James Franco, shut the goddamn hell up

One of the many things that rile me up is when actors get too big for their damn britches. Not in a George "What we do is the most important thing anyone could do" Clooney way, which is fairly annoying but kind of socially validated. What I'm talking about is when they conduct themselves like I don't remember their cinematic origins. And maybe this is unfair, because actors don't (and shouldn't) expect that everyone had 500 TV channels in high school, and so was able to soak up a lot of horrible, horrible movies. Still, acting like you've always been dedicated to some sort of artistic integrity when I saw your punk ass in Bride of Chucky is bullshit. I SAW YOU. 


A laughably egregious example of this is Mr. Lou Gossett, Jr. He appeared in a Tyler Perry trailer (and ostensibly the corresponding film) as Academy Award Winner Louis Gossett, Jr. When I saw this trailer in theatres, I immediately launched into an amused diatribe. Yes, LGJ won an Academy Award for kicking Richard Gere in the nuts and screaming homophobic insults at new recruits. But surely, surely, that Oscar no longer counts in light of his appearance in Jaws 3-D. Jaws 3-D, people, and practically nothing else between that and a Tyler Perry movie. The man didn't even have the decency to get chomped by the shark (which wasn't totally his fault - this iteration of Jaws kills exactly one person by using its teeth. The other person just kind of falls into its throat). 


There are more well-known examples, like Jennifer Aniston in Leprechaun (but she sticks to movies that are on the same quality level, for the most part), but the one currently driving me crazy is James Franco. 


This fucking guy. He's made 20 billion on-screen appearances in the past 3 years. Here's an abbreviated list: 


Spiderman 3
Pineapple Express
Nights in Rodanthe, apparently
Milk
General Hospital
An episode of 30 Rock
Eat Pray Love
Howl
127 Hours


He also published a hopelessly mundane story in Esquire, and attended some grad school classes. He is everyfuckingwhere, usually with a book or a furrowed brow, being introspective and self-satisfied. Interviewers dislodge their heads from his hindquarters just long enough to briefly mention his foray into trivial blockbuster territory with Spiderman, but quickly remind the reader that he was amazing as James Dean. 


But you know something, James Franco? I remember you. Specifically, I remember Whatever It Takes. 

Yes, I am the one person who saw that, and I remember everything. You, covered in grease and handcuffed to a bed; you, playing the stupidest person on the planet and seeming too stupid for the part; you, being called "too stiff and uninteresting." 

Coincidentally, I also remember this.

Do you remember the names of your costars, James? I do, and I know one of them went on to star in A Walk to Remember and A League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I remember that one of the best parts of the movie was Julia Sweeney, for chrissake. I remember all of this when I hear people talking about your depth or incredible work ethic. 


Sigh. 


I get that everyone has to pay their dues in Hollywood, and that nobody except John Cazale has a perfect record. But the fact that James Franco is so eager to have people praise his awesome taste because he played Allen Ginsberg and is literate while pretending he doesn't have this monstrous skeleton in his closet...it just bugs me. So if you're reading this, James - and you better be - just know that I have a long memory, and I hold cinematic grudges. I hope that sticks in your craw.