James Franco's Home Tour
An imaginary walk through the actor/artist/director/writer/brother/human's house.
Much like in his film, The Interview, where he gains entry into North Korea, access to multi-disciplinary human-being James Franco's Los Angeles home is an invitation to a mysterious, perhaps dangerous place that smells faintly of Korean food. It's a modest 1970's two bedroom with an attached studio and walk in sock drawer. He settled on purchasing a pre-exisiting home only after a hired architect failed to translate his self-portrait oil paintings into workable architectural blueprints; despite this, its clear that Franco had a hand in the design of the home. Specifically his left hand.
When you first enter James Franco's residence you're immediately struck by the large mirror resting on the floor, which Franco describes as "consistently the least accurate portrait of myself." He says he despises the ignorance portrayed in mirrors. Ignorance is one of Franco's key home accessorizing philosophies. His entryway is enveloped in what he calls "an inspiration mist" but what others might call "second hand marijuana smoke."
A woman's formal kimono is displayed in the front hallway, which Franco explains was a housewarming gift from New York Times essayist Frank Rich and pop-singer Ariana Grande. "Frank and Ariana are great friends. We like to get together and play Boggle." Passing into the living room one notices that most of the apartment features vignettes of objects, sometimes piled haphazardly, these are his "project stations." An artful pile of Twilight books lay in the corner of his living room, "I read only one page at a time. It's a time-based art piece, I've been working on it for years. Don't spoil the ending." In the middle of a mid-century coffee table rests a single pineapple. "I'm adapting that into a feature film," he says casually.
The dining room consists of a modern table, a brass chandelier and Seth Rogen.
One of the largest rooms in the house is not surprisingly his studio, which is used both for paintings and Instagram selfies. The actor turned artist considers a constraint of materials a fatal downfall in his artistic pursuits, although the studio is mainly two materials: concrete and wood. Many of the new projects Franco has planned involve materials that have yet to be discovered. The open floor plan of the room gives him space to mentally construct the works.
Noticeably absent from Franco's house is a proper bedroom. "I haven't slept in 14 years," Franco explains, "if I need a quick rest I hop in my dream pod, which I bought from Tilda Swinton." The pod, which is more cylindrical in shape, is placed in the corner of the office. It's designer is unknown. Modern pieces are often placed alongside simple or found furniture, creating an intriguing environment. The mix of high and low design is intentional; Franco says the interior design was inspired from a Toni Morrison quote he found on the side of a Chipolte cup.
Throughout the course of the tour he will offer approximately sixteen cups of coffee, yet it was unclear if he owned a coffee machine. The kitchen was modest by LA standards, Franco clarifying that as a method actor he simply needs to embody the act of eating in order to feed himself; a trick he picked up on set of the 2006 Medieval romance film, Tristan + Isolde.
Having lived in the house for nearly a decade now, Franco is considering purchasing some additional property. "I'm looking for either something with a pool, something imaginary, or something in one of the hemispheres." As for particulars, he loves the simple temperament of his current house that provides a safe zone for his tantric baking, so he's looking for something similar. A door-man with an MFA would also be nice.
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