Monday, February 3, 2014
Why This Death Was So Hard
Every moment happens twice, inside and outside, and they are two different histories. -Zadie Smith
Oh no. Whhaat? Gutted. Fucking devastating. Horrible: This is what people were saying. Mo called me on the phone: Not Phillip Seymour Hoffman!! Everyone had the same reaction. No one said, well I saw that coming. No one even said, who? If you ever saw him act, you remembered him; not because he seemed like a star, but because he didn't seem like a star at all. He seemed like someone you knew from school, or stood next to on the subway. But then he'd talk, and his voice was weight and darkness and gravel, and you realized he was carrying around something heavy. It was his voice more than anything that was his window. He could change the sound of it and be a different person entirely. His voice could make you feel uncomfortable to the point of pain. I'm thinking of him crying "I'm an idiot" in the car in Boogie Nights. He cried like he was 5 years old. You can go through the whole movie thinking oh, he's just a gay, fat, weirdo with a freaky hair-do, until you see him cry in the car. And then you think, because no one on earth doesn't know what that feels like, that's me.