It’s the sort of news that makes you stop in your tracks, the kind you have to read twice to let it sink in. Julian McMahon, the impossibly handsome Australian actor whose chiseled features and magnetic screen presence made him a fixture on our TVs and in our movie theaters for more than two decades, is gone. Just like that. Only 56, and yet somehow timeless, he slipped away quietly after a brief but devastating battle with cancer—a fight that nearly no one outside his closest circle even knew he was waging. In a world that so often seems obsessed with oversharing, the fact that Julian kept his illness private feels both heartbreakingly personal and deeply dignified, a final act of grace from a man who spent his life giving so much of himself to the world.

It was his wife, Kelly, who broke the news, her words at once raw and poetic, a love letter and a farewell. “With an open heart, I wish to share with the world that my beloved husband, Julian McMahon, d3ed peacefully this week after a valiant effort to overcome cancer,” she wrote, and you can almost hear the catch in her voice, the echo of a thousand memories playing out behind her eyes. “Julian loved life. He loved his family. He loved his friends. He loved his work, and he loved his fans. His deepest wish was to bring joy into as many lives as possible.” There’s something so simple and pure about that sentiment—bringing joy—that it almost hurts to read, knowing that the man who made so many people smile is no longer here.

For those of us who grew up watching “Nip/Tuck,” the news hits especially hard. Who could forget Dr. Christian Troy, the dangerously charming plastic surgeon with a devilish smile and a wounded soul? Julian didn’t just play Christian—he embodied him, giving us a character who was at once infuriating and irresistible, a man we loved to hate and hated to love, sometimes in the same scene. With every smirk, every glint of mischief in his eye, Julian made Christian more than just a TV antihero—he made him real, flawed, and unforgettable. It’s no exaggeration to say that “Nip/Tuck” wouldn’t have been the same without him; he was its beating heart, its wild card, its dark, seductive edge.

But if “Nip/Tuck” was where Julian’s star shone brightest, it was hardly the only place he left his mark. For fans of a certain age, he’ll always be Cole Turner, the brooding demon-turned-lover on “Charmed,” whose tempestuous romance with Alyssa Milano’s Phoebe was the stuff of TV legend. There was a chemistry there that you couldn’t fake, a sense of danger and longing that made every scene between them crackle with electricity. Even when Cole was at his most villainous, you found yourself rooting for him, hoping against hope that love might conquer all—if only for a moment.

And then there was Doctor Doom. Only Julian McMahon could take a comic book villain and give him a touch of tragic grandeur, a sense of wounded pride and ambition that made Victor Von Doom more than just a man in a mask. In the “Fantastic Four” films of the 2000s, Julian brought a smooth, almost aristocratic menace to the role, reminding us that sometimes the best villains are the ones who believe, deep down, that they’re the hero of their own story. It’s a testament to his talent that, in a film packed with special effects and larger-than-life action, it was Julian’s icy stare and velvet-voiced threats that lingered in the memory long after the credits rolled.

Of course, Julian’s resume stretched far beyond those headline roles. He was the kind of actor who popped up everywhere, from soap operas like “Home and Away” in his native Australia, to big-budget blockbusters like “RED” and “Premonition,” to cult favorites like “Profiler” and Marvel’s “Runaways.” No matter the project, no matter the size of the part, Julian brought a sense of commitment and charisma that made you sit up and take notice. He had a knack for finding the humanity in even the most outlandish characters, for making you care about people you might otherwise have written off. It’s a rare gift, and one that will be sorely missed.

Most recently, Julian found a new legion of fans as Jess LaCroix, the stoic leader of the Fugitive Task Force on CBS’s “FBI: Most Wanted.” For three seasons, he anchored the show with a quiet authority, a steely resolve tempered by flashes of warmth and vulnerability. It was a role that seemed tailor-made for him—a man who could command a room with a glance, but who never lost sight of the human cost of the job. In a landscape crowded with crime dramas, Julian’s Jess stood out, a reminder that sometimes the most compelling heroes are the ones who carry their scars just beneath the surface.

And yet, for all his success, Julian McMahon never seemed to let fame go to his head. Colleagues describe him as generous, funny, and unfailingly kind, the sort of person who took the time to learn everyone’s name on set, who always had a word of encouragement or a joke to lighten the mood. Fans who met him at conventions or premieres speak of a man who was genuinely grateful for their support, who never made anyone feel like an inconvenience or an afterthought. In an industry that can be notoriously self-absorbed, Julian was a breath of fresh air—a reminder that you can be a star without acting like one.

His last public appearance was at the North American premiere of “The Surfer,” a film he made with Nicolas Cage, at the 2025 SXSW Conference in Austin, Texas. Those who saw him there noted that he looked thinner, a little more fragile than usual, but still radiating that unmistakable charm. No one guessed, of course, that it would be the last time we’d see him in the spotlight. In hindsight, it’s hard not to wonder what he was thinking, what he was feeling, as he smiled for the cameras one final time.

As the tributes pour in from friends, co-stars, and fans around the world, one thing becomes abundantly clear: Julian McMahon was more than just a talented actor—he was a genuinely good man, someone who brought light and laughter wherever he went. His wife’s words ring especially true now, as we grapple with the shock of his loss: “We ask for support during this time to allow our family to grieve in privacy. And we wish for all of those to whom Julian brought joy, to continue to find joy in life. We are grateful for the memories.” It’s a simple request, but a powerful one, a reminder that even in the midst of sorrow, there is still room for gratitude, for love, for the kind of joy that Julian worked so hard to share with the world.

So tonight, maybe pour yourself a glass of wine and queue up an old episode of “Nip/Tuck” or “Charmed.” Watch Julian do what he did best—make you feel, make you think, make you forget, if only for an hour, about the troubles of the world. Remember him not just as a star, but as a man who understood, better than most, that life is precious, fleeting, and meant to be lived with open arms and an open heart. In the end, that’s the legacy Julian McMahon leaves behind: not just a body of work, but a reminder to cherish every moment, to love fiercely, and to find joy wherever you can. Rest in peace, Julian. You brought us joy. We won’t forget you.