Greetings, and welcome to Earthling Cinema.
I am your host, Garyx Wormuloid.
This week’s artifact is The Room, written,
directed, and starring my time- traveling
godson, Tommy Wiseau.
The film follows human banker Johnny, who
despite everything about him, is taken seriously
by his friends.
“I’m so happy I have you as my best friend,
and I love Lisa so much.”
He lives with the apple of his eyeball, Lisa,
and they are madly in love for two scenes.
Tired of Johnny’s esophagus disorder, Lisa
cheats on him with his bff for l, Mark.
Last name unknown.
In fact, Lisa’s so done with Johnny’s
smoking hot bod she gets him drunk to frame
him for domestic abuse.
Johnny naturally denies this to no one in
particular, — “It’s bullsh*t!
I did not hit her.
I did not.
Oh, hi Mark!” — and makes his home phone
wear a wire.
At an evacuation from the womb party, Mark
and Lisa are caught swapping DNA orally.
“Why are you doing this?”
To save their relationship, Johnny announces
that Lisa is more pregnant than a dramatic
pause.
“We’re expecting!”
Lisa, of course, denies this, — “There
is no baby.”
— Johnny imitates a horse, and Mark attacks
him before he can lay an egg.
Heartbroken, Johnny locks himself in an indoor
porta-potty.
The phone rats on Lisa — “Don’t worry
about Johnny.
He’s just being a big baby.” — and they
agree to a bitter break up.
“Get out.
Get out.
Get out of my life!”
Completely done with Earth females, Johnny
sucks a glock.
The Room is a tale of duplicity and the follies
of love and trust, two things I know little
about.
The film takes many cues from classic dramas,
such as Rebel Wilson Without a Cause — “You’re
tearing me apart, Lisa!” — and A Streetcar
Named Desire Part One.
“Why Lisa, why?
Why?”
The latter of which, provided thematic inspiration
for The Room, which Wiseau acknowledges with
a lil’ wink in the cold open.
Streetcar concerns Blanche Du-byeeeee, a formerly
wealthy female who tries to hide her past,
but winds up in Arkham Asylum when her fantasy
world crumbles.
Just like Blanche, the characters in The Room
live duplicitously, often under the influence
of C-2-H-6-O. “I’m wasted.
I love you, darling.”
Lisa pretends to be a devoted lover, but in
reality, is only using Johnny for his sweet
bitcoin.
Mark pretends to be a loyal friend, when he’s
actually in bed with Lisa…
f**king.
Suggesting the soullessness that comes with
living a lie, almost all the characters deliver
their performances in a robotic fashion “Oh,
hey, how ya doin’?
Yeah, I’m very busy, what’s going on?”
-— that is to say with a battery up their
butts.
“You’re right.
The computer business is too competitive.”
The film accentuates this effect by juxtaposing
these lifeless characters with the visceral
energy of Chris R. Kelly.
Although he’s a criminal, he’s the only
character who is honest about who he is, and
therefore, he’s the only one who appears
high on life and crack.
“Where’s my f**king money, Denny?”
Just as in Streetcar, The Room centers around
a domestic location - Johnny’s apartment,
the titular “Tommy Wiseau’s The Room.”
By concentrating the action on the home, the
film focuses on the relationships that form
the sort-of conflict.
The Room takes a skeptical view of these interpersonal
intra-human connections.
Johnny appears to have a ton of friends on
Facebook, but in actuality, they’re just
liking his statues out of boredom.
“Why don’t you ditch this creep?
I don’t like him anymore.”
“I know.
He’s not worth it.”
The visual motif of a footsphere encapsulates
the film’s pessimistic view of friendship.
Although intended for camaraderie, it causes
injury to two characters.
“Underwear, man?
Come on!”
The message is clear: friendship can hurt
and mostly happens in alleyways.
Similarly, early in the film, the color red
symbolizes love and sex in the city, in everything
from Lisa’s red dress, to these red candles,
to the roses in the bedroom, to this ball
gag.
At the end of the film however, when Johnny
rips up the red dress, shoots himself, and
dies in an ocean of blood, also known as hitting
the Johnny, the color’s meaning is transformed
to reflect the eventual outcome of some relationships
and all of humanity.
In its emotional climax and sexual climax,
the film breaks the fourth wall when Denny
uses Wiseau’s real first name.
“Don’t look, Denny.”
Brilliantly turning the camera on the audience,
the film forces us to question whether we
too are deluding ourselves.
I mean, this film won an Oscar.
Right?
Didn’t it?
I mean, Crash did.
For Earthling Cinema, I’m Garyx Wormuloid.
A-ha, ha, ha.
Baiii.
