Phil Hartman And The Night He Was Killed By His Wife

dthholland
4 days ago
6 min read

A smiling man in a suit with a retro microphone, a woman in a green coat, and another man with glasses. Bright yellow and blue background.

It’s hard to imagine a man so gifted at delivering joy being consumed by such a grim ending. Phil Hartman wasn’t just another comic in the lineup—he was the glue of Saturday Night Live, the golden voice behind Troy McClure, and the everyman with a wicked twist in sitcoms like NewsRadio. And yet, despite a career laced with humour, fame, and respect, Hartman’s life came to a haunting and violent end in 1998, killed while he slept by the person who shared his home and family life.

The Face Everyone Knew, The Man Few Did

Born in Ontario, Canada, and raised in the U.S. from the age of ten, Hartman found his path through graphic design before stumbling into comedy with The Groundlings. He made his mark writing and performing for Paul Reubens’ Pee-wee’s Playhouse, voicing beloved characters on The Simpsons, and ultimately becoming a fixture on Saturday Night Live through the late 1980s and early ’90s.

By the mid-1990s, he was comfortably ensconced in mainstream American television as Bill McNeal on NBC’s NewsRadio. Viewers admired his ability to portray pompous, self-deluded characters without tipping into cruelty. Off-screen, Hartman was regarded as gentle, helpful, and devoted—especially to his two children.

A Private Struggle

Though Phil Hartman often spoke with warmth about his family, those close to him knew his marriage to Brynn Omdahl, his third, was not without considerable strain. Brynn, a former model and aspiring actress, had met Hartman on a blind date in 1986. By all accounts, the early days of their relationship were full of promise. They married the following year and had two children together. But beneath the surface of their domestic life in Encino, California, a much darker reality was unfolding.

Brynn struggled with deep insecurity and a sense of stagnation in her personal ambitions. As Hartman’s career flourished—with his voice featured in The Simpsons, his face recognised from NewsRadio, and his name now widely respected in comedy—Brynn’s own career faltered. She found it difficult to escape the shadow of her husband’s success and was often frustrated by her inability to carve out a path of her own. According to several friends and colleagues, this imbalance fed a growing resentment.

Smiling family of three embracing outdoors. Child in white shirt, adult in colorful Hawaiian shirt. Overcast sky in background. Happy mood.

There were further complications. Brynn developed a dependency on alcohol and prescription medication, and her mood could shift rapidly. Phil, ever the peacemaker, is said to have made numerous attempts to help her get back on track. He supported her efforts to land acting roles and even suggested she enter rehabilitation. She did, more than once, but her relapses became more frequent over time.

Friends later described a household that oscillated between calm and chaos. Comedian Jan Hooks, a close friend and former Saturday Night Live castmate, was reportedly the subject of Brynn’s jealousy. Brynn is believed to have written unsent letters accusing Hooks of being too close to her husband—even though their relationship was professional and platonic. Jon Lovitz, another friend and SNL alumnus, later confirmed that Phil had spoken to him about the growing emotional turbulence at home, including occasions where he had taken the children away to safety during one of Brynn’s outbursts.

Despite mounting concerns, Phil was reluctant to divorce. He adored his children and appeared determined to preserve the family structure for their sake. Friends said he maintained a stoic front, rarely complaining publicly, but the toll was evident in private conversations with those closest to him.

The Night of May 27, 1998

The final act of this private tragedy unfolded on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday. On the evening of 27 May 1998, Brynn met up with her friend Christine Zander, a writer and producer, for dinner at Buca di Beppo, an Italian restaurant in Encino. By Zander’s account, Brynn seemed in good spirits. They shared drinks and conversation, and nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

But once home, tensions reportedly reignited. According to later investigations, Brynn and Phil argued—possibly about her relapse or another domestic concern—before he went to bed. It was a familiar pattern, but this time, the outcome would be final.

Sometime before 3:00 a.m. on 28 May, Brynn entered the bedroom while Phil was asleep. She was carrying a .38 calibre Smith & Wesson revolver. She fired three shots: one struck him between the eyes, another in the throat, and a third in the upper chest. He died instantly.

In the aftermath, Brynn left the house and drove to her friend Ron Douglas’s home. Distressed and disoriented, she told him what had happened. At first, Douglas didn’t believe her—assuming it was an exaggerated claim made under the influence. But she persisted, and they eventually returned to the Hartman home in separate cars. There, Douglas discovered Phil’s body. He immediately called the police at 6:20 a.m.

Two men move a stretcher with a covered body towards a van in a sunny outdoor setting. One wears a striped shirt, the other in beige.

By the time the LAPD arrived, Brynn had locked herself in the bedroom. Officers secured the home and removed the couple’s two young children, who had been asleep elsewhere in the house. A short time later, Brynn took her own life using a different firearm—a Charter Arms Undercover revolver.

She was 40 years old. Phil Hartman was 49.

A toxicology report later confirmed that Brynn had a mix of alcohol, cocaine, and the antidepressant Zoloft in her system at the time of the murder-suicide. The LAPD attributed the tragedy to "domestic discord", though for those close to the couple, it seemed like the inevitable endpoint of a marriage long in crisis.

In the wake of the murder, Brynn’s brother Gregory Omdahl filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Pfizer, the pharmaceutical company that manufactured Zoloft, as well as the psychiatrist who had prescribed it. The case was settled out of court, with no admission of liability.

Phil Hartman’s two children, then aged nine and six, were taken in by Brynn’s sister Katharine and her husband Mike Wright. The children were raised in the Midwest, away from the media spotlight. Hartman’s will had made clear provisions for them, with financial inheritances to be paid out in stages once they reached adulthood.

Hartman and Brynn were cremated and their ashes scattered in Emerald Bay off Santa Catalina Island—one of Phil’s favourite places. A memorial plaque bearing both of their names was placed in Thief River Falls, Minnesota, where Brynn had been born. It marked the final chapter in a story that had brought joy to millions but ended with quiet, shattering violence behind closed doors.

Newspaper clipping with the headline "Fatally Shot: Wife Kills Him, Self at Home." Features a photo of a man and woman at an event. Text details the incident.

Fallout and Legacy

Hartman’s sudden death sent shockwaves through the entertainment world. Production halted across several of his projects. NewsRadio restructured its fifth season to open with a tribute episode, “Bill Moves On”, which aired the day before what would have been Hartman’s 50th birthday. On The Simpsons, rather than recast his characters, the producers retired them altogether. Troy McClure and Lionel Hutz have not appeared since.

He had been on the cusp of even more. He was preparing to voice Zapp Brannigan on Futurama, a role written specifically for him, and was planning to star in a new independent film. The depth of his loss was not just emotional but creative—Hartman had a wealth of untapped ideas and energy yet to share.

His two children were raised by Brynn’s family, and his estate, worth over a million dollars, was left in trust for them. In accordance with his wishes, his ashes were scattered near Santa Catalina Island.

Remembering the Man

In the years since his death, Hartman has become something of a cult figure, not only for his unmistakable voice and knack for satire, but as a symbol of the disconnect between public personas and private suffering. Warm, dedicated, and endlessly versatile, Phil Hartman left behind a legacy that remains tinged with tragedy.

As comedian and Simpsons co-star Nancy Cartwright put it:

“He had such a casual, no-nonsense way about him... He knew how to look you in the eye, and he knew the power of being able to lay back and let somebody else be funny.”

Today, it’s not just his jokes we remember, it’s the man who, despite all the laughter, left too soon.