This film would make an excellent double feature with Tim Burton's ED WOOD; however, unlike Johnny Depp's zesty and bright Ed Wood Jr., James Franco's dark and tense Tommy Wiseau is a marked contrast in ambitions and obstacles. Franco, fortunately, crosses the line of impersonation to person in his utterly captivating and convincing performance, so natural that it underscores there is NOTHING natural about Wiseau, especially when in the immediate company of Dave Franco's toothy, giggly, shy, and suggestible Greg Sestero. Yes, we've seen this sort of story before - someone without demonstrable talent making a piece of art that goes onto cult status for reasons antithetical to the artist's original intention - but we've not seen it centered on an enigma. And that's just what Wiseau is - an enigma, and an intentional enigma at that. This story is, at baseline, about ignition: Wiseau would not have made The Room had he not befriended Sestero (Wiseau is shown, often, as being indifferent, if not resistant, to the mainstream-Hollywood-LA artistic lifestyle and hustle), and Sestero, arguably, would never have left San Francisco and his dingy nowhere acting classes had he not befriended Wiseau. This is a film that takes great care in recreating many key moments of The Room, but it doesn't submerge in the slavish reporductions; like its predecessor ED WOOD, it gives each recreation context and drive, hooking each into the escalating chaos of Greg and Tommy's lives. Yes, you can do whatever you want in America, regardless of whether or not you should, but the thing for which you might be remembered could have an entirely different meaning than you intended.