James Franco Needs To Chill Out

Spring Breakers
Spring Breakers

I don’t know if you all have seen the trailer for the upcoming movie Spring Breakers, but you should take a minute to go watch it. I think the real draw is supposed to be the Disney Girl gone wild-esque inclusion of Vanessa Hudgens (who knew she was still alive??) and Selena Gomez, but it’s impossible to take your eyes off the mess of cornrows and Florida white trash accent that is James Franco while watching it. (Is he doing a parody of Riff Raff or am I losing my mind?) As with so much of what he does these days, it seems like yet another performance piece — much like his stint on that soap opera — which involves “acting like he’s acting,” because it’s funny/interesting/cool to remove yourself another degree from the sincerity of your work. Or something.

I hate to use this word, as it pretty much no longer has any meaning in modern society, but he just seems like such an enormous hipster. Like, we get it, you’re unique and thoughtful and not some run-of-the-mill hot movie star. You go to college and write poetry and think important thoughts and are not like your average Chris Evans type who fills his time between movie sets with grating cheese on his abs and letting a single drop of saliva dangle from his open mouth while wind blows through his cavernous, empty skull. (Note: This is what I imagine James Franco believes about other hot young movie stars. I would never insult Captain America in such a way, as that would jeopardize my chances of one day getting to eat whipped cream off of his pecs.)

James Franco’s every move seems so calculated and strange, and his choices in both acting and his other artistic/intellectual endeavors have become so insane as to be exhausting. Now, when I hear that James Franco only sleeps for two hours a day because he divides his time evenly between doctorate classes and writing haikus on a rocky Portugese beach, I just let out an enormous sigh and want to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. I don’t want to deal with his intentional weirdness anymore, nor his lackluster persona when it comes time to actually be enthusiastic about things (see: his quaalude-induced stint as an Oscar host).

Essentially, Jimmy is just that douchey 19-year-old who’s taken one intro to philosophy class and now has really important thoughts about life and relationships and art and emotions, and can’t find enough outlets to contain his special snowflake syndrome. He likes to dabble in everything without actually being too invested in anything — because not being separated by at least one shade of irony isn’t cool — and you just want to slap him mid-sentence to get him to stop talking about Proust. He is exactly that guy, except, like, 30 and a millionaire.

Come back, reasonably-normal-James Franco. You were awesome in Pineapple Express and 127 Hours. I believe you could be awesome again. TC mark

Chelsea Fagan

Chelsea Fagan founded the blog The Financial Diet. She is on Twitter.

Trace the scars life has left you. It will remind you that at one point, you fought for something. You believed.

“You are the only person who gets to decide if you are happy or not—do not put your happiness into the hands of other people. Do not make it contingent on their acceptance of you or their feelings for you. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if someone dislikes you or if someone doesn’t want to be with you. All that matters is that you are happy with the person you are becoming. All that matters is that you like yourself, that you are proud of what you are putting out into the world. You are in charge of your joy, of your worth. You get to be your own validation. Please don’t ever forget that.” — Bianca Sparacino

Excerpted from The Strength In Our Scars by Bianca Sparacino.

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