I like James Franco. He is no doubt a very talented actor and very smart academician-a PHD candidate for sure. I though he was supreme as the meth huffing villain in Home-front, the weed-dealing side-kick in Pineapple Express and as Harry Osbourne for sure. But at the helm of interpreting Cormac McCarthy's worst and most depraved screenplay onto film? This movie is utter trash. Though the actor playing Lester Ballard is truly magnificent, I still can't help but to picture him gumming and grimacing his way through his lines like the unholy impunity of a constipated Charlton Heston in The Planet of the Apes as essentially a waste of his talent. Is this character a troglodyte man-ape or a severely traumatized boy who saw his father hanged and his mother abandon him. Did we really have to see him portrayed as Ben Stiller's retarded character in Tropic of Thunder? This was a opportunity to portray a multi-layered, complex character with elements of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, developmental trauma and child abuse, driven to necrophilia. James, I respect your artistic vision, but please take a hint from The Road.
Review of Child of God
