Welcome to February, friends, the month in which the first few sights and sounds--and smells--of honest-to-goodness baseball abound. It's that time of year when bat and ball withdrawal delirium combined with eternal fanboy/girl optimism can lead one to say things like, "I really think this is the year that Ryan Sweeney finds his power stroke," and the other fans around you will politely put their hands over their mouths to hide their smiles. Note that by May this will turn to outright pointing and laughing, and by August to angry screaming and neckpunching.
But that's not the lead story of this DLD. No, the lead of this DLD refuses to be buried. Ever since 2003 it has lurched and shambled through a pathetic unlife that would be pitiable if it weren't so horrifying and vomit-inducing. I speak, of course, of Tommy Wiseau's The Room.
Our local alternative theater on the northwest side in Portland ("alternative" = serves microbrews and wine) changes its lineup of movies fairly often. Sometimes they offer older fare like Mary Poppins, other times it's the indie darling of the moment. But the one constant on the marquee is Wiseau's gripping story of friendship, love, betrayal, and weird misogyny. (Warning: Like all the following video links, here there be swears).
No, your Interwebs aren't broken; the movie really is that bad. In fact, it's been called the "Citizen Kane" of bad movies. The inappropriate laughter and bad dubbing are only part of the equation. Wiseau (lead actor, producer, writer, director, etc.) also gives us a Johnny Galecki wannabe who may or may not be addicted to drugs, heart-wrenching melodrama of the highest order, and a hard-hitting cancer revelation that is mentioned once and only once.
The upshot is that the movie has attracted a cult following, which is why our theater has a screening at least once every month. In much the same manner of Rocky Horror, people show up dressed as their favorite characters and are encouraged to interact with the movie and with one another. I was skeptical about paying money to see a trainwreck, but I came away thoroughly satisfied. It's a lot of fun when you have an enthusiastic crowd (and booze), and I highly recommend it if it's heading your way.
(The DLD title comes from hyah, because I couldn't get the Swede out of my head as I listened to Wiseau attempt English).
== NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT ==
First things first, ladies:
For our sole sort-of-baseball-related item, Rob Neyer's last column for ESPN is about a man--nay, a hulking excellence-pissing mangod--that nearly everyone from my childhood idolized: Tecmo Bo, the greatest digital athlete of all time. (BTW, welcome, Señor Neyer).
Moving on to the footsballs, the Poz begs for the end of the NFL pro bowl, and as usual he is 276% correct.
National signing day approacheth in college football, and the question on everyone's mind: Just how much will Auburn pay top recruit Jadeveon Clowney, and will they pit him against Barkevious Mingo in a name awesomeness battle to the death?
From the AV Club, I guess I wouldn't want people to remember my early work either. Also from the AV Club, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Kristen Bell are getting new series. "F*** yeah!" reports high school me and college me, respectively.
Now, dump. Dump, I say!