Character Studies: Philip Seymour Hoffman in Boogie Nights
Though he would later be able to do it in his sleep, Hoffman's first time playing a sad sack is his best & most memorable.
(Character Studies focuses on supporting actor performances that linger in my mind long after I’ve watched them. Some spoilers should be expected).
Though he had been acting for several years by then, Twister put Philip Seymour Hoffman on my radar. Out of the late 90s resurgence of big-budget disaster films, Twister was the most entertaining, thanks mainly to its motley crew of storm chasers, which included not just Hoffman, but Alan Ruck decades before being cast as Logan Roy’s least favorite child, and future writer/director of Tár Todd Field. Lovable lug Dusty is the most memorable of the bunch, always up for a good time, even if that good time involves driving directly toward the eye of a tornado.
Hoffman could have easily spent much of his career playing some variation of that same character if he and Paul Thomas Anderson hadn’t found each other. Anderson saw the potential in Hoffman and took him on as a muse of sorts, writing roles that allowed him to play everything from low-rent thugs to saintly hospice nurses to genius charlatans. And then there was Scotty J.
The problem with ensemble pictures is that when trying to move all the characters from Point A to Point B, some of them get lost in the shuffle, eventually left with little to do and no impression to make on the audience1. In Boogie Nights, rather than just satellites orbiting around the main character, many of the supporting cast get their own little dramas, some of which end in tragedy, and some don’t. Even though Hoffman is only in a handful of scenes (and doesn’t even have dialogue in all of them), he makes an indelible impression as Scotty, playing a character that could have been a one-note joke with empathy.
Scotty is introduced to the tune of Hot Chocolate’s “You Sexy Thing,” an ironic needle drop considering that, with his ill-fitting clothes and floppy hair, he looks like an unmade bed. Though he’s evidently been invited to a wild L.A. pool party, his body language is awkward and uneasy, and you wish someone would give him a hug, followed by a bottle of SPF 75 sunblock.
Lest you think that Scotty might be a cool guy in spite of all this, the first thing anyone says to him is “Shut the fuck up.”
From the way his point-of-view indifferently passes over various bikini-clad women and hones right in Eddie2 (who’s not yet Dirk Diggler), we know right away what Scotty’s story is. He makes an immediate beeline for Eddie, and, in the most unconvincing attempt at breezy conversation of all time, chats him up, asking if he’s going to be working for Jack Horner, a porn producer. “Cause I work on the films! You know, sometimes,” Scotty says, not mentioning that he’s a boom operator, not an actor. The entire encounter lasts barely twenty seconds, and Eddie does little else but smile politely, but it’s enough: Scotty is dumbstruck with love.
Like all true romantics, Scotty waits literal years before making his move, content to be in Eddie-now-Dirk’s presence. They’re not friends, exactly, but co-workers who occasionally hang out, Dirk blissfully ignorant to how Scotty stares at him in adoration. He even dresses like Dirk sometimes, even if his body isn’t suited to the tight, trendy disco gear Dirk wears. We’ve all been there: if I’m patient enough, eventually he’ll notice me.
Scotty finally shoots his shot on that most fortuitous night, New Year’s Eve. New Year’s Eve going into 1980, to be exact, and the air is crackling with promise and excitement. They’re at another party at Jack’s house, just like when they first met, and Scotty invites Dirk to join him outside, under the pretense of showing off his brand new sportscar. “I wanted to make sure you thought it was cool, or else I was gonna take it back,” he says, desperate for Dirk’s approval in a way that would be pathetic if it wasn’t so damn relatable3.
Fresh out of ideas on how to get Dirk’s attention, Scotty tries to pull him into a clumsy kiss. Even after watching Boogie Nights several times, and knowing it’s coming, it’s a hard moment to watch4. Scotty immediately regrets what he’s done, and it’s one of those situations where everything he says and does makes it worse. “You look at me sometimes,” he stammers. “I wanted to know if you like me.”
Dirk, for his part, after some initial shock, handles the whole thing pretty well. While firmly turning Scotty down, he also accepts his apology, invites him to return to the party, and even gives him a friendly hug. But Scotty is in stunned disbelief, as if he’s just witnessed a car crash. Dirk probably forgets about the incident moments after it happens, but Scotty is distraught, sitting in his car and weeping. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot…fuckin’ idiot…fuckin’ idiot.” No one at the party realizes he’s gone, and the whole thing comes to a violent end when Little Bill, another member of Jack’s crew, finds his wife having sex with another man (as he has many times in the past), shoots them both, and them himself. Happy new year.
Content to just breathe Dirk’s air for a little while longer, Scotty does stick around, though he’s eventually squeezed out in favor of the far cooler and self-assured Todd. Dirk doesn’t really notice either way, particularly once he gets caught up in a nasty coke addiction that impacts the one thing that makes him useful to Jack. Unable to look past his pride (and angry that Jack’s already found a replacement for him), Dirk throws a tantrum, demanding they fit a shooting schedule around him.
Scotty watches as Dirk and Jack act out their bizarre daddy-son dynamic, looking like he’s about to burst into tears and beg them to stop fighting. But mostly he just looks devastated at what Dirk’s become, an egotistical monster who yells and throws things, instead of the sweet-faced innocent Scotty fell in love with at that pool party years earlier. He’s become someone Scotty no longer recognizes. It’s another, perhaps deeper heartbreak.
But, again, Dirk doesn’t notice Scotty fretting over him. Scotty gradually retreats into the background before disappearing entirely, not to be seen again. Maybe he stayed on board when Jack grudgingly moved his business to video, maybe he didn’t. All we can do is hope he’s still out there somewhere, and he’s okay.
A recent example of this is last year’s Glass Onion, a perfectly entertaining movie, but one with such a surplus of characters that some of them, including Leslie Odom’s genius scientist, and Kathryn Hahn’s corrupt politician, end up not doing much else but stand around and watch events unfold.
In addition to being painfully relatable, the weary sigh he lets out just before noticing Eddie is also a great bit of non-verbal acting.
If you’re going to tell me there was never a time when you thought you would do just about anything to win the attention of someone who barely acknowledged your existence, I will call you a damn dirty liar.
Making it harder still is that audiences seem to be divided as to whether or not this moment is meant to be funny or not. I am firmly on the side that it is not.