A Bomb Is Born

On a lazy Saturday a couple of months ago, a friend of mine suggested we watch what was described to her as "the worst movie ever made." Little did I know this would be a watershed moment in my relatively short, banal life. The movie my friend was talking about was The Room, a classic, of sorts, written, directed, starred in, financed, and produced by Tommy Wiseau, an aspiring middle-aged filmmaker with an ambiguous central European accent. Thanks to Wiseau, within 99 precious minutes I learned about life and the beauty and grace of playing extremely close-range football in tuxedos. (But mostly I learned about life.) For any of you who have not seen The Room—find a local screening, download it, raid Tommy Wiseau’s house if you have to. Just get it somehow.