5 - Tuesday, February 4, 2014T iga The Michigan Daily - michiganclaily.com Folk Fest cautivates AA Hoffman in his Academy Award-winning role, "Capote." Ceebr H offma s Remembering one of the greatest actors of all time By AKSHAY SETH ManagingArts Editor In "Boogie Nights," Scotty J. hesitates. It never really mat- ters what he's doing, because in the brief moments before he does it, he pauses. Then shakes his head. Then ruminates. Then, after wading through a quicksand of insecurity, he pauses again. When he finally opens his mouth, the jumble of stuttered speech tumbling out stinks of the timid self-doubt Philip Seymour Hoffman, who passed away Sunday, is trying to pin on us. We see the wheels turn- ing in every scene. Over and over again, Scotty fumbles in his arguments. Over and over, Hoffman paints an ugly portrait of uncertainty inches from our eyes, enunciating the slightest brushstrokes, making sure we all have some sort of answer to that intriguing question of what makes Scotty J. tick. The technique builds in weight until Scotty's memora- ble confrontation with his love interest, and our protagonist, Dirk Diggler. And suddenly, it all topples. The bricks clutter down and reveal why one of the biggest reasons this scene sticks out is we don't see the wheels turning. There's cruelty in having the Band-Aid ripped off so quickly, in watching Scotty gamble on his emotions for the first time - only for it all to go so wrong, so abruptly. For once, we see the aftermath, and in that littered aftermath, we glimpse Hoff- man's genius. Small traces of that remark- able performance are visible in every brilliant, indelible role he took after. Despite the variety of characters he portrayed in his twenty-plus years on screen and on stage, Hoffman gravi- tated toward a common thread of vulnerability. Project after project, he became the mae- stro, far-removed from center stage, puppeteering the band of unhinged misfits living in the darker recesses of our imagina- tion. From pedophilic Jacob Eln- sky in "25th Hour" to wealth- obsessed Andy Hanson in "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead," Hoffman lived for that one make-or-break scene in which he'd lay it all on the table, daring his audience to show sympathy. And when we inevi- tably did, like all great actors, he'd have us reeling, sifting through our own notions of morality. He .thrived in the grayness between right and wrong. Unlike so many others of our generation, Hoffman had the unique ability to expose weak- ness without coming off as a panderer. He did it through honesty. If you look - really look - at Hoffman's face when he's acting, you'll be struck by how little he gives away. In "Capote," regrettably his only Academy Award-winning per- formance, listen for the pal- pable gulps he pauses to take after delivering his lines in that high, rattling rasp - little cues gently sheathing the decisions he's making on camera. More so than any other actor I've ever seen, Hoffman, through those seemingly insignificant tics, forces his audience to hold out for the intense release in emotion that accompanies a deep, raging tantrum or an extended, impactful inhalation of air. Even his irrelevant eye- rolls and half-mocking smiles in "The Talented Mr. Ripley" do more to convey a suspicious sense of unavoidable doom than anything else in the script. I don't remember the first Hoffman movie I saw, not because of his inconspicuous appearance or because he was playing some throwaway bit- part, but because the depth of each and every one of his por- trayals defines my most basic understanding of performance. It has to. He started acting two years before I was born. I grew up watching him. I saw him steal scenes in many of the most meaningful movies of my life - movies that piqued my interest in film and will forever char- acterize my appreciation of it. He wasn't just one of the most accomplished actors Hollywood has ever seen. He was among the first great actors my genera- tion had ever seen. And without so much of the love or appreciation he deserved, he died alone, in a Greenwich Village apartment after a heroin overdose. He was 46 years old. The expected out- pouring of support from fans egacy and peers alike is there, but the fact of the matter remains: We've lost a legend, our legend. In a 2008 interview with The New York Times, Hoffman recounted a story from his first few years as an actor. "In my mid-20s, an actor told me, 'Acting ain't no puzzle,' " Hoffman said. "I thought: 'Ain't no puzzle?!?' You must be bad!" He laughed. "You must be really bad, because it is a puzzle. Cre- ating anything is hard. It's a cli- ch6 thing to say, but every time you start a job, you just don't know anything. I mean, I can break something down, but ulti- mately I don't know anything when I start work on a new movie. You start stabbing out, and you make a mistake, and it's not right, and then you try again and again. The key is you have to commit. And that's hard because you have to find what it is you are committing to." One beautiful thing I've noticed about cinema is how often that commitment compels bravery - bravery in being so inexplicably tied to a craft that you're willing to stake your life on it. Bravery in facing the tor- ture of striving for greatness. And ultimately, bravery in let- ting go. Like any number of the greats, Hoffman will live on in his work, as he should. Like many others, I'll remember him in the lilting charisma of Tru- man Capote, that melancholy, high-pitched self-assuredness. And years down the line, I hope he'll still be there, peeking at me through those horn-rimmed spectacles, martini and ciga- rette in hand. And in that brief, magical moment, I'll be grate- ful - grateful for the laughs we shared through an invisible screen. By HANNAH WEINER Daily Arts Writer The festival had every type of folk a good folk festival should have. It had bluesy folk and romantic folk, country folk and funny folk, big-smiled energetic folk and mellow folk. Men and women folk. And, of course, the 3,500-some folks of all kinds in the audience. Friday and Saturday were nights full of gorgeous harmo- nies, bizarre stage get-ups, multi- instrumentalists and remarks from musicians like "what a nice place, this folk festival." The sold- out Ann Arbor Folk Festival, total- ing nine and a half hours, featured fourteen incredible musicians, more than a few Pete Seeger trib- utes, and one generally pleasant emcee, Seth Walker, who helped cleanse the palette between sets. The Ark, for its 37th year in a row, Folk rocks the Hill. brought together a refreshing mix of musicians: from the young and As Justin obscure to the old and Grammy wrapped up and award-winning. close to 10:15, the Friday night's line-up focused grind of being a on the obscure and the edgy, the festival is tru starting with a local band, Apple- ance, where on seed Collective. Between a fierce devoted and p mandolin solo and Katie Lee's But, that's part o1 seriously mystifying stage cha- risma and vocals, the band prop- erly introduced the audience to the folk festival mentality with a So fo high-energy performance. The night also included Thao pheno] & The Get Down Stay Down, a dissonant, spunky, electric indie-pop group infused with blues, folk and rock. Pearl and the Beard, a folk-pop trio with Iron & Wine's passionate synergy, was also fea- onstage with a tured - their music consists of a quickly declared brilliant roaring cello played by Arbor and his "b Emily Hope Price, and a fantastic erman's," which beard (bearded guitarist, Jeremy in a way onlyBea Styles, walked on stage and the pen. While the as man behind me exclaimed, "Oh ... been searching f I get it!"). typical acoustic: Willie Nil cme on stage 2010 appearanc looking like Lou k. ed from his Beam could ser Transformer day. dutifully and anythinginhis c unexpectedly play. g an aston- pering voice, and ishing cover of "Sweet Jane" mals, they'd dev dedicated to Lou. Nile revived sounded fullerv the crowd, bringing a serious and retained their b genuine energy to an audience cism. that was quickly deflating. As the audien Neko Case brought her sweet Hillon Friday nil and thin vocals (and skeleton tion spoke volum pants and wild red hair), enchant- faction, because ing the crowd with backup singer Hill Auditorium Kelly Hogan and a mix of hit more. songs and lesser known ones. Jus- The crowd ot tin Townes Earle, the tall, lanky, was radiating. 1 country-influenced musician who Griffin, IngridI had spastic moments of excite- Jeff Daniels p ment, followed after, playingeasy- larly entertainin going acoustic music - a sharp Crane Wives, Big contrast to Neko Case. Rite Boys, PigPe Even Hogan remarked on her pany, and John "theater crush" on Hill Audito- audience's hearts rium, adding, "we'll play a make PigPen Thea out song dedicated to the the- band made up of ater." That was a common theme who met at Carn among musicians. S as Neko versity, came on Case played, Thao Nguyen, from ticular energy t Thao &The Get Down Stay Down, students can coi watched dreamily from backstage all sang, they sou while musicians lined the wall. choir, and when t For as big as Hill Auditorium real- witty banter1 ly is, for the night, it felt that much laughs erupted ft smaller. Similarly, LILY ANGELLt/Daly Townes Earle charmed Hill Auditorium. making d the clock came everyone wish they were part of a audience felt the musically talented. happily mar- passionate folkie; ried folk duo. With their seamless ly a test of endur- vocals and touching lyrics ("the .y the extremely carpet still holds the shape of your assionate thrive. feet / from the last tineIsawyou f the fun. when you walked away from me"), the crowd unabashedly offered a standing ovation. Keeping the audience excited, 1kin' Jeff Daniels put a goll trophy on the chair next to him and mnenal. launched into "I Got an Eonny," immediately making the room laugh wholeheartedly. Eventu- ally, Daniels also made the whole room sing, "How 'bout we take Sam Beam came our pants off?" over and over full band and Not too long after, Ingrid his love for Ann Michaelson led the 3,500-strong elly full of Zing- crowd in "We Shall Overcome" sounded poetic to honor Pete Seeger - a feat that m can make hap- brought chills (and tears) to some udience mayhave in the audience. Michaelson had 'or Iron & Wine's prefaced the tribute with "fe OK," sound from their "The Way I Am," self-deprecating e at the festival, humor and memories of previous ve the audience Ann Arbor shows, prcing herself risp, gentle, whis- a crowd favorite. I like hungry ani- Finishing the festival, Griffin our it. His songs kept the balance of weirdness and with a band and expected traditional songs, liyp- eauty and poeti- notizing the crowd with her small frame, huge guitar, and incredible ce poured out of liveliness. But it wasn't only her ght, their exhaus- hour-long set that reminded the tes of their satis- crowd of the uniqueness of the the next night, Ann Arbor Folk Festival -- for her was full once encore, she came on stage with the other musicians from the night n Saturday night (and some from Friday, as well) to Headliners Patty sing "on Top of Old Smokey" with Michaelson and the audience. layed spectacu- Only in Ann Arbor would 3,500 g sets, while The folks feel so passionately about Sandy & His Fly- music that they spend close to ten mn Theatre Coi- hours in Hill Auditorium over the nyswim stole the course of 48 hours. Only in Ann S. Arbor would musicians walk on tre Company, a stage and immediately remark on seven young men the greatness of the city (and on egie Mellon Uni- Zingerman's). And, only in Ann stage with a par- Arbor would an event like the Folk hat only theatre Festival happen, where more than nvey. When they 3,500voicessingbothspiritualand anded like a small silly songs without shame, where they interspersed people trudge through snow and between songs, sleet to arrive, and where a whole om the audience. auditorium lingers on the sound of Johnnyswim a sole guitar. WANT TO WRITE FOR THE DAILY THIS SEMESTER? APPLY TO THE DAILY ARTS SECTION AND BECOME A PART OF OUR DREAM TEAM. E-mail arts@ michigandaily. com to request an MIRAMAX a tication today! Hoffman's legacy resides in the powerful characters he has portrayed. A 7 I I