The Wall Street Journal is reporting that Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his Manhattan apartment. He was 46 years old.
This is a tough one to process. To call him one of the greatest actors of his time would be selling him short - Hoffman allowed himself a level of vulnerability that was perhaps unprecedented; in many of his best roles he was a raw, bleeding mass of insecurity and pain. But because he was a great actor many of his other best roles were absolutely opposite of that, and he was able to bring to life everything from explosive rage to complete, open-hearted love. His range was astonishing, his honesty in performance was always staggering.
I met Hoffman a couple of times - once as an autograph-seeking fan at a performance of True West, a couple of times at press days, most memorably for Capote, the film that won him an Oscar. Smart, funny and kind, Hoffman was approachable and open. He leaves behind a legacy of undeniably amazing performances in movies that have meant so much to so many. I don't even know where to begin with his filmography: Boogie Nights? Happiness? Almost Famous? The Talented Mr. Ripley? The Master? So many perfect, immortal performances from an all-too mortal man.
That night after True West he came out and signed Playbills and chatted with the crowd and then he ambled off, with a slightly galumphing walk, to the subway. He poured his heart out on that stage and then got on the train to go home. I'll never forget that.