Which James Franco will show up at the Oscars?
Hosting the Oscars is the logical next step in the career of James Franco, in that it's another predictably unpredictable move for a man striving to simultaneously be Hollywood's hardest-working -- and oddest -- actor.
On Sunday, Franco will co-host the 83rd Academy Awards with Anne Hathaway, and is also up for Best Actor for a gritty tour de force performance in "127 Hours."
After Ricky Gervais' wicked celebrity-shredding performance at this year's Golden Globes, the tandem of the sweet Hathaway and handsome Franco may seem like a safe, but bland, choice.
But if the Academy wanted safe, it could have picked any of a dozen other pretty boy actors (Jake Gyllenhaal, perhaps?) for the job.
Instead, the usually stuffy organization picked a wild-card in Franco, who seems as likely to pull an Andy Kaufman and read slam poetry to the audience as he does to deliver an earnest and professional performance.
Consider the strange -- and unique – career of Franco, 32. After the Oscars, where will he show up next? Obviously, on the long-running soap opera "General Hospital," reprising his role of "Franco," a serial killer/artist who seems to have a lot of say about the blurry lines of performance art.
"He's seriously good-looking, but very weird," a character says about "Franco."
And that's not even the weirdest career move Franco (the actor) has made in the last year.
This fall he will teach a documentary editing class at Columbia College Hollywood called: 'Master Class: Editing James Franco . . . with James Franco.' It's like taking a religion course where the professor is literally God.
And that's on top of numerous other Franco art projects, all seemingly aimed at deconstructing the fact that he appeared in all three blockbuster "Spider-Man" films.
He's one-half of a performance art-duo with themes that lean towards disturbing sexuality. He unveiled a multimedia exhibit on "Three's Company" at Sundance. His short stories have been published by Esquire and McSweeneys (he's writes OK . . . for an actor). He's taken to education like a meth addict, completing a degree in English at UCLA in two years, and is following that up by enrolling in four graduate schools in the New York area. He's now at Yale, taking a PhD.
In 2010, he appeared in five different films, not including documentaries and short films for school.
"I haven't slept in two years, I am doing so much stuff," "James Franco" said in a "Saturday Night Live" skit this month.
But it wasn't that long ago that Franco was just a pretty face with a disarming smile.
Ten years ago, Franco was the latest Hollywood newcomer earning comparisons to James Dean due to his easy-to-the-eyes looks and smoldering intensity (winning a Golden Globe playing James Dean in a biopic helped, too.)
His role as Peter Parker's best friend (and later frenemy) in the "Spider-Man" flicks launched him into teen heartthrob territory, which still follows him around to this day.
During last September's Toronto International Film Festival, I covered the "127 Hours" premiere and was taken aback by the teen girls who were both screaming "Marry me!" and "I love your poetry!" at a bemused Franco.
But Franco's career was almost derailed after he appeared in several box-office bombs ("Flyboys", "Annapolis") that failed to cement him as a leading man, and not just the "Spider-Man" guy.
The mocking self-referential thing has gotten carried away over the past few years with TV shows such as "Curb your Enthusiasm" and "Extras" featuring numerous actors willing to send up their image for a laugh.
But few worked it with the effort Franco did, whose "Acting with James Franco" videos on "Funny or Die," satirized his over-the-top intensity towards his craft.
Since those videos started appearing in 2007, along with a little help from his "Freaks and Geeks" boss Judd Apatow, Franco's career has taken off -- in every direction.
Franco's approach is decidedly post-modernist to the point of meta-absurdity. In his acting, he is all things, attacking both the high and low-brow with the same approach. He plays stoners ("Pineapple Express", the upcoming "Your Highness") with such aplomb, most assume he is one (he claims to be drug free). Random cameos in films such as "The Green Hornet" or "Date Night" that make you go "Huh? Why, Franco?" do little to help in this regard.
Then there is his consistent attraction to gay or bisexual roles ("Milk," "Howl") and his queer-friendly art, which has led to speculation about his sexual orientation.
In typical Franco style, he appeared on "30 Rock" as himself . . . trying to hide that he was in love with a Japanese body pillow. It was a clever nod to widespread rumours about his sexuality that certain actors who may have starred in films such as "Grease" or "Top Gun" would never consider going ahead with.
You have to give Franco credit, for being in on the joke. But he's not a joke, when he probably should be, and you have to give him credit for doing that too.
There's a balancing act to being James Franco, which seems to be the only balancing act in his overly-packed life. One Oscar nomination equals forgiveness for appearing in "Eat Pray Love."
Appearing in ridiculous online videos counters the pretension of being a short story writer and making "performance art."
Being "Franco" on "General Hospital" – well, that makes up for him being boring on Twitter and any other future sin.
There was a time where actors were typecasted by the answer to this question: "Can you take me seriously in this role?" Jim Carrey has spent the last 15 years asking audiences that.
But Franco has made that question moot in his career. He's beyond identity. He's James Franco, definitively indefinable, and will do what he wants, and audiences will accept it.
And that makes the Oscars worth watching this year because you have no idea what you are going to get.
But you do know Franco will bring that trademark intensity to the Oscars, ensuring the grittiest hosting performance ever. Just ask him what he thinks.
"You know what? If it's the worst Oscars show ever, who cares," Franco has told Vanity Fair.
Uh, well then. That's classic Franco for you.
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