Born more than forty-six years ago, filmmaker Philip Seymour Hoffman departed from this world in his office in Manhattan, New York, just short of six hours from his birthplace in Fair Port, NY. Heroin overdose is the official cause of death. I am not writing this to criticize the recently defunct Hoffman for the circumstances surrounding his death but to remember the life that made us recognize his name in the first place.
With a total of 3 television credits, 23 theater credits, and 56 film credits Hoffman had appeared in a minimum of one film a year from 1991 and through 2014 when he’ll star in A Most Wanted Man and God’s Pocket. Hoffman earned Four Academy Award nominations, one win, and a number of accolades so big it would require at least an entire page to list. Prolific actor is an understatement when it comes to describing how active Phillip Seymour Hoffman was in the film, television, and theater industry.
Slipping from supporting character to leading man in such a seamless way is what makes him one of the most recognizable faces of the past few years of cinema. From obscure rarely seen films like, Money For Nothing and Next Stop Wonderland, to Hollywood franchise blockbusters like, The Hunger Games: Catching Fire and Mission Impossible III his career spans through many genres, budgets, and concepts never really baring a trademark or stereotyped role. He was a mold of clay that could stretch and contract with the kind of enviable range that inspires a person to give up everything and pursue a career in acting.
Most of the time we view actors as celebrities. They have such a dilated personality that comes off in interviews and magazine articles that we fool ourselves into thinking we know them. We identify them for their famous personas both off and on screen: Robert Downey Jr. is a fast talking quirky genius like Tony Stark, Emma Stone is a tomboyish girl with a deep voice and a happy-go-lucky attitude, Jennifer Lawrence likes to eat and lazy around. They become type cast and fit into a box that later on becomes their cage. When was the last time Tom Cruise stopped playing Tom Cruise? Or Jack Nicholson cared to play a role other than his own?
Philip Seymour Hoffman made sure his latest, current, and future roles were widely different because he was a real actor. He wanted to explore different facets of himself by portraying a variety of people with specific personalities, mannerisms, and goals. He wouldn’t inhabit the same character twice, instead opting to expand his gamut of roles searching for the ones he hadn’t done; the ones he had yet to learn from.
When James Dean and Heath Ledger died we, movie watchers, would mourn the rising stars for what they could’ve been. They had just started to take off when their engines exploded in an abrupt manner. Hoffman had, as listed above, acted in more than 50 roles, yet I feel the same type of sadness because of the other fifty we’ll never get to watch.