Technically, The Room is not defined as a horror film. Yet, as I watched, I waited with mouth agape and with intense anticipation as to just what aberration I would witness next. And isn't that, by it's very definition, what horror should be?

Perhaps you may have read the Entertainment Weekly piece on this cult oddity a few years ago. Perhaps you live in Los Angeles, where you were transfixed by the haunting gaze of its billboard (a curious headshot of the writer/director/lead Tommy Wisesu, resembling Christopher Walken after a stroke), or maybe you're a fan of Adult Swim's Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! where Wiseau popped up in a cameo.

But without having witnessed the film, without having its images sear your retinas and dialogue puncture your eardrums, you cannot fully appreciate just how perversely addictive and frighteningly fun this film is.

Look, some critics get their rocks off by panning others' endeavors.  I'll admit sometimes it feels good to take a bloated blockbuster down a notch or two, but independent film is a different beast. Tales behind them are usually filled with blood, debt and jeers in order to get their vision seen, and if you squint you can perhaps overlook whatever flaws their tiny budget could not wipe away.

But there is a level of ineptitude so profound, so otherworldly in almost every frame of The Room, that viewers can only feel like they have a lawn chair right next to a giant oil slick on the Autobahn.

And it's rush hour.

Characters enter and exit the eponymous area without warning, incongruous lines and story arcs are expelled into conversations like rancid farts, and are also avoided like them for the rest of the film.

Vows are made, then broken, then forgotten, erratic accents and behavior are never explained, new sexual orifices are apparently discovered as one character seemingly humps a navel.

On and on it piles like some glorious post-modern art piece of mangled dialogue, twisted logic, bad hair, lumpy skin and spontaneous outbursts of catch.

Trust me, the less you know about the actual content of this film, the more wonderfully demented surprises await.

It's as macbre and sordid as anything you'll see from the likes of Craven and Carpenter. The difference is, this was clearly not what the makers of The Room had in mind.