Attribution: Georges Biard, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
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By Geoff Carter
He has been hailed as one of the greatest actors of his generation. Whether he plays the lead or appears in even the smallest of supporting roles, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s presence dominates every frame he appears in. Playing the laconic and decidedly unlikeable baseball manager Art Howe opposite Brad Pitt in Moneyball, he personifies an unmistakably authentic aura of arrogance and disdain. In Boogie Nights, he plays Scotty J., a clinging and somewhat pathetic wannabe, so convincingly—and so uninhibitedly (check out the undersize t-shirts) that we can’t decide whether to feel sorry for him or to tease him.
These two roles are only short instances of Seymour’s seemingly infinite range as an actor. Scotty J. and Art Howe are hardly fleshed-out and complex characters, but in Hoffman’s hands, they become not only realistic, but—in a sense—inevitable, presences that are undeniably authentic. Philip Seymour Hoffman’s real appeal is not his range or even his talent, which is considerable. It’s his transparency. No matter how complicated and layered a character, like Truman Capote in Capote, or Lancaster Dodd in The Master, Hoffman carefully exposes the rich emotional textures of his characters with seemingly little effort; and like Spencer Tracy, you never catch him acting.
But it is in the supporting roles, the parts that usually pass unnoticed, where he shines. His portrayal of the feckless and spoiled George Willis in Scent of a Woman hits the mark perfectly. The uncertainty and insecurity of a young man who has never faced any consequences in his life is reflected in every move Hoffman makes. It is a dead-on pitch-perfect performance. The same is true of Brandt, the rich Lebowski’s assistant in The Big Lebowski. His laugh is a little too loud, his smile a little too forced, and his manner a little too nervous for a man who knows who he is.
In his more complex supporting roles, like Lester Bangs in Almost Famous, Hoffman brings an electricity to the screen that dominates every frame in which he appears. His energy and love for rock and roll is belied by his underlying disappointment with the culture that spawned it. In the scene where he speaks with his protégé journalist William Miller, his voice reveals textured layers of sympathy for William, his own disillusionment, and a deep and pungent sorrow. Here, as he almost always does, Hoffman strikes the perfect balance.
Philip Seymour Hoffman was a phenomenal talent, a once-in-a-generation caliber actor. He has been missed. His performances in the smallest roles have added nuances and subtleties to every movie he’s been in. What would a film like Death of a Unicorn looked like with him as the father? What would he have done with Joel Cohen’s MacBeth? Could he (would he) have played Donald Trump in The Apprentice? Granted, Sebastian Stan, Denzel Washington, and Paul Rudd shined in those roles, but still… you have to wonder.
Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Ten Best Films
Almost Famous: Based on the real-life writing career of Cameron Crowe. William Miller (Patrick Fugit), an aspiring fifteen-year-old rock critic is assigned by Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman) of Creem magazine to do a feature on Black Sabbath. He instead falls in with an up-and-coming band, “Stillwater”, goes on tour with them and is eventually commissioned by the Rolling Stone to write an article about them. Hoffman’s portrayal of Bangs is both manic and thoughtful. His presence provides the necessary backdrop to William’s understanding of the thin line between the personal and the professional in rock journalism. McDormand plays Elaine Miller, William’s overly protective mother whose moralistic pontifications about the dangers of rock and roll are both frightening and hilarious. Also notable for Kate Hudson’s supporting performance as Penny Lane, a groupie whose ethereal presence enthralls both William and lead guitarist Russell.
Capote: Hoffman’s portrayal of writer Truman Capote during the writing of his classic book In Cold Blood is an immaculately conceived and executed performance. Somehow Hoffman, a larger man, manages to seem as if he is the elfin Capote. He acts smaller. He is brilliant, arrogant, petulant, and ridiculously self-confident. In his relentless quest to chronicle the murders of the Clutter family, he uses flattery, praise, and charm to worm his way into the heart of the investigation and finally into the heart and soul of Perry Smith, (Clifton Collins, Jr.) one of the killers. Capote befriends and becomes fond of Smith, whose hard life and difficult childhood were major causes in his transgressions. Hoffman’s metamorphosis from literary opportunist and social gadfly into a man ultimately ruined by the consequences of his art is a remarkable performance. Catherine Keener also shines in her portrayal of his friend Harper Lee.
Boogie Nights: The rise and fall of a young porn star is punctuated by a series of New Year’s Eve parties at the home of his idealistic producer Jack Horner. Young Eddie Adams (who eventually takes the stage name Dirk Diggler) is assisted in his meteoric rise in porno by Horner and supported by fellow actor Amber Waves. Diggler eventually becomes consumed by megalomania and falls fast and hard before hitting bottom. The film is loosely based on the life of John Holmes. As Scotty J., one of the grips on the movie set, Hoffman embodies the fragile ego and hopeless yearning of a young, unattractive, hopelessly devoted—but determined man. He loves Dirk, an like a puppy, cannot leave his side, no matter how many times he is pushed away and kicked. Also notable for Burt Reynold’s outstanding performance as Jack Horner.
Doubt: In a 1964 Bronx Catholic Church, Sister Aloysius, (Streep) the conservative school principal, becomes suspicious of Father Brendan Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) the parish priest, when begins paying particular attention to one of his students. Sister Aloysius confronts Father Brendan with her suspicions. Even though he denies all wrongdoing, the sister presses on, enlisting the testimony of Sister James (Amy Adams), a novice who believes she saw the priest engaging in inappropriate behavior. Hoffman’s Father Brendan brims with goodwill and bonhomie, yet his intentions toward the boy are unclear. He could be a predator, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or he could simply be a good caring priest. Hoffman’s performance carefully toes that line, setting up our own doubts as to his veracity. Notable for phenomenal ensemble acting of Hoffman, Streep, and Adams.
The Master: In this psychological thriller, partly inspired the life of Scientologist founder L. Ron Hubbard, Adams plays Peggy Dodd, the wife of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), founder of “The Cause”, a quasi-religious philosophical movement who takes World War II veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) under his wing. Quell accompanies the family on a tour of the East Coast and eventually comes to realize that Dodd is not a prophet but a snake-oil salesman and that his movement is actually a cult. He tries to leave but is drawn back to the magnetic draw of Dodd’s personality. Hoffman’s portrayal is equal parts charm, avarice, ruthlessness, and sadism. He is a frightening and malignant presence. As Peggy, Dodd’s devoted wife, Adams is a somewhat disturbing mixture of devotion and ambition, sort of a cross between June Cleaver and Lady MacBeth. The layered performance is the perfect counterpoint to Hoffman’s zealous and narcissistic pseudo-visionary.
The Big Lebowski: In one of his smallest roles as Brandt, the assistant to the corporate Jeff Lebowski (David Huddleston), Hoffman still animates what by all rights should have been (and probably would have been) a flat cardboard-cutout characterization in another actor’s hands. Whether Brandt is running errands, making excuses, or being abused by his boss, he puts on the same frantic front, a smiling and pleasant façade that is only the thinnest disguise for animal fear. He is the ultimate ass-kicking lackey, yet somehow, he is more than that comedic stereotype, more than a Barney Fife or an Ed Norton. There is a depth and substance—maybe a sadness—to Brandt that is not in the screenplay; it is all Philip Seymour Hoffman. This character could very easily have become, should have become, a caricature; in Philip Seymour Hoffman’s hands, it became gold.
State and Main: In this comedy written and directed by David Mamet, a film company (because of the leading man’s (Alec Baldwin) fondness for young girls comes to a sleepy Vermont town to finish their film. Joseph Turner White (Hoffman) the young writer, is bewildered and somewhat appalled by the ethics and aesthetics of the crew. He finds solace in the companionship of Annie (Rebecca Pidgeon) whose charming small-town wisdom is endearing and charming. As White, Hoffman plays an insecure man unsure of himself and his art whose is completely taken aback by the filmmakers’ ruthlessness and greed. As with most of his performances, Hoffman conveys White’s anxiety and fear with his whole body. The tenor and attitude of his posture and walk speaks volumes about his inner life.
The Talented Mr. Ripley: In this twisted psychological thriller, Matt Damon plays Tom Ripley, an aimless musician who is hired by shipping magnate Herbert Greenleaf (James Rebhorn)—mistakenly believing he went to Princeton with his son Tom—to persuade his son to return home for a life of decadence in Europe. Ripley meets Dickie (Jude Law) and his girlfriend Marge Sherwood (Gwyneth Paltrow) and soon becomes seduced by their extravagant lifestyle. Ripley becomes obsessed with Dickie, imitating his lifestyle and even pretending to be him. He eventually kills Dickie, takes on his identity, and moves to Rome, where he is forced to take extreme measures in order to preserve his grisly secrets. He is eventually discovered by Tom’s smarmy friend Freddie Miles (Hoffman) who (because he hates Ripley) threatens to expose him. In his role as Freddie, Hoffman again dominates the screen. As he teases and taunts Ripley, playing on the audience’s knowledge of Ripley’s deceit, we like him not just despite of his arrogance and smarminess but almost because of it.
Charlie Wilson’s War: In this Aaron Sorkin biopic about Texas congressman Charlie Wilson’s (Tom Hanks) desire to appease a rich donor’s (Julia Roberts) desire to stop the suffering in Soviet-occupied Afghanistan, he enlists the help of a rogue Greek CIA operative Gus Avrakotos (Philip Seymour Hoffman) to devise a strategy to stimy the Russians. With some deft political dealing, Wilson is able to wrangle the funding for the armaments necessary to neutralize the Soviet helicopter warships. As Gus, Hoffman is a beautifully drawn mixture of a brilliant tactician, a shrewd politician, half-baked philosopher, and all-around eccentric. The scene where he relates the Zen parable of the lost horse is nothing short of brilliant.
Moneyball: A film that documents the brains behind the phenomenal rise of the 2002 Oakland A’s, baseball’s ultimate underdog. Working with a limited budget, A’s General Manager Billy Beane decides to work outside the boundaries of traditional baseball thought, enlisting the help of statistical whiz kid Peter Brand to hire quality players generally overlooked by the baseball establishment. Beane, himself a casualty of the outmoded strategies for evaluating players, perseveres with his team of misfits as they reach a surprisingly incredible outcome to their season. As Art Howe, the laconic A’s manager, Hoffman manages to create a stuffy, laconic man who is rather unpleasant and perennially grumpy. Not only is his persona for Howe perfect, Hoffman is able to convey the man’s unpleasantness through sheer body language.