reacting to something in such a way that's caused me to split a two-word phrase into two sentences with proper capitalization and punctuation, I think you need to watch this:



Ladies and gentlemen of the e-world, what you just watched was the trailer for "The Room," or as the world is quickly coming to know it, "The Worst Movie in the History of Ever." Yeah... I'm not sure who compared it to any work of Tennessee Williams' (*cough* Tommy Wiseau *cough*), but uh, maybe if "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" was actually called "Crap by a Big Dumb Douche," instead, that comparison would be accurate.

Yet, still, "The Room" is worth seeing. Why? Because it's so bad, that it's become so, so incredibly good. Really, it's the "Citizen Kane" of the 21st century, except without any of the talent and artistic vision. Indeed, while "Citizen Kane" is a world-class cinematic hit, "The Room" is a world-class pile of sh*t. Like I said: Holy. Crap.

Where to even start...

Well, first of all, meet Polish visionary Tommy Wiseau, who thought himself talented enough to write, direct, produce and star in his own masterpiece, "The Room," which brings up the first of an infinite amount of questions that shall forever go unanswered: WHY IS IT CALLED "THE ROOM!?"


Transfixed by his lazy eye yet? Well, just wait until get a load (literally) of all the gratuitous shots of his wrinkly, white backside in several Skinemax-worthy love scenes set to truly horrendous R&B as interpreted by a creepy Pole.

And speaking of creepy, what the f*ck is up with the lead female character, Lisa, and her neck? It's as if her neck is a leather couch and she's hosting a nude Danny DeVito inside. That sickness is only topped by her fashion sense. Seriously, who had that hair-do in 2003? OMG! THIS MOVIE WAS MADE IN 2003! The costume designer should be slimed because, clearly, she doesn't have a clue.

And, actually, I don't really have a clue...as to who most of the characters are, that is! Seriously, who are the two people who have sex on Johnny's couch? Who is the random man who suddenly have, like, a legitimate speaking role at the end of the movie? Seriously, WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?! Yes, you quickly become well-acquainted with the second question that shall forever go unanswered.

And while we're on a roll, meet Denny, the young bisexual orphan boy with the 1993 haircut. Oh and also, he someone gets tied up in the drug trade for a hot second. No really, he literally has a drug problem for about a second in this film because after the epic "WHERE'S MY F*CKIN' MONEY, DENNY?!" scene that entire subplot is dropped quicker than you can even ask the next question to forever go unanswered: WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON HERE?!

Which brings me to all the other subplots that are mentioned, yet never resolved: Lisa's fake pregnancy; Lisa's mom's breast cancer diagnosis; and, perhaps, most perplexing of them all, which happens to be the fourth and fifth questions to go forever unanswered: WHAT IS UP WITH JOHNNY'S DECISION TO PAIR AN ILL-FITTING BLAZER WITH ZIP-OFF CARGO PANTS?!; and, WHAT THE F*CK IS IN THE POCKETS OF THOSE CARGO PANTS?! (Could it be a pocketful of stupid comments, perhaps?!) And really, I'm only skimming the surface of "The Room's" near-infinite supply of plot holes. It'll tear you apart!

Wow. I love how I could write so much and say so little. I haven't even told you what this work of [f]art is all about! A LOVE TRIANGLE BETWEEN JOHNNY, LISA AND MARK!

Oh yeah. Meet Mark, portrayed by former model Greg "Sestosterone" Sestero, who is probably the one and only legitimate actor in the film. And by "legitimate actor," I mean, in a truly remarkable theatrical epiphany, Sestosterone really pulled off his character's inexplicable decision to shave his beard midway through the movie.



And of course, now you want to see more. I know I did after I first heard about this travesty, which is why I went to the E Street Theater at midnight on Saturday and watched the whole goddamn thing. And to my incredible delight, I found out that "The Room" has become more than just a bad movie. It's become an experience! Indeed, it's "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" of the new millennium, except again, without any of the talent of artistic vision.

But seriously, "The Room" is quickly becoming a cult classic, featuring all the live-screening shenanigans that go along with it. For instance, the subject the sixth question that shall forever go unanswered, a framed picture of a spoon that's prominently featured in almost every shot of Johnny's apartment (WHY?!), offers you a chance to exercise your throwing arm. Bring plastic spoons to throw at the screen whenever this enigma is displayed. Which is unsurprisingly very often.

Also, get your chant phrases down because certain parts of the movie call for audience participation: "F*CK THAT BELLYBUTTON!" (Because, um, he's doing her abdomen.); "HI, DENNY!" (Because everybody loves Denny!); "WHO ARE YOU?" (Because seriously, who the hell is that?); "THAT'S NOT A ROOM!" (Because it's not.); "BECAUSE YOU'RE A WOMAN!" (Because she's a woman.) "HI, DOGGIE!" (Because that's what you say to portly pugs in flower shops.); and, of course, "F*CK THAT DRESS!" (Because, naturally, he humps a dress.)

But don't feel restricted by just those phrases. The whole movie offers you chances to make up your own quips, which the audience is encouraged to shout-out during the screening. My most well-received shout-out was, "SHUT UP! APPLES ARE FULL OF FIBER!" (Because they are.)

But spoons and shouting aren't the only forms of mocking suitable for this film. Feel free to move about the theater. Bring a football to participate in the only form of male bonding that occurs in the world of "The Room." Bring a rose because it's sexy. Wear a tuxedo, a red dress, or dress up like you forgot what decade it is. Hell, get up and dry hump a railing if you need to. Anything goes!

And so, in a first here at The Anti DC, we shall raise our proverbial glasses containing a tipple of scotchka (you'll come to know it well) and give proper accolades to the awesome horrendousness that is "The Room."

4 comments:

Patrick B said...

reasons to live indeed!

Debbi said...

Could it possibly be worse than the movie "Two or Three Things I Know About Her"? 90 minutes that go by like 10 hours. Totally pretentious French film.

And what's even worse is that it's not even bad enough to inspire audience participation of any sort. In fact, I was desperately hoping to fall asleep, but failed abysmally.

Marissa said...

patrick--

You must come to the next screening! Bring spoons.

debbi--

I think we're talking about two different kinds of bad. I'm talking about something so ridiculous, something so ill-conceived that, although unintentionally, it is GREAT.

Never saw the movie you're talking about, but it sounds like it sucks in the conventional sense.

Debbi said...

Ah, movies so bad they're good are awesome. (Think Ed Wood here.)

Movies so bad you'd rather bash your own head in, rather than watch another minute, suck.