Spend a weekend with me, and you’ll come out of it knowing two things:
- Yes, I really do consume that much sugar.
- I don’t know how to count.
- I love Tommy Wiseau.
He’s like Orson Welles, if Orson Welles lacked the raw talent as a writer, director and actor. However, what Wiseau lacks in natural ability, he more than makes up for in sheer hustle and pluck. I love him. He is a national treasure. Which nation he belongs to, I’m unsure, but dammit, he’s some nation’s Grace Kelly, Alfred Hitchcock and Charo rolled into one.
Which brings me to a conversation had on the back end about two weeks ago. The gang here is in the habit of talking to each other, in part because we all genuinely like one another. Talicia and Nika are both geeks like me, so it’s easy to talk anything from Star Trek to dystopian fiction. Our esteemed guest, Dan Pollitt, is, like me, a huge fan of Wiseau’s The Room. Dan’s gone one better, having attended multiple live viewings and even some personal interaction beyond the usual autograph signing (his stories are epic, they are Dan’s to tell, and I am incredibly jealous). He asked if I had seen the trailer for the new Tommy Wiseau/Greg Sestero vehicle, Best F(r)iends. No. I had not.
I need to share this. The rules here kind of operate like The Ring: if I have to watch it, you do too, and you have to share it within seven days lest Samara comes out of your television screen to stare at you.
I don’t know where to begin. The blood. The lifts Tommy’s wearing. The preserved state of Sestero’s face. The plea on cardboard for $4 to buy karate lessons to get one’s kidnapped family back from ninjas (poor Dan has heard this marveling. I owe him beers. Yes, that’s plural.). SOLD. If there are multiple shots of Alcatraz in this film, I think I will scream like a toddler that’s just been told that The Wiggles are in the next room. I don’t care that it’s not written or directed by Wiseau. I need to see this. I have but six words:
Shut up and take my money.