Donât come to The Disaster Artist looking for answers. James Francoâs film about the making of The Room probably wonât resolve your biggest questions about Tommy Wiseau, the writer/director/producer/star of that infamously bad 2003 movie.
Wiseau, a vampirish-looking man with long, jet-black hair and a thick accent of indeterminate Eastern European origin, was able to sink millions into making The Room, a vanity project that cribbed liberally from Tennessee Williams and Rebel Without a Cause. The amateurish, over-the-top melodrama has since become a cult favorite, with midnight screenings packing in dedicated hordes of giggling fans. As to where Wiseauâs money came fromâand where Wiseau himself came fromâFrancoâs movie keeps mum.
Thatâs part of the fun. Rather than craft an exposĂŠ, Franco embraces Wiseauâs inscrutability while drawing a vivid emotional portrait of him. Wiseau (played by Franco) is seen through the eyes of his friend and collaborator Greg Sestero (played by Francoâs younger brother Dave), and The Disaster Artistâs script is based on Sesteroâs memoir. At first you think itâs going to be a sniggering, get-a-load-of-this-guy takedown, especially with comedians like Seth Rogen, Paul Scheer, and Jason Mantzoukas in the mix. And, to be certain, the cast clearly gets an enormous kick out of restaging The Roomâs awful, awkward scenes, aping everything down to the camera angles, the chintzy scenery, and the stilted line readings.
Despite all the jokes it cracks at The Roomâs expense, it eventually becomes clear that everyone involved in The Disaster Artist has deep affection for Wiseauâs weird, wretched movie.
Itâs hilarious. But Francoâs Wiseauâwhile enormously funnyâis given surprising depth and complexity, and thatâs no small feat, considering how ridiculous the character is. Wiseau clearly doesnât know the first thing about making a movie, yet his ego spirals out of control on the set of The Roomâalienating his crew and actors, and eventually creating a rift with Sestero, his only ally. That the two nearly identical Francos are playing unrelated, very different-looking men is jarring only at the filmâs beginning, especially since Jamesâ portrayal of Wiseau is so wild and committed that itâs hard to think of him as the same species as Daveâs guileless, baby-faced Sestero. Throughout The Disaster Artist, James Franco is jaw-droppingly goodâeven as heâs concealed behind Wiseauâs preposterous accent and fashion senseâwhile special commendation goes to the incredible Ari Graynor as The Roomâs leading lady/femme fatale, Juliette Danielle, whose mortification at the final product is palpable.
Thereâs a homegrown, letâs-make-this-movie-the-way-we-want-to determination in The Disaster Artistâdown to its countless chummy cameosâthatâs very much in keeping with Wiseauâs own approach. Despite all the jokes it cracks at The Roomâs expense, it eventually becomes clear that everyone involved in The Disaster Artist has deep affection for Wiseauâs weird, wretched movie.
Itâs okay if you donât, though. The Disaster Artist is so funny that it probably wonât matter if youâve never heard of Wiseau or The Room. The story, as uproarious as it is, is so ridiculous and unbelievable that I suppose it might be hard for a newcomer to swallow. To that end, The Disaster Artistâs end credits split-screen scenes from The Room next to its own recreations. Rest assured, this shit happened.
Most of it, anyway. Some poetic license is surely taken for the sequence of The Roomâs premiere, a gala affair complete with searchlights and a packed house, and the movie necessarily fast-tracks The Roomâs trajectory from disastrous vanity project to cult sensation, which in real life took several years. But everything else rings true, with an emotional resonance that sneaks up on you. In the end, The Disaster Artist may be the exact opposite of The Roomâdeliberately hilarious and accidentally heartfelt. And if youâre wondering how the real Wiseau feels about any of this? Just be sure to stay all the way through the credits.