(no subject)
Feb. 1st, 2018 08:02 pmLast time I went back home for a memorial, I accidentally read a book about murderous prep school students and untimely death.
"OK," said I to myself, "THIS time I'm going to select plane reading that is FUNNY and NOT DEPRESSING, my friend loaned me The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside the Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever Made, I'll read THAT."
...and then promptly found myself bombarded with murderous prep school students and untimely death AGAIN, how was I supposed to know that Greg Sestero thinks his relationship with Tommy Wiseau is just like The Talented Mr. Ripley?
Anyway. As a connoisseur of theatrical disasters and behind-the-scenes terrible tell-alls (see: Song of Spiderman I felt obliged to read The Disaster Artist even though I have never seen any of the The Room except for thirteen-second clip that![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rachelmanija linked to in her review of this book, and can vouch for it as a compelling read regardless.
The plot of this apparently nonfiction narrative: Greg Sestero, a youthful model with hopes of making it as an actor, befriends Tommy Wiseau, a probably-not-youthful mysterious stranger with no apparent friends, connections, or employment but absolutely absurd amounts of money, when he asks Tommy to be his scene partner in acting class -- mostly because he's extremely lonely and finds Tommy's boundless, totally ungrounded self-confidence weirdly inspiring.
Five years later, Tommy is producing and starring in his own movie, and offers to pay Greg -- who has completely failed to Make It Big in Hollywood -- a fairly absurd amount of money if he will co-star in the role of Mark, The Best Friend Who BetraysTommy Johnny By Sleeping With Tommy Johnny's Future Wife. Despite a level of understandable personal discomfort with the fact that Tommy wrote the role of Mark the Brutus just for him and a looming (accurate) sense that acting in this film will be the most embarrassing thing he ever does in his life, Greg agrees.
The narrative jumps back and forth between the tragicomic trainwreck that is the making of The Room and the equal trainwreck that is Greg and Tommy's weird, obsessive friendship (see above, re: The Talented Mr. Ripley.) The best part, as Rachel says in her review, is watching Hollywood professional after Hollywood professional attempt to steer the production in a more reasonable direction and come slowly and inevitably to grips the fact that there is no way to derail the Tommy train from its chosen, nonsensical route. Take the set down! Now put it back up again! Now greenscreen everything! Maybe Johnny's car will fly off the roof and take off into the sunset, maybe Johnny is a vampire, we don't know, it's one of life's little mysteries!
Now, I have to say, if I were Tommy Wiseau, I would not be very happy with the book my buddy Greg Sestero wrote about me, our friendship, and My Masterpiece. However, clearly I am as bad at everyone else at understanding The Mystery that is Tommy Wiseau, because now Greg and Tommy are apparently starring in ANOTHER movie about their weird and obsessive friendship, after their partnership was rekindled by the writing of The Disaster Artist and subsequent creation of the film of the same name! So WHO KNOWS.
"OK," said I to myself, "THIS time I'm going to select plane reading that is FUNNY and NOT DEPRESSING, my friend loaned me The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside the Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever Made, I'll read THAT."
...and then promptly found myself bombarded with murderous prep school students and untimely death AGAIN, how was I supposed to know that Greg Sestero thinks his relationship with Tommy Wiseau is just like The Talented Mr. Ripley?
Anyway. As a connoisseur of theatrical disasters and behind-the-scenes terrible tell-alls (see: Song of Spiderman I felt obliged to read The Disaster Artist even though I have never seen any of the The Room except for thirteen-second clip that
rachelmanija linked to in her review of this book, and can vouch for it as a compelling read regardless. The plot of this apparently nonfiction narrative: Greg Sestero, a youthful model with hopes of making it as an actor, befriends Tommy Wiseau, a probably-not-youthful mysterious stranger with no apparent friends, connections, or employment but absolutely absurd amounts of money, when he asks Tommy to be his scene partner in acting class -- mostly because he's extremely lonely and finds Tommy's boundless, totally ungrounded self-confidence weirdly inspiring.
Five years later, Tommy is producing and starring in his own movie, and offers to pay Greg -- who has completely failed to Make It Big in Hollywood -- a fairly absurd amount of money if he will co-star in the role of Mark, The Best Friend Who Betrays
The narrative jumps back and forth between the tragicomic trainwreck that is the making of The Room and the equal trainwreck that is Greg and Tommy's weird, obsessive friendship (see above, re: The Talented Mr. Ripley.) The best part, as Rachel says in her review, is watching Hollywood professional after Hollywood professional attempt to steer the production in a more reasonable direction and come slowly and inevitably to grips the fact that there is no way to derail the Tommy train from its chosen, nonsensical route. Take the set down! Now put it back up again! Now greenscreen everything! Maybe Johnny's car will fly off the roof and take off into the sunset, maybe Johnny is a vampire, we don't know, it's one of life's little mysteries!
Now, I have to say, if I were Tommy Wiseau, I would not be very happy with the book my buddy Greg Sestero wrote about me, our friendship, and My Masterpiece. However, clearly I am as bad at everyone else at understanding The Mystery that is Tommy Wiseau, because now Greg and Tommy are apparently starring in ANOTHER movie about their weird and obsessive friendship, after their partnership was rekindled by the writing of The Disaster Artist and subsequent creation of the film of the same name! So WHO KNOWS.
