Not everyone can be as blithe, fluid, and enchanting as Fred Astaire. Cary Grant once remarked on how he longed to be that Cary Grant fellow whom strangers enjoyed. But in Philip Seymour Hoffman there is something as bleak as the idea of no more fun. That is as hard to take as the loss of someone still young who seemed born to act. It leaves you feeling that we are in a bad place. Are we beginning to wonder if we no longer deserve entertainment? Suffering Artist Syndrome. Im confused by this article: his roles were too nihilistic for your taste, ergo he had demons, and the industry sucks? Geez. Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote a poem about that.... I miss Phil. And Im still angry. Is it worth it? (Oh... I see what they did there.)
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 04:20:02 +0000