Bad Movies We Love: The Room

What do you say about the film that says it all? How can words add anything to this towering cinematic fortress of prestige? Is it wrong to "describe" senselessness? I'm a valiant first-time viewer of Tommy Wiseau's 2003 dada vortex, and I'm going to attempt to convey the whimsical hemorrhage I just experienced. Spoiler: I ain't Jill Bolte Taylor, and I won't succeed at this feat. Here's to a good effort. (NSFW!)

There's never an inappropriate time to discuss The Room, the most ironic cult sensation of the past few years, but I'll justify it anyway: Spring is here! That means it's time for someone, maybe you, to queue in the warm outdoors for joke screenings of what everyone describes as the world's worst movie. You shouldn't feel bad about it. The film's inscrutable director, writer, and star encourages you to giggle at his work; he says the unintentional humor of The Room's phenomenally senseless, laughably inept story is part of its "symbolism." And what do the symbols mean exactly? Oh, things, I'm sure.

You simply need to see The Room for yourself to get the insanity, but let's review the finer points of its characters (even though many of them are never explained and frequently appear or disappear without explanation -- yes, this is somehow more ridiculous than Mahogany).

Here's multihyphenate Mr. Wiseau as our hero Johnny. Johnny is best described as a Transylvanian Neanderthal Highlander. And a sensitive one at that. He buys his girlfriend Lisa (Juliette Danielle) a red dress, and she tries it on. Good for her. Lisa possesses the comely screen presence of an 18th-place finisher on The Bachelor.

Their friend Denny appears at the door. It's never clarified whether Denny is mentally handicapped, psychotic, or a haircut with feet, but he claims he wants to watch Johnny and Lisa in bed. That can't be possible, but the three buddies laugh about Denny's pornographic problem and have a quick pillow fight. Denny leaves. Why, you ask? Why did Denny show up randomly? Why is he a pervert during this scene and this scene only? Why did he leave so suddenly? Stop that. Stop asking why.

Just enjoy Johnny and Lisa's sensual and disgusting sex. And a '90s throwback slow jam called "I Will" that plays while Johnny packs it in. Look, there's his contracting ass moving in time with the Bryan McKnight knockoff. Oh God, it keeps going. We're four minutes into The Room, and this might be as cogent (and not nearly as disgusting) as it gets.

Hey, it's a Transylvanian Neanderthal Highlander ass. Happy lunch.

Scandal: Lisa is inexplicably bored with Johnny, and she announces her realization to her mother (Carolyn Minnott) and her friend Michelle (Robyn Paris). She's having an affair with a hot man named Mark, which is... fine? We don't care? Lisa tells him, "I like you very much... lover boy..." You'll notice everyone in The Room loves the word "very." Eventually, at a surprise party, Johnny confronts Mark in a spontaneous fight sequence that tops Mean Streets' brawl choreography by a mile. There. That is the extent of any sense in The Room. I swear it. Now, let's investigate the other 90 minutes of the movie, which are marked by the most freakishly unexplained moments in cinema history.

Utterly senseless moment #1: Lisa's mother is having real estate troubles. Oh, and breast cancer.

While Lisa's making up lies about Johnny to her mother, she interrupts to discuss her own issues. Does life-threatening disease come up again in the movie? No. Do the housing issues? No. But practice those amazing lines out loud: "Nobody wants to help me, and I'm dying"; "I got the results of the test back! I definitely have breast cancer." If you said either of those sentences with gusto, you are a star to me.

Utterly senseless moment #2: Denny is suddenly on Johnny's roof. Guess who finds him there? Correct, a jilted drug dealer.

Does Denny's drug problem come up again? No. Is that drug dealer seen again? No. Will I continue asking these questions? I can't predict a thing at this point.

Utterly senseless moment #3: Two lovers named Mike and Michelle, who apparently know the other characters, make sexy talk about chocolate. Mike's face gets un-hot really fast.

Is Mike having an allergic attack? Is the chocolate so good that he's... exploding? What if... the movie is exploding? Or did it already explode? I exploded.

Utterly senseless moment #4: Lisa's affection for Johnny depends on whether he receives a promotion. She's going to order a pizza now... in the past!

Try to describe the action of this scene. Try to remember how it begins. How it ends. How the pizza-ordering subverts the confines of the time and space.

Utterly senseless moment #5: Half of the dialogue in this movie is people greeting each other.

Oh, hi, Lisa! Oh, hi, Mark! Oh, hi, Johnny. Oh, hi, brown roots. Oh, hi, decapitated script supervisor. Oh, hi, lighting stolen from Billy Idol's "Cradle of Love" video. Oh, hi, end of days.

Utterly senseless moment #6: Every male wants to play catch. Always. Those who don't will be shunned with clucks.

It's like Field of Dreams, all these emotional games of catch. Except Kevin Costner and the White Sox have been replaced by people who can't stop greeting each other.

Utterly senseless moment #7: One of the unexplained male characters explains a scene we already saw, and he pitches the phrase "Me underwears" to Merriam Webster.

"Me: Underwears" is my first (and mysteriously, only) choice for the title of Tommy Wiseau's autobiography.

Utterly senseless moment #8: Johnny buys flowers for Lisa. It is the most unbelievable sequence of words and edits since, gosh, Network.

Forget that we have no reason to watch Johnny visit the flower shop. Marvel at the sheer speed of the dialogue and the following three feats: 1) The florist didn't recognize behemoth Johnny underneath those sunglasses. 2) Johnny greets a dog. 3) Johnny is the florist's favorite customer, which is the only thing is this movie I really believe.

Utterly senseless moment #9: Johnny is our generation's Willy Loman. (Spoiler.)

Arthur Miller forgot one thing when he finished Death of a Salesman: to make the other characters poke at Willy Loman's mangled body for minutes and ask whether he's still alive. Thanks for the rewrite, Tom.

Utterly senseless moment #10: Lisa's bored line-readings? They're tearing Johnny apart.

No, wait: I'm Tearing Me Apart is the new frontrunner for the title of Tommy Wiseau's autobiography.

That's about as much clarity as I can provide. I remember saying something earlier about decoding the "symbolism" here, but even Georgia O'Keeffe just tore herself in half at that flower scene. Piece the rest together yourself. Let me start you off: "Get out of my life, you b*tch!"