“What do you think?” asks Tommy Wiseau (James Franco), the pale, peculiarly dressed, raven-haired man of ambiguous age and accent at the center of the movie The Disaster Artist. “Am I villain?” The friend he’s asking, Greg Sestero (Dave Franco), has been roped into co-starring in Wiseau’s directorial debut film The Room, and might be forgiven for answering in the affirmative. Wiseau certainly has a touch of the night about him. He’s usually wearing wraparound sunglasses, his hair is draped over his shoulders with medieval flair, and his vaguely Eastern European speech patterns could be described as Dracula-esque. The first part of The Disaster Artist follows Wiseau and Sestero trying to hack it in Hollywood for a while with no luck. At one acting class, a teacher suggests Wiseau go out for more nefarious roles that better suit his look. “I’m trying to give you a shortcut,” the teacher insists. But Wiseau rejects him (and all the classmates that begin to laugh at him), yelling, “I hero, you all villain!” Wiseau—both James Franco’s character and the real-life man—went on to channel that frustration, and millions of dollars of his own money, into making an independent film that’s now known as one of the “best bad movies” ever. Considered a form of outsider art, 2003’s The Room is a mainstay of midnight film screenings around the world, inspiring a massive cult following devoted to its distinctive awfulness. James Franco, who directed and stars in The Disaster Artist—and who himself is no stranger to critical revilement—has found a special muse in Wiseau. Here is a villain, not just in appearance, but also for the myriad ways he bullied and exasperated people on the set of The Room (as documented in Sestero’s book on the making of the film, also called The Disaster Artist). Wiseau’s opus is a confusing tale that feels like an angry screed against a world he thinks has wronged him. But he still fits the Hollywood narrative of the hero—a man who kept fighting to make his art even as the industry pushed him away, and who created a piece of entertainment so singular and adored that it may never be forgotten. How many other Hollywood “heroes” might think of themselves