In defence of James Franco | Little White Lies

In defence of James Franco

10 Jan 2017

Words by Victoria Luxford

Fantastical illustration featuring figures in abstract, organic shapes and forms amid swirling, colourful patterns and textures.
Fantastical illustration featuring figures in abstract, organic shapes and forms amid swirling, colourful patterns and textures.
Is the much maligned actor actu­al­ly the most under­rat­ed per­former of his generation?

The com­e­dy release of the hol­i­days was Why Him?, the sto­ry of a lov­ing father (Bryan Cranston) appalled by his daughter’s new boyfriend (James Fran­co), a tat­tooed, inap­pro­pri­ate tech mil­lion­aire whose efforts to impress his poten­tial in-laws leads to trou­ble. It’s famil­iar ground for Fran­co, whose pen­chant for pay­ing lov­ably out­landish char­ac­ters has pro­pelled him to star­dom. That’s not to say that he is a one-note per­former, though, and to sug­gest so would be to under­val­ue one of the best actors of his generation.

At the start of his film career, Franco’s roles veered more towards mat­inée idol than class clown. He made his ear­li­est appear­ances in fam­i­ly-friend­ly stu­dio fare like Fly­boys and Sam Raimi’s Spi­der-Man tril­o­gy. But then, a lit­tle over a decade after mak­ing his screen debut in the short-lived TV series Pacif­ic Blue, came Franco’s mem­o­rable per­for­mance as Saul Sil­ver, the chaot­i­cal­ly charm­ing weed deal­er in David Gor­don Green’s 2008 com­e­dy Pineap­ple Express. An affa­ble goof with good inten­tions who proves to be the cat­a­lyst for most of the film’s mishaps, the role intro­duced the moviego­ing pub­lic to what would become Franco’s defin­ing onscreen per­sona while set­ting the tem­plate for future per­for­mances in Your High­ness, This Is The End and the head­line-grab­bing satire The Inter­view.

Easy though it is to over­look his nat­ur­al com­ic abil­i­ties, it’s ulti­mate­ly telling that this stage of his career saw Fran­co take on sev­er­al high-pro­file dra­mat­ic roles. Released the same year as Pineap­ple Express, Gus Van Sant’s Milk saw Fran­co right­ly win plau­dits along­side Sean Penn’s por­tray­al of gay rights cam­paign­er Har­vey Milk. Franco’s sup­port­ing turn as Milk’s lover, Scott Smith, helped to tell a dif­fer­ent side of the sto­ry, show­ing the strain of shar­ing your roman­tic part­ner with the cause. Cru­cial­ly to the devel­op­ment of this cen­tral rela­tion­ship, Fran­co uses a sad smile in order to hide Smith’s pain just beneath the sur­face, reveal­ing more about their doomed love affair than any dia­logue could.

If the role in Milk came as some­thing of a sur­prise, Dan­ny Boyle’s 127 Hours pro­vid­ed anoth­er reminder of Franco’s ver­sa­til­i­ty and tal­ent. This adap­ta­tion of Aron Ralston’s true sto­ry, based on his har­row­ing expe­ri­ence of being trapped under a boul­der in the Utah desert, pre­sent­ed the per­fect chal­lenge for both direc­tor and star. For Boyle, it was a chance to test him­self after the suc­cess of the crowd-pleas­ing Slum­dog Mil­lion­aire with a stripped back, sin­gle loca­tion nar­ra­tive. For Fran­co, it was a role that left him with nowhere to hide; the film would live or die on the strength of the actor’s gru­elling (prac­ti­cal­ly) solo turn.

And rise to the chal­lenge he did. Franco’s Oscar-nom­i­nat­ed take on Ral­ston is an easy­go­ing thrill seek­er with a cav­a­lier atti­tude towards his own sur­vival skills – that is until he is faced with a life-threat­en­ing sce­nario. The inci­dent in ques­tion forces him to re-eval­u­ate his own iso­lat­ed exis­tence, mak­ing escape not only a mat­ter of life and death, but also redemp­tion. It’s a mas­ter­class of intro­spec­tion, once again under­pinned by the actor’s abil­i­ty to under­play sit­u­a­tions. Instead of ago­nised mono­logues, Ralston’s predica­ment is summed up in one sur­re­al scene in which he inter­views him­self, ask­ing why a man so expe­ri­enced in res­cue sit­u­a­tions would not call any­one before dis­ap­pear­ing on his trek. His bare­ly audi­ble Oops” is like a silent scream, a moment of self-real­i­sa­tion and mor­tal ter­ror rolled into one.

A year lat­er, the Fran­co-led Rise of The Plan­et of The Apes kicked off arguably the most suc­cess­ful reboot of mod­ern times, and then came Har­mo­ny Korine’s Spring Break­ers, where the actor is unrecog­nis­able as the racial­ly appro­pri­at­ing gangs­ta’ Alien. Speak­ing about his pro­fes­sion, Fran­co has explained that, as an actor it’s my job to serve the direc­tor. I’ve accept­ed that now. In some ways it feels like a craft rather than an art form. Sure I had some free­dom of inter­pre­ta­tion, but I feel like I’m serv­ing some­one else’s vision.” For now at least, the admit­ted­ly juve­nile antics of Why Him? rep­re­sent a rever­sion to the onscreen per­sona audi­ences are most famil­iar with, fol­low­ing as it does parts in The Inter­view, The Night Before and Sausage Par­ty.

Still, it’s slight­ly unfair to think of James Fran­co first and fore­most as an actor capa­ble of rais­ing a chuck­le. With a slew of intrigu­ing sound­ing projects in the pipeline – includ­ing his own direc­to­r­i­al ven­tures, Zeroville and The Dis­as­ter Artist – per­haps it won’t be long before this pro­lif­ic actor is more wide­ly regard­ed as one of the finest per­form­ers of his generation.

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