Man, reading about this dude brings me back. A couple years ago during a stint at one of New York's premiere coffeehouses in the NYU area, myself and my giggling fellow employees were all treated with James' presence on and off for about 6 months while he took a class in a nearby building. Superhero arch-nemesis by night, scruffy college student by day, the guy was nothing short of a trip everytime he waltz in. The girls would swoon, the guys would stutter and make fun of the girls who swooned. He'd literally come in looking extra terrible at times, get something normal to eat and drink, take a seat on the couch and knock out for hours. It was hilarious. People would just stare at him as he slept with his gaping mouth wide open. I can't front, I probably did too. It's kind of cool to see this millionaire Hollywood guy be so fucking stupid looking and normal haha. There was however that one time after he'd already starting doing the Gucci ads that he came in on a rainy day wearing one of the sickest Gucci trenchcoats I've ever seen. That was one of the last times I saw him. Anyway, that's my James Franco story. All jokes aside he seemed like a genuine and good dude. NY Mag does this pretty lengthy profile on him if you care enough to take a gander.
Movie star, conceptual artist, fiction writer, grad student, cipher—he’s turned a Hollywood career into an elaborate piece of performance art. But does it mean anything? A critical investigation, with bathroom break.