Philip Seymour Hoffman.

There’s a part of me that thinks this is still just a hoax. Even though I found out via Circa. Even though it’s been reported on the New York Post and also on the WSJ. Even though BBC has now published an obituary, and James Urbaniak posted a beautiful anecdote, and Vanity Fair has an In Memoriam, which talks about oh-so-many of his wonderful films, I still can’t quite grasp it.

He really made every character he played his own, winning the Oscar (and practically every other film award under the sun) for Capote. I’m so glad we got to see his inspiring performances in every film he was in, from Boogie Nights to The Big Lebowski, Magnolia to Mission Impossible III, plus Charlie Wilson’s War, Doubt, and The Master, which earned him yet more nominations for his talent.

My thoughts and prayers are with his loved ones, especially his family. Rest in peace, PSH. You will be sorely missed.

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