I should not be writing this. Like everyone else, I did not see this
coming. Like everyone else, I am
saddened in ways difficult to put into words.
This is a tribute that should not have been written for at least another
few decades.
And yet, here we are. On August 11, 2014, Robin Williams committed
suicide by hanging. That someone who
seemed to be so full of joy, and energy, and laughter could do this has shocked
and upset both myself and pretty much everyone else I know. In some cases, much to my disappointment, his
death has brought out some of the worst bile humanity has to offer; his
daughter recently announced the closure of her social media pages semi-permanently due to the level of vitriol thrown at her after the news broke. But, I think, in many more instances, as sad
and tragic and horribly unnecessary as this was, there are already glimmers of
light breaking through. The deluge of
stories about Robin’s gentleness, his kindness, and his humanity surpass anything
I personally recall seeing in reaction to a celebrity death. There are no tales being passed around about
how wretched he was off-camera. No horror
stories about the techies off-stage at a comedy show he hurled verbal abuse
at. All I hear about is about how he
seemed to almost compulsively bring smiles to the faces of others, whether or
not he was being recorded. His death has
led many to revisit his work in film, TV, and comedy with renewed appreciation
for the wholly unique abilities he brought to bear, talents that few performers
have ever been able to match. And,
perhaps most importantly, more and more people are now trying to have a serious
dialogue about depression and its connections to both drugs and to the
overwhelming cult of celebrity we all contribute to in one way or another. People are reaching out to each other, both
on- and offline, and that can only be a good thing.
I am not in a position to offer
thoughts or judgments as to why he made this choice. My own thoughts concerning suicide are very
conflicted, to say the least. And
obviously, I never knew the man personally.
I just know that I am sad. I
suffer with regular (possibly manic) depression myself, and if there is one my
own journey has convinced me of, it is of the necessity of always, always
seeking humble compassion within ourselves for others in their own difficult
situations, and if possible, understanding.
We never truly know what others go through. Whether or not you agree with the decisions
someone makes, or how they respond to whatever circumstances they’re in, you’ve
got to have compassion. There’s just no
other way to handle things like this.
The curious thing I’ve noticed,
though, is how so many people writing about him now are reflecting on how it
really did feel as if they knew him personally, how, in whatever their favorite
film of his was, it always felt as if the genuine Robin Williams, or at least a
part of him, was reaching through the screen to speak with them on an
individual level. No matter what part he
played, or what medium he was using at the time, regardless of the quality of
movie or show he was in, he never came across as less than real. He was like an extra crazy uncle for each of
us- weird, eccentric, loud, perhaps a bit overbearing at times, and never
staying away for too long at a stretch. Or,
as Mara Wilson phrased it (in a far more succinct form than I ever could), “We're all his goddamn kids too.”
I think there is ultimately no
greater tribute to the immense talent and range of Robin as an actor, comedian,
performer, and personality than to simply take note of the very, very wide
range of films and roles being mentioned in the various memorials and “Best Of”
lists now circulating the internet; Popeye,
Good Morning Vietnam, Mork and Mindy, Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Good Will Hunting, Insomnia, Hook, Jumanji, Dead Poet’s Society, Patch
Adams. Just go over in your mind the
incredibly wide range of styles, genres, topics, and characters those films
cover. That was what always impressed me
the most when it came to Robin Williams- even if I didn’t like the film itself,
I never found his performances anything less than interesting. There are almost no performers alive today
for whom an entire scene in the script could simply read, “Robin Williams does
his thing.” And the above films are not
just seen on lists made by dedicated cinephiles- these are films mentioned by pretty
near everyone, from lifelong critics to people who couldn’t be bothered to go
to the theater more than once a year.
How many other performers have
succeeded, over several decades no less, in having such a broad popular reach, in
touching the hearts of so many generations through so many different
performances? Many, if not most, actors
and actresses, regardless of how long they live or how many films they make,
are only popularly remembered for one or a few key roles that “define” their careers. Robin’s death happened to coincide with the
death of another Hollywood legend, Lauren Bacall. Even though she lived to be 89 and appeared
in dozens of roles over the years, only a few of her movies (primarily her
appearances with Humphrey Bogart and Marilyn Monroe) have seeped their way into
general public consciousness. Or look at
the equally tragic passing earlier this year of Philip Seymour Hoffman- even
though he gave us powerhouse performances in one incredible film after another,
he was never the popular, household name Robin was- mentioning his name would
not cause 15 different people to quote 15 different lines from 15 different
movies simultaneously. I say this not to
imply that Robin was more talented or more worthy of remembrance than Hoffman
or Bacall, just to point out that he had a very unique gift that most never
realize, a way of affecting people on both an individual and a communal level,
of making us feel collectively that he was speaking to each of us
personally. And he did so repeatedly
over a career spanning nearly four decades.
What a wonderfully unique gift.
What a great emptiness left in its wake.
In keeping with the spirit of the
current times, then, and as my own small gesture, the following are the Robin
Williams roles that, for various reasons, stand out the most in my mind and
have the greatest meaning for me personally.
6. August Rush
This movie has a number of
issues. Robin Williams is not one of
them. This actually happened to be the first
film of his I saw where he was playing, if not technically a villain, certainly
an antagonist. Playing the huckster “Wizard”
Wallace, he controls a small army of extremely gifted child street performers,
who have to give him every cent they collect while out on the streets. I admire the words the character speaks about
the power of music, but it’s also fascinating to see the cold manipulation
simmering just beneath the surface. It’s
a character who seems to have popped in from another, very different
movie.
5. The Birdcage
It has been way too long since I
last watched this one. Robin Williams
alongside Nathan Lane as a gay couple trying to hide their real personalities
from an uptight, conservative couple for the sake of their son’s engagement. Enough said, I think.
4. Awakenings
When I first saw this movie, I was as
deeply impressed by Robin Williams’ underplayed, quiet-as-a-mouse Dr. Sayer as
I was moved by De Niro’s powerful turn as an emotional child trapped in a
paralyzed man’s body. It is one of my
favorite movies for both of these greats.
The scene that captured Robin Williams’ performance in it for me was
when De Niro tries to force his way out of the hospital, and Sayer watches in
agony as he is forced to the ground.
3. Insomnia
The lone Chris Nolan-directed work
(thus far) that is a) a remake, and b) was not written by either him or his
brother, Walter Finch is my absolute favorite of Robin’s villain roles. A psychotic murderer who sees himself as the real
victim, Robin is perfect in how he uses his mind-games to get under the skin of
Al Pacino’s Will Dormer.
2. Good Will
Hunting
A bit clichéd, perhaps, since this
was the one that finally brought Williams his Oscar, but there is just
something about the on-screen chemistry between Williams and Damon in their
scenes that I can’t get enough of. I especially
like that one of the most famous scenes in the movie was an example of Robin
drawing on his improvisational skills for heartfelt drama, rather than for hard
laughs.
1. Aladdin
Have I mentioned on this this site
yet that I am a 90’s kid? Then let the
record officially show that I am a 90’s kid.
Meaning that, as someone raised on the Golden Age of Disney, there will
never be a role more definitive of Robin Williams for me personally than his
pyrotechnical turn as the Genie in one of the top Disney films of the era. You can feel the kinetic energy of the
performance emanating off the screen.
This performance alone should have ended all debate about whether or not
voice acting should be considered “real” acting. It is one of my favorite Disney works from
those years, and it is my favorite role by Robin Williams. Rest in peace, at long last, Robin Williams. You will be sorely missed.
-Noah
Franc
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