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Philip Seymour Hoffman’s fade to black
Philip Seymour Hoffman wasn’t one of those ridiculously unbelievably handsome actors. He looked like a person I could know in real life, a regular guy. Unlike people I knew in real life, though, he had an unbelievable gift for pretending to be other people, for inhabiting and portraying characters for our enjoyment.
It’s a shame that, apparently, inhabiting himself was so troublesome.
Phil (I thought of him as Phil, because he felt like a normal, non-Hollywood type to me) died Sunday of an apparent drug overdose. Early reports say he was found dead in his New York apartment with a needle hanging out of his arm, which sounds like a scene from a movie.
I didn’t come to know Phil and his amazing performance skills until 2007. That’s when he blew me away in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. The entire cast impressed me, but he stood out. His character is tortured, a drug addict, someone who did something that hurt people he supposedly loved without truly thinking through the consequences of his actions and then died a sad, unexpected death.
How odd it is when life imitates art so accurately.
After hearing the news of his death on Sunday afternoon, I thought of that movie. I remember so vividly sitting in my seat after the theater lights went up, amazed by the talent I had witnessed, but also infected with thoughts about the story’s moral and ethical quandaries. I thought about that movie for days. I thought about his performance and told everyone I knew about it. I followed his career more closely from that point on.
I then thought of him sitting alone in a room, with a rubber hose strapped around his bicep and a needle dangling from his arm, the ending that is being reported. I wondered if his last moments seemed real, if he knew what was coming, or if he just closed his eyes and faded to black.
What a legacy of great films (The Savages, The Talented Mr. Ripley, Almost Famous, Doubt, The Master, and his Academy Award-winning performance as the title character in Capote, among others) and stage work (Tony-nominated performances in True West, Death of a Salesman, and Long Day’s Journey into Night).
Phil, 46, also left a legacy of three children and his longtime girlfriend. The worst part for them is that this isn’t a movie. The road they’re just starting down is difficult to say the least.
Phil’s too-short journey is over, just when it should have only really been beginning. But his long day’s journey into night is now done. What a waste. What a shame.
For another appreciation of Philip Seymour Hoffman, click here.
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