I’ve just been informed that we MUST go see 127 Hours. Turns out my husband has something of a boy crush on James Franco. Apparently it all started after he read an article about Franco in The New Yorker. The article was written just before Franco started his PhD in English, and just after he opened a show at the Museum of Contemporary Art in LA. In the spirit of Paul Auster and John Malkovitch, the actor plays himself as a performance artist in a permormance piece. But there’s a third performative level: the work centers on the casting of Franco as “Franco” in the soap opera, General Hospital. It’s not hard to read a critique of the Hollywood star system, kitsch melodrama, and the commercialization of avant-garde art here.
The short article is definitely worth reading (in fact, now I might have a small crush too).
But don’t worry. I’m not at all threatened about being in competition with Franco for my husband’s affections. I’m a hell of a lot closer to finishing my PhD than he is. But if that f-er finishes his in less than 8 years, I’m in big trouble.