I’m in the mood to talk about stinkers today. The influence of reading too many bad student essays may be the cause of this.

The other cause is that an acquaintance of mine is about to, or already has, crossed a major turning point in his life. He is about to watch Tommy Wiseau’s epic disaster The Room.

Back when I was at university, discussions of bad films with my English Department friends always included some version of the following exchange:

A–Dude, that movie sucked.
B–Was it worse than Stalker?
C–(appearing out of nowhere and interrupting like a Greek chorus) Nothing is worse than Stalker. (C disappears.)

Stalker is a Russian sci fi film with an interesting premise and lots of atmosphere but very little else. It has a running time of 163 minutes, although it feels much longer. It was the worst movie I’d ever seen until I saw After Dark, My Sweet which is another slow atmospheric film with little going on underneath the cinematography.

Both these films satisfy my main requirement for being truly epic stinkers: They take themselves oh so seriously. Plan 9 from Outer Space is cult classic bad because it tried so hard to be Shakespeare. The remake, Independence Day, just sucked because it was a spoof of a long dead genre. Roadside Picnic, the novel Stalker was based on, had humans living in a world changed after aliens paused a bit for lunch and a toilet break and left their trash behind. Stalker wanted to be about dreams and wishes in a bleak world but instead showed us people riding carts for several minutes or watching water go calm with no action and no dialogue. Believe it or not, it was slower than Heaven’s Gate.  After Dark, My Sweet had Jason Patric, Rachel Ward, Bruce Dern and a Jim Thompson pedigree, but it went nowhere slowly and then slowed down for effect.

The Room, however, exceeds them all and it is fair to say that there only two kinds of people on this earth: those who’ve seen The Room and those who still have souls.

Tommy Wiseau’s acting style combines William Shatner’s staccato and LOOK-AT-ME! ego with Christopher Walken’s random inflection on top of an accent that is not of this world. Scenes happen almost at random; serious issues are brought up and then dropped; one character changes actors and characters because the actor had to leave–they do give the new guy a new name, just no reason for him to be there; men toss around a football from only a few feet away from each other–it’s no joke to say the football is the best actor in the film–and Wiseau can turn trashing a room into a boring, yet comic masterpiece as he pulls the drawers out with much angry fury.

After you see it, you’ll see someone throw a ball and always think “Oh, hi, Mark.” After a friend tells you a horrible story of pain and death, you’ll laugh and say “Ha ha ha. What a story, (person’s name)”. At your birthday party you’ll say “You invited all my friends, good thinking!” When you meet a woman named Lisa you’ll always think “You ahhre tearing me apahhrt, Lisa!” which is simultaneously shouted and lifeless in the film.

Also, before you are tempted to watch it, remember this: One does not simply watch The Room. Its black heart is populated by more than just bad actors. There is evil there that does not sleep. Tommy Wiseau’s eyes are ever watchful and his melted-wax ass unforgettable. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very dialogue you hear is a poisonous fume. Not even with 10,000 beers and all the lights on should you watch this. It is folly.

I’ve never actually met this acquaintance. He is a friend of a friend and I only know him via Facebook and email. He seemed like an interesting guy.

I wish I’d had the chance to meet him before he watched The Room, though. The person I’ve been exchanging emails and texts with for several years no longer exists. He is no longer who he was.