One conversation, that is all it would take. Our main characters, surprisingly successful bank employee cum Euro-trash face transplant Johnny (the multi-hypenated and minimally talented Tommy Wiseau) and his borderline plump diabolical dream gal fiancé Lisa (Juliette Danielle), simply needed to sit down and talk out their obvious relationship issues, and everything would be right with the romantic world. He would see what a conniving and manipulative biz-nitch she truly is, and she would…well, probably have a hard time understanding his forged behind the Iron Curtain accent. Still, a little interpersonal palaver might have saved them - and anyone desperate enough to view their cracked kitchen sink drama - from the 100 minute nightmare known as The Room. As with most of what this abysmal movie stands for, the title makes about as much sense as the dozens of dangling (and still unresolved) plot threads.
Wiseau, who wrote, directed, produced, conceived, and still-bore this fascinating disaster is a money making maverick, his lead’s key career profile having something to do with savings and/or loans. His Johnny is so flush with the green stuff that he can keep the lumpy Lisa living in a swanky part of San Francisco (the apartment itself looks like a poorly furnished studio set - which it is) and also provide former adoption candidate, now wimpy college student Denny (Philip Haldiman) a place to live in the same building, as well as his full tuition. He is constantly buying is beefy beloved flowers and cheap hooker dresses, and while apparently swamped with important work, he always has time to hook up with BFF Mark (Greg Sestero) and toss around the pigskin. Of course, what our swarthy hero doesn’t know is that Lisa no longer loves him, she is telling everyone within earshot of same, is planning on halting their upcoming wedding, and now has her mad cow eyes (and loins) set on seducing Johnny’s bud. Why? Well…um…because, after all, she deserves it?