MOVIE REVIEW: Terrible 2003 film 'The Room' gets fresh, rewarding salute in James Franco’s 'The Disaster Artist'

NOTE: The Disaster Artist is expected to open in NW Arkansas theaters next week.

If Edward D. Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space is a lousy movie about space aliens, Tommy Wiseau's 2003 head-scratching oddity The Room appears to have been made by one.

Wiseau wrote, produced, directed and starred in The Room despite the fact that he had no experience in filmmaking, or possibly the English language. The characters behave as no human beings you've ever met (who plays football in tuxes?), and with all the shots that are out of focus, one wonders if Wiseau is overdue for some new corrective lenses.

Because Wiseau's willingness to overlook his own beginner's mistakes in front of and behind the camera while pursuing his dream with a devotion that makes Capt. Ahab seem like a quitter, the movie is as entertaining as it is inept and mystifying.

It would take no effort for another filmmaker to satirize The Room, and thankfully James Franco doesn't try. As the star and director of The Disaster Artist, Franco chooses to celebrate Wiseau and his Quixotic drive to conquer Hollywood. The book by the same title by Wiseau's co-star Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell is a delightful and even informative read, and Franco's film is similarly rewarding.

It begins in an acting class where an eager but cripplingly shy student named Greg Sestero (Dave Franco) can't get through a simple performance of Waiting for Godot. His teacher (Melanie Griffith) rightly criticizes him and his scene partner for bungling in front of the rest of the students.

The next student, however, winds up owning the auditorium even though his turn from A Streetcar Named Desire might make Tennessee Williams do cartwheels in his grave. But Sestero craves the fearlessness of this Tommy Wiseau (James Franco) guy. It's obvious Wiseau is wired differently from other folks. He says he's from New Orleans, but his broken English sounds like nothing one would hear in the Crescent City, and he tosses a football as if he has never seen one before.

Wiseau has a place in Los Angeles, and Sestero moves in. Soon his more successful friends and acquaintances (stars like Bryan Cranston and Adam Scott playing themselves) start to edge away from him as they get to know his weird, creepy roommate.

Both Sestero and Wiseau realize they're going to have a difficult time making a living as actors, so Sestero wonders what would happen if they made their own film. Wiseau then decides this is what he was born to do.

Unlike other struggling artists, Wiseau apparently has a fat bank account and can spend millions to make his bleary-eyed vision a reality.

The director-star sees Wiseau as an odd fellow with universal aspirations. Instead of simply aping Wiseau's bizarre patois, Franco consistently depicts him as somebody who simply wants to matter and who will do just about anything to do so. Except take advice from professionals.

Speaking of professionals, Franco features lots of his friends in the cast and uses them perfectly. Having someone like Cranston play himself gives the story a feeling of authenticity it wouldn't have otherwise, and it's hard not to love comedy mogul Judd Apatow as an annoyed producer trying to shove Wiseau away.

Franco may have taken a risk by casting his younger brother Dave as Sestero, but the two have a natural rapport that makes up for the fact that their age gap is not as wide as their characters'. The younger Franco also has a way of being naively supportive but also keenly aware that age hasn't wizened his pal.

Seth Rogen steals the show as Sandy Schklair, a continuity expert who seems to be the only person involved with The Room who knows how a set or even real life works. His constant frustration with his cash-rich but talent-poor boss leads to the film's funniest moments.

If you've never seen The Room, it might be a good thing (it is pretty awful, if entertaining), and you won't get lost in the new film. Franco expertly re-creates Wiseau's bizarre film shot-for-shot in places and curiously gives the material just enough affection to show how it might have worked in more accomplished and thoughtful hands.

Two-time Oscar-nominee Jacki Weaver plays Carolyn Minnott, probably the only actress ever asked to play getting breast cancer as if it were a pimple instead of a fatal condition. When she recites the clumsy dialogue, it almost sounds as if it came from a capable dramatist. When she says that the worst day of acting is better than the best day of doing anything else, it's easy to believer her.

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MovieStyle on 12/08/2017