‘The Room’ is 10 Years Old, and It’s Still Gloriously Terrible
I loped down the theater steps, tailed by several friends, as a giant, pulsating mass of theatergoers shouted at decibel levels that, along with the adrenaline pumping through us, rendered the movie inaudible. As we reached the bottom, we spotted several other audience members scavenging a graveyard of plastic spoons, which had been thrown at the screen whenever a picture of a spoon appeared in a scene. As I stuffed precious ammunition into my pockets, heinous cries of “Spoon whore!” and “We don’t want your kind around here!” poured in from the front row. Everyone began beaming their spoons at us. We were showered with spoons. “Good, more ammo for me,” I thought greedily, and giggled maniacally. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Never in my life have I been so happy to be called a spoon whore.