Saying Goodbye To Robin Williams

‘You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.’ – Robin Williams

I have seen very few celebrity deaths as impactful to so many as I have with Robin Williams’ passing on August 11^th, 2014. Within minutes, disbelief was flooding the internet. Within hours, film stills ranging from Popeye to Good Will Hunting to Aladdin were overcoming every brand of social media. By the next morning, tributes to various aspects of Williams’ work were found at just about every notable website you could muster a thought of.

Why is Robin Williams’ death, the clown prince of comedy, felt so much more deeply than so many others? There have been numerous creative talents lost to us over the years, why has this man in particular affected so many of us so passionately?

My answer? Robin Williams was one of us. So many actors and comedians go through life in such an elevated state, they cease being relatable. They feel almost illusionary, fictional. Throughout his vast and storied career, Williams never seemed to have lost his innate ability to connect with us on every level. I am not talking ‘popularity’, that is such a fickle thing that bends randomly at the whim of pop culture. I mean Williams was CONNECTED to us, all of us, in different ways.

Older audiences are reflecting on Williams’ early work as he burst on the scene as the alien Mork in Happy Days. His comedic work was so stellar, he was gifted with his own television series, Mork & Mindy, where his infamous catchphrase ‘Nanu Nanu’ took its place in the zeitgeist. They remember his stab at Robert Altman’s ill-fated Popeye. While that film might have been off-course as a whole, rarely has a comic character been as perfectly captured as Williams’ insanely accurate portrayal of the titular sailor.

They also remember his stand-up. Back in the early 80’s, Robin Williams was one of the best stand-up comedians working. Not only was he hilarious to watch, he was ridiculously FAST! Keeping up with Robin Williams on a stage was akin to running step-by-step with Prefontaine. His ADD-style delivery, veering from one topic to another with the smoothness of a train transitioning tracks, has yet to be matched. For the young kids out there, Robin Williams was the Eminem of comedy – a man with a comedic vernacular of mythological proportions.

Younger audiences are remembering his stellar work in films across a wide spectrum of genres. In the early 80’s, few believed that Williams could ever tone down his comedic nuances to carry an overtly dramatic role. Williams crushed those naysayers in 1987 when he released his Oscar-nominated role as Adrian Cronauer in Gooooooooooood Morning, Vietnam. In between his typical bits and shtick, Williams offered the audience a fully realized character. Even more so, he gave us a glimpse of the actor to come.

With Vietnam opening doors, Williams took Hollywood by storm. He no longer remained pigeon-holed and began making films of every possible type. Dead Poets Society, Cadillac Man, Awakenings, The Fisher King, Hook, Bicentennial Man, Jumanji, Good Will Hunting (his only Oscar win), Mrs. Doubtfire…the list goes on and on.

He went on to even darker material in the later portion of his career. In films such as Insomnia, One Hour Photo, the vastly underrated Death To Smoochy, and even his guest spots on Law & Order SVU, Williams continued to show that there was no box he would easily slide into. There seemed to be no character that Williams could not play, and after time, ‘Robin Williams – The Comedian’ was nothing more than yet one more character in his overwhelming arsenal.

In his films, I generally preferred Williams’ sly mix of humor and heartfelt empathy. He had a wondrous gift of crafting a character that felt like someone real, someone tangible. Far too often, actors reach for this realism a bit much and it comes across as ‘acting’. Williams truly understood the very center of the human condition to a point few actors ever do.

Take Mrs. Doubtfire, for example. Most see a typically wacky Williams comedy that is made more humorous because a grown man dresses up like an aging Mary Poppins. I see a character that is desperate to hold onto any semblance of his family, through any means possible, even lowering himself to have to pretend to be someone else simply to remain close to his children. To me, that was the beauty of Williams’ performances. Much like Tom Hanks, he perfectly captured that passionate soul of the everyman.

Through all of his numerous characterizations and vastly expansive body of work, one thing remained consistently true: Robin Williams was always a child at heart with a deep desire to leave everyone he met, just a little happier then when he found them. When his close friend, Christopher Reeve, was laid up in a hospital bed following his tragic accident…Robin Williams showed up in full scrubs offering his proctology services, bringing Reeve his admitted first smile since facing his seemingly dour fate.

Williams named his daughter Zelda, yes, after the video game. He voiced the genie in 1992’s Aladdin (creating the new standard of popular actors voicing animated characters), and did so almost exclusively through improv. From Johnny Carson to Jay Leno to Conan O’Brien, talk shows loved Williams for bringing that magnetic spark of genius to every show he did. Williams could act like an adult whenever it was called for, but deep at his core – he was nothing more than one extremely hairy kid.

Whatever may come from Robin Williams’ personal struggles (and like most of us, he had many), ‘how’ this genius madman died is of little consequence. We have all lost a beautiful talent with his passing, and what we all should take away from this instead is how this man lived. He made a career out of wonderfully nuanced performances and was widely acknowledged as an extremely giving man, but is being remembered most of all for always doing what so many of us fail to do in our everyday lives: He kept that little child in him vigorously alive and excitedly shared that unbelievable joy with the world.

We should live each day as though it is a brand new opportunity to make your spouse smile, to hear your children laugh, to better someone’s day. Do not spend your time focusing on the pain of this great actor’s passing, but rather celebrate this man who has brightened so many of our own days by venturing out and lifting someone else’s.

Throughout his entire career, that is what Robin Williams has wanted to offer us. A simple, devilish smile. One that can change the course of our day from dour to whimsical in a fleeting moment. This is how I will choose to remember Robin Williams, the maniacal clown prince. That rare actor, nay PERSON, who never failed to bring a smile to my face, as well as to most of you reading this.

You have left behind truly wonderful gifts of both laughter and heart, Robin, and we are thankful for them all. Wherever your beautiful soul rests now, I only hope they are prepared for the overwhelming joy they are about to endure.

 

Thank you for everything, my Captain

 

 

Aaron Peterson
The Hollywood Outsider