One minute James Franco is America’s Renaissance man, writing poetry to commemorate President Barack Obama’s second term; writing the screenplay for, directing and acting in the adaptation of William Faulkner’s seminal novel, “As I Lay Dying;” and garnering an Academy Award nomination for his role in Danny Boyle’s breathtaking film “127 Hours.”

The next minute, he is America’s stoner clown, playing the giggling Saul Silver in “Pineapple Express,” botching his night as the host of the Oscars and then laughing about it with Stephen Colbert in the role of his twin brother, “Frank Jameso.”

It’s a confusing dichotomy that the viewing public and Franco’s critics have struggled with throughout his weird ride to the top of Hollywood. At some points, he has come under fire for his supposedly egotistical artistic enterprises, the main thought being that his pursuit of multiple master’s degrees in fiction writing and film, as well as his Yale Ph.D. are just a way for Franco to validate his artistic abilities and keep the spotlight on himself.

At other times, especially while hosting the Oscars, he’s accused of goofing off, taking his craft less seriously than he should and wasting his artistic talents on cheap comedic pursuits and weed humor. It’s a split opinion on whether he is “James Franco: self-indulgent artist,” or “James Franco: lazy goof-off.”

The fact of the matter is that he’s both. More importantly, he’s an actor who refuses to believe that he has any particular responsibility to the public. Instead, he has recognized that his fame, combined with his talent, gives him the ability to ostensibly do whatever he wants, provided he’s ready to be criticized for whatever it is that he wants to do. He’s the rare actor who’s willing to make a complete fool of himself and play with his image in his art.

In an era when celebrities are under the scrutiny of the public eye and every mistake and poor decision they make draws harsh criticism, Franco makes a game out of toying with the public’s perception of him. In an interview with Bullett magazine, he reflected on the fun he has with the perception.

“Maybe a part of it has to do with self-obsession. But it’s also about using this weird thing that is a public persona as raw material for creative projects,” he said.

Consider his role in the soap opera “General Hospital.” For the role, he had two requirements: His character had to be a performance artist, and his character had to be insane. The character he played was a serial killer artist named Franco. He then turned around and repurposed footage from the show and used it as the basis for an eerie film titled “Francophrenia,” in which an actor (Franco) mixes up his soap opera persona with his actual persona and becomes a serial killer.

Franco has played games with the notion that he’s lazy, as well. When he drew the ire of UCLA students for backing out of his commencement speech at the university just nine days prior to the ceremony, he and the Harvard Lampoon made a video mocking his cancellation and parodying the public perception of him as a blundering, egotistical actor.

In the video, a possibly inebriated Franco goes off on a sardonic tirade about his greatness as an actor and his incredible influence on the gay rights movement, thanks to his role in the film “Milk.” He’s not only mocking himself but also mocking the reverence our culture gives actors.

At the moment, the most talked about image of Franco is his appearance in his newest film, “Spring Breakers.” In the film, he swaggers around as absurd rapper Alien, sporting cornrows and a shiny metal grill that punctuates his sinister smile. To play the role, he emulated the equally ridiculous Houston rapper Riff Raff (so well, in fact, that Riff Raff openly complained about the resemblance).

He totes guns, wears Hawaiian shirts and embodies the film’s attempt to examine the darkest parts of a hedonistic culture that seeks out quick fun and good times, as well as pop culture’s ridiculous image of what that culture is.

In short, it’s Franco doing what he does best — using performance and parody to point out the absurdity of our perceptions.

Write John at [email protected].