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It's hard to think of a better place to see The eroticization definitionDisaster Artist than a midnight screening with Tommy Wiseau in the house. Even in the wee hours of the morning, the energy in the room for the Toronto International Film Festival premiere of James Franco's comedy about the making of The Room—the beloved garbage classic directed by the mysterious and bizarre Wiseau—was infectious. An oversized inflatable football was batted around before things got underway. All this is to say, it's hard watching The Disaster Artist in that context without a giant smile on your face, but that would probably be the case wherever you see the giddy, fast-paced film, starring the jack-of-all-trades Franco in a meticulous performance as Wiseau. The multi-hyphenate —working with screenwriters Michael H. Weber and Scott Neustadter—turned what could have been a sour story about an unsettling, delusional protagonist into ultimately a sweet paean to the idea of making movies with friends. The former could have been interesting, but Franco goes for the heartwarming. First released in 2003 in one theater, The Roomis a saga, rife with errors, about a guy named Johnny, his best friend Mark, and Lisa, the woman that gets between them. Unintentionally hilarious—Wiseau thought he was writing in the style of Tennessee Williams—it amassed a fervent fandom, who have turned it into something of a legend. The Disaster Artistis based on a memoir of the same name by Wiseau's co-star Greg Sestero and journalist Tom Bissell, and charts how the odd-couple friendship between the aspiring actors yielded the fascinating trainwreck that in turn has brought joy to so many people.

Greg (Franco's little brother Dave) introduces himself to Tommy at an acting class in San Francisco after being captivated by the vampiric and strangely-accented man's insane interpretation of the "Stella" scene from A Streetcar Named Desire. Greg, despite his matinee idol looks, is suffering from a lack of confidence and meeting Tommy, who actually imagines one day possessing his own planet, instills a spark in him. The two move to Los Angeles where Tommy has an apartment thanks to his seemingly endless amount of money. After being beaten down by the condemning business, they decide to strike out on their own. At this point The Disaster Artistturns into a behind-the-scenes account of the lunacy of making a project helmed by a lunatic, complete with note-perfect recreations of The Room's most notorious scenes. The likes of Josh Hutcherson and Ari Graynor—two standouts in the big cast packed with stars—gleefully deliver studied interpretations of Wiseau's labored dialogue. As Tommy's behavior grows more erratic, Greg begins to see why others are so unnerved by his pal and how his dreams are being put in jeopardy as well. According to the book, this revelation happened before production on The Room ever began, and Sestero maintains he had to be bribed with a car to take on the role of Mark. Dave makes Greg a wide-eyed innocent for most of the movie, and Franco is far more reverent toward Wiseau. The screenplay largely abandons the Talented Mr. Ripley comparisons the text explicitly makes. If anything, Franco and company appear inspired by Sullivan's Travels, especially in the final scene. In a sense, the final product seems to be as much about Franco as it is about Wiseau. While infinitely more skilled an actor than the person he's playing, Franco's also known for his bold and inexplicable choices both on screen and in real life. (See: His Faulkner adaptations, Spring Breakers, all the performance art.) Inhabiting Wiseau's skin gives him liberty to be as weird as he wants to be and it completely works. Even when Tommy's actions seem cruel, Franco's interpretation brims with sympathy. Meanwhile, by honing in on what he sees as pure in Tommy and Greg's friendship while packing the movie with his actual family and friends, Franco makes the piece a many-layered commentary on the joy of collaborating with loved ones—no matter how infuriating they may be. Admittedly, the sheer number of famous faces that pop up can be a distracting. An appearance from Judd Apatow in particular—as a producer not named Judd Apatow—rings false, as does a cameo from Bryan Cranston playing himself. Still, for the most part, The Disaster Artist is remarkably uncynical. It's a glossy Hollywood ode to the people rejected by Hollywood.