Monday, 26 July 2010
Enter The Room
I am indebted to Mike in New Zealand for alerting me to the existence of this prime contender for the title Worst Movie Ever Made. I'd never heard of it before, but Wikipedia capably outlines the full fascinating story of The Room and its creator, Tommy Wiseau. The many clips of YouTube more than live up to the trailer (the roof scene 'Oh hi Mark' is especially choice). I'm sorry that Wiseau has taken to claiming the film was intended as a black comedy, as there was clearly no such intention. It stands as a telling example of what can happen when a subtantial sum of money and a movie camera (in Wiseau's case two, just to be on the safe side) fall into the hands of a man of boundless ego, raging artistic ambition and zero ability. I remember years ago sitting in some little arthouse cinema and enduring another vanity project, Chappaqua, in which one Conrad Rooks explored his drug experiences in gruellingly psychedelic style, while the likes of William Burroughs, Allen Ginsgerg, Moondog and indeed The Fugs, pop up in mystifying cameos. The score was pretty much what you'd expect of a co-composition by Ravi Shankar and Phillip Glass, both of whom no doubt lost no time in deleting it from their CVs. What's more,their score replaced the one Rooks had originally commissioned - an ear-bleeding sonic onslaught by Ornette Coleman, The Chappaqua Suite. Like The Room, Chappaqua is classified as a 'cult' - but by golly it isn't half as much fun as Tommy Wiseau's effort.