R.J., Former Manager of Mitte, Says He Is "in Complete Shock, Utterly Devastated and Fighting" After an Actor's Suicide

Ben Brockato shared a lengthy statement praising his longtime client, who had become family, a man who, he said, had a passion for life, deep knowledge, and great empathy: "R.J. was a rare kind of human being."

A tribute from R.J. The inner circle of death continues to emerge after the Breaking Bad actor took his own life on Monday.

Ben Brocato, who serves as CEO and founder of BLUNT MGMT in addition to his role as director in the green room, shared a lengthy and emotional tribute on Instagram Tuesday to his longtime client, someone he called an "instant friend" who became family during their professional relationship.

The rep said she put together the 11-slide carousel of text with tears in her eyes as she "tries to process the grief that at times seems overwhelming," a sentiment shared by many of Mitte's colleagues and friends after the sad news broke. "I'm still in complete shock, completely devastated and struggling to find the emotional capacity to process this loss, let alone express my feelings," wrote Brocato, who reported meeting Mitte shortly after the actor turned 21.

R.J. Mitte said he hopes to revive the "Breaking Bad" character in the final podcast.

How "Breaking Bad" actor R.J. Mitt made an impact as a disability rights activist

Brocato's tribute to the actor, known for his turn on Breaking Bad as Bryan Cranston's son Walter White Jr. and Anna Gunn's character on the Emmy-winning series Vince Gilligan, covered not only his advocacy for the disability community, living with cerebral palsy, but his life behind the scenes as a dedicated friend with a passion for life, deep knowledge base and empathy in Bill.

"R.J. was a walking encyclopedia, a human Swiss Army knife of knowledge. It didn't matter what you were talking about; he knew something about it, and more often than not he knew enough to teach you something new, even if you thought you were already an expert. He could spend time talking anime to teenagers and then turn around and talk about rock and roll systems." Brocato, who also represents actors such as David Faustino, Kiova Gordon, Lexi Pantera, Raymond Cruz and Caitlin O'Connor. "His mind was endlessly curious. He could relate to people from all walks of life because he was genuinely interested in the world around him and the people in it. There was always something to learn from R.J. and there was never a dull moment when he was around."

Mitt loved playing video games, laughing, making others feel seen and appreciated, and always put others' happiness above his own for his friend's. Brocato also explained how Mitte travels the world to speak at conferences for free because he believes "the message is more important than the money."

He shared one particular anecdote about how the two stayed up late into the morning watching a Netflix comedy special from stand-up star Jim Jeffries and were laughing so hard when Mitte's mother, Dina Mitte, came out of her bedroom because the laughter woke her up. "I'll never forget him taking me to a little red bar in the middle of a cornfield in Texas and then trying to get me to learn how to line dance," she added.

Brocato believes that beyond the film and defensive work, Mitte's legacy will be the way he treats others.

"I truly believe that anyone who had the privilege of meeting R.J. walked away from that interaction experiencing something special. He had a way of making people feel seen, heard and accepted. He could make a stranger feel like a friend and someone who felt different feel like they belonged.

I can't imagine anyone meeting him and walking away without knowing the goodness of his heart. He was a wonderful person in every sense. Not because of his fame, his success, or the places he traveled, but because of the way he treated people when he had absolutely nothing to gain. This was his greatest achievement."

See his statement in full below or here.

My statement on the passing of R.J. dead

This is without a doubt one of the most painful and difficult things I have ever had to write. As I sit here with tears in my eyes trying to process the sadness that sometimes seems too much to bear, I try my best to find the words to express what is in my heart.

First of all, I want to personally thank each and every one of you who have made this happen. I have been overwhelmed by the calls, texts, social media messages and comments from hundreds of people all over the world. People who met R.J. At some point in their lives, my friends who met him over the years, and countless others whose lives he touched in one way or another. I sincerely apologize for not being able to reply to everyone sooner. I am still in complete shock, completely devastated, and struggling to find the emotional capacity to process this loss, let alone put my feelings into words.

The entertainment industry can be transactional by its very nature. Clients are often just clients, and sometimes these professional relationships turn into casual friendships. But every so often someone comes into your life with whom you have a connection that goes far beyond business or friendship. Someone who becomes more than one friend. Someone who becomes family.

From the moment we met, just a few weeks after his 21st birthday, we became instant friends. Over the years, we've spent an incredible amount of time together, traveling around the world to make appearances, press conferences and meet with presidents and prime ministers. I've had the privilege of seeing her stand in front of packed halls of universities, members of Congress, Houses of Parliament, and even small community colleges and speak passionately about disability advocacy, accessibility, and inclusion.

But R.J. Never simply talking about making the world a better place, he challenged people to look within themselves, recognize what they have to offer, and use their abilities to help those in need. He wanted people to understand that inclusion is not just a concept to debate or a box to check. It was about how you treated people, how you made them feel, and whether or not you were willing to see that person beyond their circumstances.

R.J. He was a rare type of person who wanted to see others happy long before he thought about his own happiness. He wanted everyone to feel welcome, accepted and valued regardless of their appearance, disability, education or background.

I watched him get down on his knees to talk to someone in a wheelchair simply because he wanted to be at eye level. He didn't want them to look at him. He wanted them to feel equal, because to him, they were.

It was R.J. He didn't just talk about equality. He lived it.

He was someone who would give up everything he did to help others. He traveled around the world to speak at conferences without being paid because he believed the message was more important than the money. He devoted countless days to volunteer work at Shriners Hospitals for Children and the United Cerebral Palsy Foundation and never asked for anything in return.

He put his time, energy and heart because he really wanted to make a difference. And he did.

We've spent countless nights in airports, faced delays and canceled flights, shared adventures around the world, and experienced moments most people will never experience in their lifetime. I've been there to celebrate some of his greatest accomplishments, and I've been there for some of his toughest moments. I was able to see the person behind the public image - a friend, a brother, a human being who meant so much to so many people.

R.J. It was a walking encyclopedia, a human Swiss army knife of knowledge. It didn't matter what topic you brought up; He knew something about it, and often enough to teach you something new, even if you thought you were already an expert. He could spend his time talking anime to teenagers and then go back and have an in-depth conversation with an engineer about rockets and propulsion systems.

His mind was endlessly curious. He could relate to people from all walks of life because he was genuinely interested in the world around him and its people. There was always something to learn from R.J., and there was never a dull moment when he was around.

As much as I could share countless stories about our work and the incredible experiences we had together, some of my most treasured memories are the moments when there was nothing to do, no publicity, no cameras, and no expectations. Only R.J. Being R.J. Just two friends being completely ridiculous and enjoying life.

I'll never forget the night we laughed at the new Jim Jeffries Netflix, especially at 3:30 in the morning when we burst out laughing and his mom came out of her bedroom to yell at us for waking her up.

I'll never forget him driving his 1969 Cougar through Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles with no seatbelt and a broken passenger seat that left me sitting at such an awkward angle that I could barely see the road.

I'll never forget him taking me to a tiny red bar in the middle of a cornfield in Texas and then trying to get me to learn how to line dance.

And I'll never forget the countless hours I spent sitting next to video games, making stupid jokes and laughing at things that probably wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

Those are the memories that hurt the most right now because they are the ones that remind me that beyond all that he did and every life he touched, he was my friend. my brother my family

I truly believe that anyone who has the honor of meeting R.J. He walked away from that interaction by experiencing something special. He had a way of making people feel seen, heard and accepted. He can make a stranger feel like a friend and make someone who feels different feel like they belong.

I can't imagine anyone meeting him and walking away without knowing the goodness of his heart. He was a wonderful person in every sense. Not because of his fame, his achievements, or the places he traveled, but because of the way he treated people. There is absolutely nothing to be gained by doing this.

This was his greatest achievement. This was his legacy.

And now, I'm trying to figure out how to move forward in a world where he's no longer here.

How do I get used to never getting another random video from you on Instagram? Do you never get another text on my phone or receive one of your unexpected calls? Never heard your voice or seen that unmistakable mischievous grin that so many people know and love?

How do I reconcile the fact that someone who was a constant part of my life is suddenly someone I can only remember through memories?

All I know is that I have lost a brother and with him I have lost a piece of my heart.