The Room

What a masterpiece. I say that with full sincerity. Even after countless times watching Tommy Wiseau's 2003 so-bad-it's-good classic, I still find myself laughing hysterically during any scene the man himself appears on screen. It remains a masterclass of hilariously poor filmmaking and has garnered its cult status by making every artistic mistake possible and that, for me, warrants its eternal spot on my list of favorite films of all time.

Yet what separates The Room from every other so-bad-it's-good film is the purity of Tommy Wiseau's passion. It's evident even from the opening credits (starring, written, produced and directed by Tommy Wiseau) how big of a labor of love this is for him. He pours his heart into his performance (You're tearing me apart, Lisa!) with a similar zeal and lack of talent as his direction and writing. Yet despite financial troubles, negative critical response, and his own lack of experience, Wiseau somehow managed to produce his magnum opus through his evident love of movie-making and sheer force of will. I can't help but love The Room that much more because of it.

Ultimately, I watch films because I enjoy them—and any film that brings me joy must have some degree of quality, however unconventional. Critics point to The Room's egregiously long sex scenes, incoherent plot, or Wiseau's self-indulgent presence as reasons to dismiss it. But to me, they seem to be missing out on the sheer fun of the experience—a prospect I find genuinely saddening. At the end of the day, watching The Room isn't about evaluating good or bad filmmaking; it's about reveling in the strange enjoyment that only true passion, however misdirected, can deliver.