Toby Atkin-Wright

I saw the news that Philip Seymour Hoffman had died. I looked at his face on the news, and thought it was mildly familiar, then looked at the list of films that he is best known for, and came to the conclusion that I hadn’t seen any of them.

(After delving into IMDb, I determined that I must have seen him in Mission: Impossible III, but I have no strong memory of that film, other than that it had something to do with the Vatican. Maybe.)

Anyway, it struck me that it is very easy to pass through life without sharing the cultural experiences that many people would regard as normal. I don’t watch many mainstream modern films. I’ve never watched an episode of Coronation Street, or listened to the Archers. I’ve never seen an episode of Big Brother, I’m a Celebrity, or the X Factor. I’ve never watched a football match, a rugby match, or a cricket match.

I am unfamiliar with many of the best known sportspeople or soap-opera actors.

And I suspect that this unfamiliarity with mainstream celebrity can only become easier to attain, as we increasingly find our entertainment on Netflix. There is no distinction between old films and new films; between old TV shows and modern TV shows. All are just a button-press away. And often an old TV show is more rewarding to watch, as there will be full runs of seasons available to watch, and a pleasant feeling of completeness about the experience.

It is entirely possible that I could find myself watching a Philip Seymour Hoffman movie next week or next year, and that I might yet become as familiar and as appreciative of his work as those who are mourning him today. It is rather exciting to know that there are great films and great actors that I have yet to discover.