I’m not going to speak to the manner of Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s death. I find that unnecessary. I am going to speak about his accomplishments in his 46 years of life that ended too early today.
He is one of the greatest actors of this century. He brought us such memorable roles as Truman Capote, Father Brendan Flynn, and Lancaster Dodd. What makes him one of the greatest actors of this generation is his dedication to his roles. He immerses himself.
He doesn’t have to changes his voice, or his appearance, there is something underneath that makes its way to the surface and takes over his body. He becomes a different person.
He may not have been a household name in every house, but in my house he was a cherished part of American cinema and theatre. He rarely took roles in blockbusters, although his most recent turn in The Hunger Games: Catching Fire could qualify him as such. Even then, he opted for films like Doubt, The Master, and Synecdoche, New York. These are films that I watch and make me believe in the magic of movies again.
Phillip Seymour Hoffman was a man that truly embraced his art. This year, the world of cinema lost a giant.
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