General Hospital's James Franco Experiment Begrudgingly Comes to a Close

Or is it James Franco's General Hospital experiment? Either way, his arc for the past two months has kept stay-at-home moms and the unemployed entranced. But Franco's role is more than just a cameo—it's a conceptual art coup.

Over the past few months, this experiment has taken some unexpected turns. First, the most unexpected one: it happened. Not many actors with burgeoning film careers take a very public step backwards like Franco did. It usually goes model—->soap opera actor—->actual actor. Expect Franco to be in Nivea for Men magazine ads by March.

As expected, eyebrows were raised, and soft snickers began to echo over Franco's decision to tackle a project like this. But what's this? It was all an elaborate ruse on an unsuspecting public? Yes! Franco flips the script on everybody, claiming it was all in the name of art. Performance art! Brilliant!

I disrupted the audience's suspension of disbelief, because no matter how far I got into the character, I was going to be perceived as something that doesn't belong to the incredibly stylized world of soap operas. Everyone watching would see an actor they recognized, a real person in a made-up world. In performance art, the outcome is uncertain-and this was no exception.

It's James Franco's world, we're all just little pawns in it scurrying hopelessly around the chess board, trying to get to the other side. And as we scratch and claw in a vain attempt to break out of James Franco's demented little experiment, what do we find out? That he has become so enamored with his General Hospital meta-mindfuck, he will use it to become a full-fledged artist. Who knew that soap operas could be a springboard to the world of conceptual art? I'll tell you who: James Fucking Franco.

And finally, it leads us to the end of the road. James Franco's final confession. Where he turns the camera on his character, a serial killer artist, and delivers the line that we wish could be captured, hurled at a canvas, and placed delicately on a bright white wall in MoMA:

"I shot a man in Tribeca, watched him die. I didn't feel a damn thing. So I turned it into art, and never stopped."

OMG, everybody not named James Franco is totally that man in Tribeca!

However, I do find it kind of funny that during the climax of a three month long performance art piece, a promotion for Super Nanny runs across the screen.