tagged w/ the room
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Somewhere deep within the annals of wretched movie-dom stands The Holy FAIL, the best worst movie ever made. In search of said cinematic bile are The 3 Guys, brave heroes like no other. If a poorly suited monster or a dangling boom mic appear on screen, the 3 Guys have seen it. They do it all for you, the bravest and boldest of movie goers. And for the money — lots and lots of money.
It’s being called the “best worst movie ever” (not that the 3 Guys, the paragons of poor film making were consulted), but can the God-awful Troll 2 possibly live up to the hype?
For the first of many FAILcasts to come, the heroic 3 Guys — Rabid Nick Refer, The Hopp and Jimbo — brave the worst-of-the-worst in their search for the all-time, most-terrible movie in cinema history.
Is Troll 2 the first film to take earn the coveted 10-out-of-10 ranking? And will you survive the special movie-inspired drink concoction (recipe below) we have prepared for you? And WHERE ARE THE TROLLS??
Listen below to find out!
http://blogs.creativeloafing.com/dailyloaf/2010/06/04/3-guys-the-quest-for-the-holy-fail-%E2%80%94-the-podcast-troll-2-starring-people-who-never-acted-again-and-no-trolls-whatsoever-with-trailer-and-special-movie-inspired-drink-recipe/Somewhere deep within the annals of wretched movie-dom stands The Holy FAIL, the best... more
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[youtube nOCMqtOCY-A]
It's almost like my dreams came true. Except my solid gold toilet seat has yet to be delivered to my apartment and that Matthew Good/Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds/Nation of Ulysses triple bill with The Shakedowns and Dismemberment Plan has yet to be announced.
But I'm sure that's coming up tomorrow.
[rifftrax]
-John Lichman[youtube nOCMqtOCY-A]
It's almost like my dreams came true. Except my solid... more
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Being a contributor for both the Arts and Entertainment and Sex and Love departments here on the The Daily Loaf can be both a blessing and a curse. Sure, the ladies think it’s hot that I get to see movies for free, but every once in a while a Bikini Royale 2: The Right to Bare falls into my lap expecting some loving.
“What is the problem Rabid Nick?” I hear you saying. “Semi-core porn FTW!” Sure, that’s all well and good, but The Rabid One is more a fan of real, dramatic films and real, doable ladies, and I feared that watching this movie would grant me neither. But being the consummate professional, I decided to take one for the team and lower my standards for Bikini Royale 2, much like I do at the bar on a Friday night after some Jack.
http://blogs.creativeloafing.com/dailyloaf/2010/02/13/dvd-review-bikini-royale-2-the-right-to-bare-all-starring-beverly-lynne/Being a contributor for both the Arts and Entertainment and Sex and Love departments... more
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Imagine that you’re in Los Angeles, movie capital of the world, ready to take in a midnight showing of that week’s massive box office attraction. Upon arrival you’re greeted by a throng of other movie goers waiting patiently in line for their own midnight showing. But these cinema fans are not there for the latest Michael Bay explosion-fest. They’re anxiously awaiting what is widely regarded as the worst movie ever put to celluloid. They’re there to see The Room.
Never heard of it, have you? The Room is the vision of writer/director/actor Tommy Wisesau, an enigmatic gentlemen of mysterious origin. On the surface, Wisesau’s film is on par with a direct-to-Cinemax feature (groan-inducing sex scenes included), but its failed execution has made The Room infamous.
The rest of the zaniness, including an interview with the man himself can be found here:
http://blogs.creativeloafing.com/dailyloaf/2010/01/19/tommy-wiseaus-the-room-the-art-of-making-a-bad-movie/Imagine that you’re in Los Angeles, movie capital of the world, ready to take in... more
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http://www.avclub.com/articles/the-room,25723/
"THE ROOM"
The Room originated as a play and a novel completed by Tommy Wiseau in 2001. He eventually decided to try to make a film out of the project. After failing to get his idea within the Hollywood system, he wrote the script himself and spent five years developing and fundraising the project independently until he could shoot it himself. Wiseau has been secretive about exactly how he obtained the funding for the project, but he did tell Entertainment Weekly that he made some of the money by importing leather jackets from Korea. He eventually amassed $6 million, all of which was spent on production and marketing.
Many lines of dialogue (especially those of Wiseau's) in the film are dubbed, with the audio often not synching to the mouth movements onscreen. The original script was actually much longer than the shooting script and contained numerous wordy monologues and more irrelevant information. The script was heavily edited on set by the script supervisor and the actors. One anonymous cast member said that the script contained "stuff that was just unsayable. I know it's hard to imagine there was stuff that was worse. But there was."http://www.avclub.com/articles/the-room,25723/
"THE ROOM"
The Room... more
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In-depth podcast analysis of the Coen Brothers new film A Serious Man - some thoughts on why it's their best film - and some strange comparisons to Amelia and The Room.In-depth podcast analysis of the Coen Brothers new film A Serious Man - some thoughts... more
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Ok, so I couldn’t wait to see ‘The Room’ tonight at my local rep cinema in Nashville. This bad film to end all bad films is supposed to be a riot, with Midnight audiences across the Country and Europe erupting in peals of laughter at its shoddy writing, one-dimensional acting, multiple plot strands that go nowhere and just all around awfulness.
I was all set, planning to be at the Screening promptly at Midnight with my Coke and Junior Mints, ready to be entertained along with what I hoped was a sold out crowd.
But earlier today it hit me: should I go? Is it right? I mean, the Director of ‘The Room’, this guy, this person, this man – Tommy Wiseau – has poured his heart out – years of his life, and, apparently, 6 Million Dollars into this thing.
So I had to ask myself, is it right to laugh at others dreams?Ok, so I couldn’t wait to see ‘The Room’ tonight at my local rep... more
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Little is known about 40-year-old Tommy Wiseau: He’s an American filmmaker with a vaguely Eastern European accent. He wrote the script for The Room, peddled it to big studios, then decided to scrape together $6 million to do the thing himself in 2003. But unlike his background or personal life, the movie—which Wiseau also produced, directed, and starred in—is known in close detail by its ever-growing cult following. It tells the story of Johnny (played by Wiseau), a regular guy from San Francisco whose girlfriend Lisa is cheating on him with his best friend Mark. Simple? Sort of. There are scenes dealing with drug use, job security, softcore porn, losing underwear, and tuxedo football. (At one point, one of the characters famously says, “I got the results of the test back: I definitely have breast cancer,” and it’s never brought up again; later, a character trips while playing football, then disappears from the film altogether.) The sets are haphazard, the camerawork is blurry, most of the actors’ IMDB pages are surprisingly barren; in short, midnight-movie audiences have been eating up The Room for years in Los Angeles. And other than his appearances at Room screenings, plus a role in an episode of Tim And Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!, Wiseau has remained in the shadows. He put out an independent documentary called Homeless In America in 2004, and began work on a TV pilot called The Neighbors, but that’s it. His film continues to gain exposure, though, and this week, screenings are cropping up in Chicago, New York, Austin, and beyond.Little is known about 40-year-old Tommy Wiseau: He’s an American filmmaker with... more
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Here is a piece I wrote for school. I'd love some feedback. I'm also curious what you guys think "they" are.
The Room by Ronen A
At least there’s a window. Some sort of escape from this place. It’s cold out there. Through the window, a field lies bitter and bare, blanketed with clean white snow. There are no trees to break the emptiness, no flaws to blemish the untouched snow, no wind to shatter the calm, only a never-ending stretch of cold thoughtless serenity. Perfect. Above, silent and still, rests an ominous mirror carelessly reflecting what lies below. The window quickly fogs with warm breath. With blank eyes, I watch my fingers slide lazily down the glass. They leave crisp trails in the fog: holes for the white emptiness outside, spaces for the space. My lips aren’t cold anymore, only numb. Another breath fogs the trails but not quite as dark as they were before. Not until the cold clears the window and with only a few smudged scars it is empty. All is forgotten. I can breathe again.
The room is small and empty. Four crisp colourless walls keep me in here. Not a door, not a lock, just blank staring walls, one linking to the next. Nothing can shake the silence of this room, not a heartbeat, not a voice. There isn’t much to do but walk: mindless step after step. The strides leave nothing behind, the floor always remaining as empty as the walls around it, the room always remaining as silent as the cold that confines it. I could pound on the walls but there would be no noise from my bloodless hands. I would think of a way out, but that wouldn’t make much sense. No, it doesn’t work that way. You empty the room when they let you go. Then you’re free.
Most people eat. Good or bad, what you find on your plate you eat. Consistent and mechanical, we hunger, we chew, we swallow, and we hunger again. Most often it is an empty automatic process: broken, crushed and forgotten. At times, we are forcefully distracted from the monotony, stopped to think about that which we consume: by moving disgust or by haunting delight. In here, I am hungry. My sunken stomach starves, frozen in the cycle. It is hollow and unfed but from the void it makes no sound, takes no pain. I hunger for nothing.
You meet them quite young but you never forget them. Each captor unique but many the same. Some are kinder than others. Some are monstrous and loud, some are unnoticeable. Some attack with searing red hot knives, the most painful, no doubt, but their invisible scars are the quickest to fade away. Some are very useful. Some are boring. Some I’d like to get to know. Some I just can’t recall. But none will, for a second, let you go. Those that make us human, are the ones that confine us. They elevate us and they trap us: the cage on our arrogant perch. They are inescapable intangible jail-keepers. They are thoughtful yet they make no judgement, impartial in their confinement. It’s not their fault, really. They don’t have a choice and neither do I. Neither do we. From them, we are destined forever to never be free.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be let go. Nothing to confine me, this room forever behind me. To scream, to run, to leave marks in the snow. Unchained. Empty and complete. Free to go nowhere. But I guess that’s why I’m still here. Not kept by bars but by them - the one thing I have any of. Even if I do get out, it’s only to go to another room as empty as the last. My time will last as long as the snow does stretch. This room, I will get out of, but from this place I will never be free. As long as the window stands, I will stand behind it. It is all in my mind.Here is a piece I wrote for school. I'd love some feedback. I'm also curious... more
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RonenA
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added this
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3 years ago
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