The Disaster Artist review – James Franco’s ode to bad film-making is a riot | Film

One of the overriding questions one has while enduring a particularly awful film is, with all of the talented out-of-work film-makers in Hollywood, just how on earth did this get made? Did no one take the time to really read the script? Couldn’t someone spot the signs during production? Didn’t anyone try to burn all available copies of the film before it limped onto the screen? There’s a certain sadistic pleasure in not only watching a “so bad it’s good” movie (a hobby that’s grown in popularity in recent years) but also to explore the tortured story behind the scenes.

It’s especially fascinating when the finished product emerges in total earnest, seemingly produced by a team of people blissfully unaware of the horrors they have inflicted on an audience. Not many films conjure up this playful curiosity quite as much as 2003 oddity The Room. It’s a small budget…

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