The Room is one of the best bad movies ever made. It’s a disaster of a film about a torrid love triangle between three friends, Johnny, Mark, and Lisa, written by a man who can barely speak English. It’s a movie where characters go from trying to throw each other off a building to making small talk, where a woman declares she has breast cancer and nobody reacts or ever mentions it again, and where the sets are decorated with framed pictures of spoons.
It’s one of those so-bad-it’s-good films, made endearing by that the strong sense you get that the creator, Tommy Wiseau, really is just trying to make the best movie he can. Which he is. Because the man behind the 2003 cult classic is every bit as strange as the movie he made—and the story behind The Room is even weirder than the film itself.