The Disaster Artist
Page 31
Tommy got his publicist on the phone. “Ed,” he said, “I need you to make sure spotlight is shining! Make sure there’s big line out front. Lots of people! We want a line or we don’t pull up.” Tommy had told his publicity team to fill every seat in the theater. Okay, I thought. Let’s assume they did that. The thought of Tommy sitting among an audience expecting to be shown a serious drama was not, to say the least, a comforting one.
The limo pulled up to the theater, but in Tommy’s mind there weren’t enough people outside to merit stopping. So we went around the block. It was a busy Friday evening: This was a serious commitment to traffic endurance. We passed by the theater again and again Tommy told the driver to go around the block. On our final approach, I saw most of the cast waiting outside, behind red velvet ropes. “Stop!” Tommy said.
The Room posters taped on every window allowed everyone in the cast and crew to guess who was sitting inside that limo, but Tommy didn’t want to get out quite yet; he instructed the driver to stay in his seat and leave the limo idling. “We need to build the anticipation,” Tommy explained to Kat and Karen.
Outside, I saw Dan Janjigian and Don standing with Scott Holmes, Philip, Robyn, Carolyn, Greg Ellery, and Juliette. A few members of Tommy’s various crews were there, though neither Sandy nor Kyle Vogt had been invited because, in Tommy’s mind, they’d abandoned him. Scattered among the cast and crew were family members, friends, and a whole mess of people to be filed under miscellaneous, all of whom Tommy’s publicist had recruited.
Tommy finally opened the door of the limo and stepped onto his red carpet to actual cheers. Tommy kept his shades on and did his best to impress Kat by strolling past everyone in an aloof manner. I headed directly toward Philip and Scott, both of whom were yelling “Gregorio!” Don came over and greeted me with a friendly smile. “Digging the long hair, man,” he said as we walked together into the lobby. “By the way, did Tommy hire escorts?”
“Not that I’m aware,” I said, watching what appeared to be an Elvis impersonator entering the theater in front of us. Once inside, I could guess what had probably happened. It appeared that Tommy’s PR people had called a character casting agency—more than one, from the looks of things. That’s how they’d filled the seats. They might as well have requested the entire citizenry of the Island of Misfit Toys.
The first five rows of the theater had been reserved for the cast and crew. I took an aisle seat, which I hoped would allow me to quickly duck out during the love scenes. Kat sat to my right, with Tommy next to her. Juliette, Philip, and Don were in front of us. Right after we sat down, Don turned around and said, “Oh, by the way—I checked online. This is going to be on your IMDb for the rest of your life.” I offered Don a courtesy laugh, after which he went back to munching his popcorn.
Ed Lozzi, Tommy’s publicist, a beefy guy in a tan sport coat, stepped to the front of the theater, microphone in hand. He briefly introduced Tommy to the audience before inviting the auteur himself to take the stage.
Tommy stood up. He did not look well. In fact, he looked petrified. Big beads of flop sweat had gathered on his forehead and he made no effort to mask his discomfort as he approached the stage. He kept his sunglasses on. This was the first time I’d ever seen Tommy nervous. He was completely devoid of the bravado he’d always had in front of an audience. His hands trembled as he raised the microphone to his mouth. He paused for a moment, too overcome to speak. When he tried, there was only a faint stuttering sound. The audience became very still. Then, at last, Tommy managed to say something: “This. This is my movie. This is my life. I hope you learn something and discover yourself.” He made a hang-loose sign with his free hand. “Be cool,” he mumbled, before handing the microphone back to Ed. On his way to his seat, Tommy stopped, put his hand on my shoulder, kneeled down, and said, “I’m happy you’re here. I could never do project without you.”
“This is my life.”
The Room’s premiere was testament to Tommy’s unrelenting drive and determination. He’d inflict his vision on the world whether the world wanted it or not. He was a movie star whether the world saw it or not. In getting here, Tommy had sometimes been destructive and sometimes cruel. But how could I—how could anyone—not be moved by Tommy, who’d fought so hard against the unforgiving confines of his star-crossed life? The Room, I already knew, was a lot of things. A bad film, a funny film, a bizarre film, a glorious film, a vain film, an absurd film, an incompetent film, a powerful film, a fascinating film, a disastrous film, an independent film, an inexplicable film, and finally, a brave film. Sitting there in the theater, I let myself feel proud of Tommy, who believed his movie was a first-rate emotional drama that contained all his most profound ideas about life. In that regard, The Room was Tommy, and is Tommy—a man who remains the grandest and most sincere dreamer I’ve ever known. This is, ultimately, what redeems his immensely conflicted and complicated darkness. In the end, Tommy made me realize that you decide who you become. He also made me realize what a mixed blessing that can be.
Although I knew Tommy’s film wasn’t going to be received the way he wanted it to be that night, I hoped he’d be able to recognize how incredible this experience really was. When I looked over at him, I couldn’t help but see a vision of the young boy who peered through a movie theater’s cracked door in Eastern Europe, newly in awe of life’s possibilities.
Tommy removed his sunglasses and glanced back at me. He had tears in his eyes. He smiled, nodded, and turned toward the screen. It wasn’t often that you got to see a man whose dream was literally about to come true, but then the lights went down, and I couldn’t see him anymore.
Acknowledgments
Richard, Marie-José, and David
Tom Bissell
Jim Rutman
Heather Schroder
Trish Todd
Molly Lindley
John Hughes, RIP
Brad Pitt
Jonah Hill
Paul Rudd
Kristen Bell
David Wain
Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim
Justin Long
David Cross
Patton Oswalt
Paul Scheer
Michael Rousselet
Scott Gairdner
David Nelson
Elias Eliot
Justin Robinson
Clark Collis
Entertainment Weekly
Kate Ward
John Cassaras
Alex Pardee
George Gross, Ned Martin, and Alec Gross
Ashleigh Erwin
Greg Deliso
Anthony Remedy, Fionn Kidney, and Una Mullally
Gregory Lynn and Paul Vickery
Tom Ranieri
Gavin Hogg
Paul Collins
Roger D. Hodge
Adrienne Miller
Gideon Lewis-Kraus
Dan Josefson
Rob Auten
Trisha Miller
Juliette Danielle
Dan Janjigian
Kyle Vogt
Greg Ellery
Robyn Paris
Philip Haldiman
Carolyn Minnott
Scott Holmes
Marcus Winslow Jr.
Patrick Jagaille
Anthony Minghella, RIP
Billy Wilder, RIP
About the Authors
© MICHAEL DAR
Greg Sestero is an actor, producer, and writer. He was born in Walnut Creek, California, and raised between the San Francisco Bay Area and Europe. He is fluent in both French and English. At the age of seventeen, Greg began his career in entertainment by modeling in Milan for such designers as Valentino and Armani. He went on to pursue acting, and appeared in several films and television shows before costarring in the international cult phenomenon The Room. Greg’s many passions include film, sports, nutrition, animals, and traveling. Greg now resides in Los Angeles.
© HENDRIK DEY
Tom Bissell was born in Escanaba, Michig
an, in 1974. He is the author of several books, including The Father of All Things and Extra Lives, and his work has been awarded the Rome Prize and a Guggenheim Fellowship. More recently, he cowrote the script for Gears of War: Judgment. He lives in Los Angeles.
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Copyright © 2013 by Greg Sestero and Thomas Carlisle Bissell
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First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition October 2013
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Designed by Akasha Archer
Jacket design by Will Staehle
Jacket photographs © Shutterstock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
The disaster artist : my life inside the room, the greatest bad movie ever made / Greg Sestero, Tom Bissell.
pages cm
1. Room (Motion picture) I. Bissell, Tom. II. Title.
PN1997.R57565S47 2013
791.43'72—dc23
2013008798
ISBN 978-1-4516-6119-4
ISBN 978-1-4516-6120-0 (ebook)
Photo Credits:
Photograph courtesy of the author: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 32, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42; Photograph courtesy of Kyle Vogt: 18; Photograph courtesy of Greg Ellery: 19; Photograph courtesy of Michael Rousselet: 30; Photograph by Shawn D. James: 31; Photograph courtesy of Alex Pardee, http://eyesuckink.com: 33; Photograph by Theo Lyngby: 34; Photograph by Elias Eliot: 35; Photograph courtesy of Francis Sheil: 36