James Franco: His greatest performance yet?

Has James Franco's slightly ....ermmm.... odd behaviour over the past few months been an elaborate hoax?

According to The Wrap, a year-long documentary analysing Franco is nearing completion. 

Beary suspicious: Franco cozies up to a furry friend.

"What have you done?...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" James Franco is 25, starring in Sam Raimi's much-maligned Spider-Man blockbuster, playing tormented soul Harry Osborn. Peter Parker's alter ego has just snuffed out his characters father; Willem Dafoe looking uncomfortable as the overly camp Green Goblin, prompting this raging outburst. He is a bright light, out-shining comparable co-star Tobey Maguire, a fresh face with dark good looks and oozing charisma. The year then was 2002, yet here in the present, 12 years later, his legions of fans across the globe are shouting at the same words at their laptops and tv screens, as news breaks about his alleged attempt to woo an underage fan over Instagram. 

Emerging in the cult, Judd Apatow produced Freaks and Geeks in 1999, Franco was picked up for Spider-Man after director Sam Raimi was impressed with his audition "I thought he was an incredibly talented young man, and a little smug. But as I got to know him, he only improved as an actor, and I saw him come out of his shell a little bit more" He appeared in the franchise for its next two outings, before erupting in 2008, where he acted alongside BFF Seth Rogen in the enjoyably haphazard stoner comedy Pineapple Express A month later, he appeared as Sean Penn's lover in the eponymous biopic picture Milk. Currently, the pinnacle of his still fledgling career is Danny Boyle's brilliant claustrophobic thriller 127 Hours, a performance that tested his abilities to their fullest, being able to hold an audience; in a canyon, his arm trapped by a rock, for over an hour, with an Oscar nod shortly following.


His talent is unquestionable, his star quality considerable. On the 13th May 2014, The Wrap broke the story that first-time director Lisa Vangellow had been shooting an account of his experiences since June 2013, with the movie entitled "Franco: A Documentary" Fairly typical so far, its obviously not uncommon for filmmakers to shadow or produce informative work on fellow auteurs in a documentary capacity (see Hearts of Darkness and Room 237) especially after his rapid rise. However, the past year in the Californian natives life will give Vangellow an abundance of material, with some seeming almost too good to be true for the UCLA graduate director.

Franco in his latest film, Palo Alto,
  an adaptation of his own novel. 

16th November, 2013. England's Rugby League team secure a place in the World Cup Semi-Final after a 34-6 victory over France; Ed Miliband's was left red-faced after his emails were leaked, in which he heavily criticised Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer Ed Balls, and James Franco posts the first in a series of extremely bizarrely half-naked selfies. The modern age "self-portrait' photograph is not going to get the red-top tabloids heart racing, but this snap featured a deranged looking Franco, half-naked, with it simply titled "all the kids are doing it" A plethora of the pictures followed, with a particular highlight being the actor sporting what looks like a BDSM version of a Batman costume, captioned "50 Shades of Batman and Robin"


Next we lurch from the amusingly strange to the down right troubling. After a performance on Broadway in classic Steinbeck work Of Mice and Men, Franco began an apparent attempt to seduce 17 year old Scottish fan girl Lucy Clode over Instagram, after she had tagged a photo of him on the social network site. The toe-curlingly embarrassing exchanges featured Franco asking if he should "Rent a room" and whether Clode "Had a boyfriend" The age of consent in New York state, worryingly enough, is 18 years of age. Franco brushed away accusations, demeaning his actions whilst using buzzword littered phrases such as "I'm embarrassed" and "It was a case of bad judgement." in an interview, shortly after the news broke, on Fridays Live with Kelly and Michael. Whilst this grubby incident was fairly nauseating enough, two things became apparent. The date of his sordid chat-up saga? April 2nd, mere hours after April Fools Day. His new film release? Palo Alto, in which his character is a football (or soccer, if you will)  coach who seduces a schoolgirl. Vangellow must of been rubbing her hands together in anarchic glee, her subject was apparently imploding over the internet for the world to see, in highly fortuitous circumstances for her.

Franco's Ground Zero: The first of the selfies. 

Franco's pet project Bukowski, has now finished shooting and was scheduled for a release in late 2014. The film, which he wrote with younger brother Dave and he himself will be taking up directing duties, focusses on Charles Bukowski semi-autobiographical novel Ham on Rye. Cyril Humphris, who claims he owns the rights to the book, is in the midst of an intense legal battle after Franco's rights to adapt the text expired in 2010. According to the claim, Franco simply ignored this legal precedent and shot the film anyway, understandably enraging Humphris in the process. The performer has also been involved in the courts with former teacher at NYU, Jose Angel Santana, after Franco's previously outspoken comments over his teaching ability and apparent attempts to use the "Bully pulpit of his celebrity to to punish anyone who doesn't do his bidding" The actor has turned into a defendant.


Clearly, Franco currently appears about as likeable as Ashley Cole at a Girls Aloud concert. Yet, despite this, no one is willing to address the elephant in the room, who is desperately tiptoeing to avoid detection. One has to ask, is this unusual, seemingly out-of-character debacle over the past year an elaborate performance art piece? Do Vangellow and himself have us all fooled for this upcoming film? The now infamous I'm Still Here, in which Joaquin Phoenix was able to deceive everyone by stating his intention to quit acting and move into a hip-hop career. He and his brother-in-law, actor/director/writer Casey Affleck, were able to produce a project that even this day has critics arguing of its authenticity as a documentary or simply a performance driven art film. That movie dealt with a vast amount of controversial incidents associated with fame, including mass prostitutes, drug-taking and Phoenix defecating on an unsuspecting gentleman (okay, maybe that was a bit much) Is Franco conjuring up something similar with a year long tirade of apparent breakdowns?


Franco, whilst speaking at the Institute of Contemporary Art in London in July 2012, touched upon that film and the effects of celebrity status "I have this private persona that I present to my family and friends" he stated "and then there is this public persona that is created from the things I do, and from different outlets and how people perceive what I'm doing" Talking about Phoenix and Afflecks film specifically, he expressed "Joaquin was acting in such a way that the repercussions were real, Letterman (David, the victim of the now notorious interview in 2009) and others were responding in a certain way" Still not sold? In February 2013, "The Grandmother of Performance Art" Marina Abramovic also announced she had plans to shoot a film of the polymaths life, with the two collaborating before on previous art pieces. The film has yet to see the light of day, but slight investigation in the stars background digs up these supposed conspiracy theories. Has he, just maybe, given the best performance of his life? Has he convinced the world to believe in a fabricated celebrity image? Like Harry Osborn and his Green Goblin alter-ego in 2002, could James Franco have his own split personality?

"Her" review

Theodore Twombly (Phoenix) enjoys the rays.

DIRECTOR: Spike Jonze

CAST: Joaquin Phoenix,
             Scarlett Johansson, Amy Adams,
             Rooney Mara, Chris Pratt

RUNTIME: 126 minutes

PLOT: Set in an unspecified future,

             lonely writer Theodore (Phoenix)

             embarks on a relationship with 

             his new Operating System 

            (Johansson)

SPIKE JONZE IS ANYTHING BUT A 

CAUTIOUS FILMMAKER. A quick consultation with the auteurs IMDb filmography shows an unexpected amount of diversity, coupled with the sheer mass of content from which the diminutive writer/director can hang his hat on. Minor acting roles in Moneyball and The Wolf of Wall Street rub shoulders with Jackass appearances. Direction for music videos range in genre, from R.E.M to Tenacious D. His last feature, Where the Wild Things Are was an imaginative and daring film, pleasing critically but performing poorly commercially. His latest offering, Her, is sweet, funny, serious and symbolic, where Jonze adds another string to his ever increasing bow. 

Love at first sight between Theodore (Phoenix)
and Samantha (Johansson)

With Shanghai doubling for a postmodern Los Angeles, Jonze's contemporary fable examines our relationship with technology and a possible over-reliance on it. It is not hard to see parallels in this created universe, where people wander aimlessly, with sophisticated operating systems substituted for iPhones, Xbox Ones traded with hologram gaming devices, pine trees replaced with uninspiring video screens sporting scenery. An environmental activist himself, Jonze and his Director of Photography Hoyte Van Hoytema (Let the Right One In, The Fighter, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) light the film expressively, with vibrant colours, computer screens and LED bulbs illuminating Phoenix as he potters around his darkened apartment in the film's first act, with Arcade Fires score bubbling throughout these scenes. Emblematically, as his new muse encourages him to dream and move from his comfort zone (Physically and metaphorically), we see beautiful blood Los Angeles horizons mingle with Rocky Mountain-esque fjords, as Jonze juxtaposes the modern with nature. The directors little seen short film, I'm Here, is his most similar previous outing in tone and story, where a isolated robot (voiced by Andrew Garfield incidentally) tries to find companionship on the sun bleached, east-coast city of the United States. 

Divorcee Theodore Twombly (Phoenix) is a character impossible not to root for. Lonely, mildly depressed yet warm hearted, with his only emotional feelings found in his job, which consists of writing "Beautiful Hand-Made Letters" that people have grown too apathetic to print themselves. He wanders through life, uninterested with existence, rebuffing friends and potential dates, with a failed one (a brief Olivia Wilde) only exacerbating this helplessness more.  Craving emotional contact, after a contemporary, nauseating yet humorous attempt at online sex chatting, he installs a new sophisticated operating system named Samantha (Johansson) partly out of these isolated needs. Jonze keeps the story at a quick pace throughout this first act, often adhering to staple relationship signposts, with a "first date" to the funfair both endearing and fulfilling. This trend carries on as Theodore introduces his new cyber-partner to friends, in particular Amy (Adams), in an understated role that mirrors Twombly's current circumstances in more ways than one. Rising star Chris Pratt provides excellent support as a co-worker who embraces his colleagues lifestyle choices, even participating on a quirky double date with the odd couple.

Theodore (Phoenix) and Catherine (Mara) in happier times.

Joaquin Phoenix is a man inspired. After his bizarre stint out of acting to film faux-documentary I'm Still Here, he has roared back with The Master, bringing his darkly simmering rage so often synonymous with his characters. Here, he grounds Twombly, giving him a big, aching heart and a touching quality after a devastating split with a lifelong love (a cold and conflicted Rooney Mara) which is told through an assortment of deceptively vague flashbacks. A writer by trade, he smarts of Byron, Shelley and Wordsworth, desperately trapped in a pit of self inflicted despair. The sheer logistical aspect of developing a romantic story without acting opposite a person is masterfully done, with Phoenix taking this challenge across his checked-shirted shoulders. A pained expression or look of longing expressing more than a thousand words could. Scarlett Johansson, performs admirably, giving a genuine human quality to a box of wires and lights. Due to her husky and distinctive tones, we are able to form an image of Samantha in our minds due to prior knowledge, as she (it, thing?) begins as a naive and impressionable android, who grows to become the most important aspect of Theodore's world. By the end of the picture, the viewer not only stops questioning the morality of a relationship with a robot, but viewing it as extremely beneficial for our muted protagonist.

At 126 minutes run time, the story lags and feels a tad bloated. By the beginning of the third act, the film threatens to reach a conclusion with a definitive end, but this is bypassed quickly as Twombly frantically tries to keep his house of cards from toppling, extending the picture significantly. Amy Adams and Chris Pratt, although excellent performers, sometime feel tacked on without successfully advancing the story. The actual finish of the movie leaves the viewer begrudgingly found wanting, with its ambiguous tone not giving closure, advancing quickly and far too soon. His previous relationship is thinly sketched, with no insight offered as to why a marriage could so disastrously fall apart, despite the inclinations of the volatile and unstable Catherine (Mara) But then again, how many relationships have ended without closure or arriving unexpectedly? After reflection on a finished romance, the viewer is left with the extremely good memories, only slightly tinged with the bad ones.

VERDICT: Spike Jonze effortlessly crafts a parable underlayed with a variety of subtle undertones. Phoenix and Johansson provide one of the most original screen romances in modern history, yet both deceive charmingly and delightfully.

"12 Years a Slave" Review

Solomon Northup (Ejiofor)
faces the horrors of slavery

DIRECTOR: Steve McQueen

CAST: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Michael Fassbender,

            Benedict Cumberbatch, Paul Dano

RUNTIME: 134 minutes

PLOT: Solomon Northup, a free black man 

            living in upstate New York in 1841,

            is kidnapped and sold into slavery in

            Louisiana

FILMS THAT EXPOSE THE TRUE HORRORS 

OF SLAVERY ARE HARD TO FIND. Last years 

Oscar challengers Django Unchained and Lincoln 

touched upon the violence and cruelty surrounding 

this abominable practice, brought crashing down in

1865, yet they were movies that had altogether 

different focus.

12 Years a Slave is the third major directorial outing of Steve McQueen, following his harrowing account of the Northern Irish freedom fighter Bobby Sands in Hunger and the sex addiction picture Shame. Casting his actors seems like a thoughtful process for McQueen, a director who is infamous for demanding and bringing the best out of his performers whilst simultaneously tackling extremely traumatic subject matter. In Chiwetel Ejiofor, he has catapulted an actor; who has been around the fringes of the mainstream, firmly into the spotlight. 

Patsey (Nyong'o) pleads with Epps (Fassbender)

Ejiofor portrays the transformation of Northup, initially a naive, free African-American, captured into slavery by false promises of a job offer; who initially believes that his friends and family in the North will wake him from a hellish nightmare and restore him to his former life, personified by his outburst of "I will not allow myself to fall into despair!" to a grieving mother, separated from her children. However, after witnessing unlawful killings by apathetic racists, torture by cruel masters and forced into physically and mentally debilitating labour, despair is exactly what befalls him, so beautifully portrayed in a scene where he resists joining in on a morose slave song, only to break and tearfully belt out its melancholic tune.

It is reductive to say that one man's experience represents entire generations of men, women and children sold into captivity, but in Northup's true account, McQueen finds a narrative that represents a vast amount of the hardships felt. Lured to Washington DC on promises of a job in the circus to utilise his supreme talent on the violin, Solomon is drugged and sold to blaise slaver, (Paul Giamatti) prodding and examining his on display slaves as if they were cattle, who then auctions him on to genial plantation owner William Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) Despite his morality being good, a man who treats his property with kindness and respect, every act of compassion he distributes towards Northup has an underlay of unintentional cruelty, such as presenting him a new violin and stating "May it bring my household years of happiness"

After being sold onto another plantation owned by Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) McQueen begins to expose the true brutality of the stereotypical slave owner. From his whipping Patsey, (Outstanding newcomer Lupita Nyong'o) a captive he has a emotional obsession with, to Northup coming close to death by lynching from a sadistic overseer (Paul Dano) the Brit director does not shirk away. Holding excruciatingly long shots, with Solomon dangling helpless, whilst terrified and desensitised slaves simply ignore the barbarity and continue their tasks, he achieve the viscerality he craves. In addition, a whipping scene with the camera circling around the bloodshed, leaves the viewer shell shocked, exactly as the inhumanity of slavery should do. Sean Bobbitt's cinematography manages to alleviate some of the tragic atmosphere, from the dazzling white cotton fields to the burning embers of Solomon's abandoned letter, which could have provided an escape.

Solomon and his fellow victims in the fields.

Ejiofor will almost certainly be up for an Oscar, yet his co-star Fassbender could also share the stage with him, as his turn as Epps almost threatens to steal the show. Malevolently misguided, he adamantly growls that the slaves are his property and his savagery is his prerogative. Radiating hatred, the film gradually peels away his character layer by layer until his flaws are exposed for the audience to witness. Confusion surrounding his love for Patsey, dominated by his Lady Macbeth-esque wife (An underused Sarah Paulson) he descends from villain into farce after aptly falling flat in the mud whilst trying to assault Northup.

Fassbender oozes violent tension as McQueen draws us in, we wait for him to lash out, by use of overextended pauses in the dialogue, particularly in a scene where he confronts Solomon after an attempt at escape. The cast as a whole is exemplary, with a minimalist role for Brad Pitt (whose production company Plan B partially funded the film) as a fervent abolitionist working on the Epps estate, with whom Northup begs for assistance.  Eventually, that escape comes but not in the sense we expect, drawing a close to a deeply moving, unflinchingly raw film. 

VERDICT: McQueen delivers yet again, pulling no punches in an abrasive, at times uncomfortable to watch, film. More horror than historical biography, despite its accuracy, expect this to contend at the Academy Awards.