Darien Campo | Designer

On Jan. 8, the 2017 Golden Globes had a new guest in attendance from previous years.

As James Franco took the stage to accept his award for best actor, he brought with him Tommy Wiseau, the very man he is lauded for portraying in “The Disaster Artist.” For most, Wiseau is an unrecognizable name. But to his legions of cult-like fans, seeing him onstage was a beautifully surreal experience.

In 2003, Wiseau released his magnum opus “The Room,” a film he wrote, directed, produced and starred in. During its two-week box office run it barely made $1,600 of its estimated $6 million budget back before it dropped from the big screen. But over the past 15 years “The Room” has slowly built a sizeable, rabid fanbase to the point that it is now the subject of one of the year’s most popular comedies.

Filmmaker Ross Morin famously called “The Room” the “Citizen Kane of bad movies.” And that’s what “The Room” is known for — being a bad movie. But that label never really sat right with me. There are plenty of bad movies in the world, hundreds of them are released every year and you’ll never even hear about them. Some flop tremendously and then burn out into obscurity. It feels weird to compare a “bad” film like “The Emoji Movie,” which will most likely be forgotten in ten years; to “The Room,” which continues to sell out theaters across the globe 15 years after its release. “The Emoji Movie” is a bad film, but it’s doubtful it will have any long-lasting cult appeal as “The Room” does. So what sets Wiseau’s film blunder apart from all the other “bad” movies that collect dust on Netflix year after year? To me, films like “The Room” don’t quite fit into the “good movie, bad movie” dichotomy; there’s something more here.

“The Room” is an inept film, for sure, but I think what helps it stand out above the rest is the passion behind it. I believe that “bad” movies like “The Room,” “Troll 2” and “Plan 9 From Outer Space” stand out not solely because of their missteps, but because of the passion of the filmmakers behind them.

Passion is one of the most defining qualities that makes a film stand out. While “The Room” famously stumbled on the delivery of nearly every single aspect of what we have come to expect from a movie, it is Wiseau’s passion for his film that makes it worth watching.

If a “good movie” is defined by its success, and a “bad movie” by its failure, then the continuing success of filmmakers like Wiseau makes no sense. I have a different metric I like to judge movies by: “passion vs. pander.”

It’s a difficult quality to define, and perhaps can only be guessed at in retrospect. Did the filmmaker tell their story thinking “people are going to love this idea,” or were they thinking “I love this idea”? It’s not an easily quantifiable method of examining movies, but it has given me insight into my own work. Because of movies like Wiseau’s, as I work on my own projects I am constantly asking myself “Am I making this decision for myself, or for the audience?”

We want to make work that is honest. Not only to others, but to ourselves. And for all of its failures, “The Room” is one of the most honest films you will ever see. There’s a wonderful freedom in watching a movie made with equal parts unbridled passion and outright blunder.

Filmmaker Ed Wood famously spent his whole career feverishly making movie after movie after movie, convinced he was destined to be a great filmmaker. His first film, “Glen or Glenda,” is an extremely personal tale about cross-dressing from a filmmaker who was one himself. It is a terrible movie, and the first in a long line of terrible movies; each made with equal love and passion as the one before it. His 1959 sci-fi horror “Plan 9 From Outer Space” is now one of the biggest cult films of all time. Ed Wood’s passion gave life to a filmography full of lifeless duds.

Is it fair of me to say that films like “Suicide Squad” are made with pandering and not passion? No, of course not. That’s not my place. But I think it’s a worthwhile discussion to have. A film like “Assassin’s Creed” succeeds in most aspects technically, it is a competently-made film; but had an overwhelmingly lukewarm reception. “The Room” fumbles nearly everything it tries to do as a film, but is now the subject of a hugely successful book and now film adaptation.

As an artist, there are worse things than making bad art. Bad art can still be successful, it can still speak volumes to an audience. What’s most important is that you are honest in your art. Create with passion, create for yourself, and create without shame.

For insight into the type of people who make these terrible movies, I recommend Michael Stephenson’s documentary “Best Worst Movie.” A film about the cast of “Troll 2” as one by one they learn that their film flop from 20 years earlier has become a cult hit. Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood” and now James Franco’s “The Disaster Artist” explore these B-movie heroes as well.

“The Room” will be forever remembered as a bad movie, but there’s nothing wrong with failure. For me, I’d rather fail spectacularly than make something that’s just “alright.” Look through last year’s 5-star rated films sometime, you’ll be amazed how many you’ve already forgotten ever existed. Sometimes a one-star rating can be just as good as a 10.

Contact the author at dcampo13@wou.edu

Photo by: The New Yorker