Philip Seymour Hoffman may have made his name in movies, but he made his reputation at the theater.
And the theater made him what he was: That’s where he forged the seemingly effortless craft and presence that helped make him so compelling on-screen.
And, unlike many of his peers, he never left the stage: He kept acting in plays, directing plays, going to plays — he was a familiar presence in darkened orchestra seats, darting in and out of the audience, scruffy and innocuous.
To off-Broadway audiences, it always felt as if he was one of us, a guy who was doing what he was doing because he liked what happens when a room darkens and the lights go up.
Hoffman never won a Tony but he was nominated for each of his three Broadway appearances — 2000’s “True West” (in which he and John C. Reilly played both lead roles in alternance), 2003’s “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” and, most recently, 2012’s “Death of a Salesman.”
Yet it’s downtown that he was most at home.
He had long, fruitful relationships with the Public Theater and the LAByrinth Theater Company. It’s not a coincidence that the one movie he directed, “Jack Goes Boating,” was based on a Bob Glaudini play in which he starred — and which was produced by LAByrinth at the Public.
I didn’t always care for Hoffman’s acting choices. His turn as Iago in 2009’s “Othello” was pretty bad, but then Peter Sellars’ entire production was misguided.
But even when I didn’t like a performance, I liked the guy.
I remember a show called “A Family for All Occasions” last year. It was written by Glaudini and directed by Hoffman, who was lurking in the back, wearing a baseball cap, at the performance I attended.
The play wasn’t great, but it was intriguing. You could see what attracted Hoffman to it — it wasn’t perfect, but it had heart.
I didn’t know Hoffman personally, but shows like “A Family for All Occasions” illustrate why he came across as someone loyal and committed to the New York theater community.
He took it all in, the limelight of Broadway and the grunt work in a tiny space just off the Hudson River.
For that alone, he will be missed.