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a few years Ago —later than I’d like to have done—, during one of those eternal summer days in the that the tedium ends arrastrándote to the more remote corners of the internet, I discovered by chance that abomination qualifies as a one of the worst movies in history titled ‘The Room’. What they least expected in the moment of give the play button was for the horrific spectacle that was about to witness was going to root so strongly in my disturbed heart.
that Said, you can imagine the enthusiasm with which I received the news that James Franco and his select group of collaborators had decided to give their particular tribute to the tape was written, directed by and starring Tommy Wiseau in a ‘The Disaster Artist’ whose vision about the conception and filming of this cathedral of evil film has earned a niche among the best productions of 2017.
The main virtue of ‘The Disaster Artist’ lies in the care, respect and true devotion that their leaders have towards the original material and the figure of his extravagant architect. Based on the fantastic biographical book ‘The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside The Room, the Greatest Bad Movie Ever Made’, Franco and his screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber articulated an unusually sensitive and fleeting x-ray —its little more than an hour and a half seems to last a sigh— of Wiseau and the hell that was the production of ‘The Room’.
The imperfect formal treatment in the film, impersonal, and simply correct, beyond reveal that its director is still immersed in a process of maturation, there is no stick in the wheel to enjoy it as well worth. On the contrary, where it shines the filmmaker pluriempleado is in your facet interpretative, mimicking each of the tics, gestures and ravings, bodily and vocal of its source of inspiration, offering a performance so tender as hilarious and succeeding with a vengeance in the arduous task of imitating the inimitable.
The public that you do not know the history hidden behind the disastrous ‘The Room’ —or those who choose to be guided by the promotional campaign of the film— could fall into the error of thinking that ‘The Disaster Artist’ is only a comedy last more turns. And is that, once the shock to see James Franco with his mane, his lazy eye and his accent go you know where, the film showcases an amazing ability to combine laughter with moments capable of squeezing up to the more hearts stone.
Leaving aside his speech metalingüístico and his spirit of recreation, a quasi-documentary, the tape transcends the character to immerse himself fully in the person and explore the contrasts that fill the life of all romantic chasing a dream desperately, giving rise to a range in which the flavors more sweet and the bitterness more, dry, and moving to co-exist in a harmony that is practically impossible to achieve.
‘The Disaster Artist’ is, like the film on which it is built, a wonderful anomaly, imperfect in execution but unsurpassed in soul, that proves that the contemporary comedy can be synonymous with very good cinema. A brilliant exercise of empathy, which reflects on the screen to that disastrous dreamer in all of us and that he embraces us with a sincerity, a tenderness and a sense of humor second to none.
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The news ‘The Disaster Artist’: James Franco shines in a wonderful ode to the creator of the worst movie of the story was originally published in Espinof by Victor Lopez G. .
December 28, 2017
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