I recently received James Franco’s latest short film, entitled La Passione, which he filmed for Vice. The description of which describes it thusly:
The VICE premiere of “La Passione” provides you lucky viewers with a decadent and beautifully shot trip that riffs on Theodor Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc (if The Passion of Joan of Arc was shot on acid and starred the ATL Twins as demons). The film features Franco himself, alongside the beautiful Natalia Bonifacci.
I considered a review, or even an attempt to describe it, but I soon realized that the kind of art James Franco strives to create exists at such a basic, sub-verbal, or perhaps even sub-molecular level, that to review it would be akin to trying to give a “thumbs up, thumbs down” grade to the big bang; an attempt to define the wings of a butterfly. Like existence itself, there is no message, no lesson beyond that which you create from it. It simply “is.” So instead, I offer a real-time account of the film, which you can watch below, in the hopes that my attempt to understand James Franco’s art will mirror every organism’s quest to come to terms with own existence. Eez poetry. Eez beautiful.
Black and white. Slow motion. A gently-blowing breeze. Two model-esque women share a kiss and some yearning set to Sigur Ros (I think?) music. The yearning far outweighs the kissing. So much yearning. The passions.
Fade to Title.
Day of the Dead figurine. Still slow motion. A crowd lays the figurine on the ground and place flowers on it. A funeral for a day of the dead figurine? James Franco walks in in a tuxedo with a model on his arm. She’s wearing an extremely low-cut shirt. Sigur Ros or whatever is still playing.