The Room

The Room

I will never forget the experience I had tonight at the legendary Music Box theater in Chicago. At midnight I saw a movie that was so immensely awful that the audience turned the screening into a public performance in which hundreds of plastic spoons were thrown at the screen, frat boys ran around the theater reenacting scenes on the screen, and in sync the whole theater yelled at the movie, as the audience in the colosseum in Rome would scream at the gladiators fighting with lions.

It was an amazing performance, audience set against the film, mocking a film they had seen so many times that they knew its idiotic lines by heart. The Room is a cult movie. Its awfulness serves as a launching pad for a communal and cathartic visceral reaction.

Set in San Francisco in 2003, The Room is the worst film I have ever seen in my life. Awful performances, especially the protagonist/director/screenwriter, incoherent plot about romantic love and female betrayal, male friendship (and maybe more than just friendship) ruined by female perversity. All set in a room in which characters come and go delivering incoherent lines.

What I experienced tonight will stay with me.

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