It's been two weeks since I first received the news of Philip Seymour Hoffman's death, and only now have I really been able to put anything in writing about it. Most celebrity deaths are just blips in the day, which creates a momentary feeling of loss, or a bit of time remembering their career and the great things they did which you enjoyed. Sometimes you give it a bit more thought, perhaps even purchasing an album on iTunes, or watching one of their films on Netflix. In a few cases, you feel bummed out about it for a while, particularly if they were relatively young and perhaps still had a few great things to do left in them, or if you were a big fan of their work, and were just sad to see them go, even if they hadn't done anything at all for decades.
A rare few, however, really affect you.
Before I continue, a bit of perspective. I've never cried when hearing about the death of a celebrity*. No matter how much I admired or enjoyed their work, no celebrity death creates the level of loss that a death of a family member, friend, neighbor, or even beloved pet would create.
That being said, there are just some deaths that stick with you. These rarely tend to be those of people who have lived long, full, interesting lives. I feel bad about Peter O'Toole and Pete Seeger dying, because it means we can only speak of them in the past tense now. However, they lived long, interesting lives, full of great work to cherish and remember.
Hoffman, however, was only 46 years old. He should have had 20, 30, or even 40 more years of work ahead of him. Yes, he leaves behind a prolific set of work on both the stage and screen, but once the films he already performed in are released, we will never get that charge of seeing his name in the credits. We'll never get a chance to see him perform on stage again, a place where he was apparently just as riveting, if not more so, to watch than on at the movie theater. Never again will he make a bad movie watchable, a watchable movie good, and a good movie great.
His death, like the also premature death of James Gandolfini last year, hits doubly hard because Hoffman was "one of us". By no means ugly, he wasn't the chiseled image of a Hollywood star. Like many great character actors, he was able to use his indistinct looks to his advantage. So many times he was able to disappear into the character he was playing.
The great thing was his ability to shine, no matter the size of the part. Whether he was one of the leading characters, such as in
Synedoche, New York, a major supporting character such as his L. Ron Hubbardesque character in
The Master, or just in a few scenes, such as his turn as Lester Bangs in
Almost Famous, he was memorable. Hell, he's about the only thing I remember about the mostly forgettable
Along Came Polly**. Quite frankly, his casting in
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire is the only real reason I decided to watch that film. I'm glad that he finished most of his scenes for the next two, even if it sounds like one scene may have to be fudged considerably to work without him.
In honor of this wonderful actor, and the memories he's given us at Doctor Strangeblog, this week we'll be doing a special Philip Seymour Hoffman edition of the DVD Case Pantheon. I'll bend the rules for this week, having two challengers (
Punch Drunk Love and
The Master), as well as two posts about films already in the pantheon (
Magnolia and
Synedoche, New York). Along the way, there may be a few other surprises as well.
Unless you are a young child, or refuse to watch movies made after 1990, you've likely seen at least one of his films. If you have, I would recommend you seek out more. I still have a bunch to get to, despite enjoying him in many movies, several of which are either in my pantheon, or itching to get there. For example, I've yet to see
Capote, the movie that won him an Oscar. Many of his films are available via streaming on Netflix, and most of the rest are available via disc.
*The closest I came was when I heard about Roger Ebert. Despite his illness and other health issues, it still seemed like such a shock.
**That and the introduction to me of the word "shart". Which was in large part due to the memorable performance of Hoffman, whose character in the film spoke the line containing the word.
