I had no idea what I was getting myself into with Deadbeat at Dawn. Five seconds in, I had to pause and check that Tommy Wiseau hadn’t somehow played a role—such is the sheer chaos of its opening moments. But unlike The Room, this isn’t incompetence wrapped in cashmere; it’s guerrilla cinema powered by pure, unfiltered passion. Jim Van Bebber writes, directs, edits, stars—and probably did the catering too.
It’s scrappy, bloody, and often ridiculous, but it moves—like The Warriors if shot on stolen cameras after a bad trip. Where Wiseau threw money at the problem, Van Bebber used ingenuity and madness to plaster over budgetary holes. The result is violent, anarchic and weirdly beautiful.
The acting’s ropey, the plot’s barely there, and yet it works. Not in spite of its flaws but because of them. Deadbeat at Dawn isn’t just a cult film—it’s a punch to the face.