Much like karaoke or clubbing, The Room is not an event that should be experienced either alone or sober. So much of the show's allure is derived from the bizarre form of camaraderie that develops through mocking such a dreadful movie that it would be a real shame to go along without a friend, or at least a cheap bottle of wine. Indeed, many of loudest laughs of the evening were provided courtesy of (quite tipsy) jokers in the audience, whose constant lampooning of Tommy Wiseau's baby proved hilarious and surreal in equal measure.
Now, if you haven't come across The Room before, explaining why it proves such a ripe target for humour is a challenge. On the face of it, it's one of the most abysmal films ever made. The acting is so wooden several of the characters unwittingly come across as borderline deficient. The plot - such as there is - is shot through with non-sequiturs. One memorable moment has a woman tell her daughter she 'definitely has breast cancer', only for this life-changing news never to be mentioned again. Wiseau himself - who directed, wrote and starred in the movie - rattles out his lines in a dubious foreign accent and engages in bizarrely long and explicit sex scenes with his girlfriend (who, surprise, surprise, is having an affair with Mark - Tommy's best friend).
Fortunately, for all this, the whole experience is greatly improved by the cult status the film has acquired over the past few years. Dedicated fans cheer on the hapless Wiseau and wisecrack at the expense of the hammy characterisation and extended panning shots of San Francisco, the film's setting. Watch out for the barrages of plastic spoons fans intermittently chuck at the screen - a reference to the fact that all the picture frames in Wiseau's house still contain the stock photo of a spoon that no one had thought to replace. Suffice to say, going to see The Room makes for an odd night out, but one that should be experienced at least once. Just remember to bring a spoon.