Everything about this is inept and misjudged. On paper, it is a colossal failure that we, as a society, should have forgotten by now. And yet, when it plays out in front of you, there is something about its earnestness that captivates. It’s so blithely unaware of its catastrophes that, even for a few moments, they somehow melt away from view. It is a shame that it’s so blatantly misogynistic, though. That’s the one aspect that prevents me from calling it the disasterpiece of the century. Wiseau’s issues with women can’t be disguised through his myriad other eccentricities, no matter how much we enjoy them.
The Lonely Film Critic 