Remembering Robin Williams
By Jason Barney
January 5, 2015
BoxOfficeProphets.com
This holiday season bought us the third Night at the Museum film. One of the actors featured is the iconic Robin Williams, in what will be his last onscreen performance. This is the final time any of us will see new material from one of the all-time greats. It is only appropriate to look back and remember some of the laughs and to note just how significant one performer can be.
My first exposure to Robin Williams was probably in the late 1970s. I was only five or six and reruns of Mork and Mindy were on. Other shows like Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley helped uniquely identify what entertainment was during the time period. I have never gone back and re-watched those old episodes. Perhaps I will at some point, since Robin Williams is now gone.
The first time I could identify the actor/comedian by name was in fourth or fifth grade. My fairly protective parents never let me watch anything too violent or with too much crass language, so I had not heard of Williams beyond his days as an alien. Friends, of course, have big brothers and sisters. Not only do older siblings help expose you to the realities of life, they allow you to see more of the world, especially when parents are not around.
So, I was over to a friend’s house and an older brother or sister was supposed to be taking care of my small group of friends. They were, but they were also playing a VHS tape of a Robin Williams standup comedy act. I was too young to get all of his jokes. And Robin Williams was using curse words only my mother and father were allowed to say. So we watched as though we were just a bit younger, devouring Saturday morning cartoons. We laughed, because we saw something we shouldn’t and Robin Williams gained my respect. He was overflowing with foul language only my father could use.
In the summer of 1986, a time period when I became vaguely aware of the idea of new films at the box office, Robin Williams starred in Good Morning Vietnam. The Vietnam War had been over for over a decade by then, and I still wasn’t old enough to understand all of the content of the film, but again, I watched it when my parents were not around.
As I got older, entered my young adulthood and many entertainment decisions became my own, I became a big Robin Williams fan. I didn’t get the chance to see everything he did but was aware that he, Whoopi Goldberg, and Billy Crystal achieved a comedic status in the early 1990s that was unmatched at the time.
At some point in my teenage years, I realized there was much more to Robin Williams than the comedy roles. It is hard to identify, but if you looked at his face, the honest eyes, the thin lips, and pointy chin at certain moments, it was as though this performer was establishing a friendship with you. His warm smile was like a comforting arm around your shoulders. A silent conversation between actor and fan developed. He was able to communicate so well through his facial expressions and one clear message was, “Thank you for watching, we are in this weird thing called life… together.”
My respect for Robin Williams and my interest in his career really skyrocketed with 1989’s Dead Poets Society. Aside from the accolades (Williams received an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor), the role of Professor Keating was inspirational. His comedic talents were tucked away, and he wasn’t relying on one liners. For a guy who was so active, energetic and raw with his humor, he succeeded incredibly at transitioning to a mature role. Robin Williams delivered one of the all-time classic performances.
I was a teenager at the time, in that interesting phase of life of late high school and college, and I was exploring my own career options. Teaching was one of them. I had a few good educators, and one of the keys to their success was their ability to effectively communicate their own love for the subject matter. Williams and the Dead Poets were so influential to my thinking that I tried to understand poetry. Poetry? My god. I had good grades in English, but it was far from my favorite subject. And what high school boy wants to be identified with poetry? Well, I did. A little. John Keating allowed me to understand it was okay to be inspired by and excited about material in school. On some level, his portrayal of a teacher willing to take risks influenced my decision to become an educator.
I began actively following his career. I didn’t see all of his projects, but boy, if you knew anything about the film industry in the early to mid 1990s, Robin Williams had blossomed into a giant. 1991’s Hook was a huge success. In 1992, he took on the memorable role of the “Genie in the Lamp” in Aladdin. His face wasn’t even on screen, but there he was. His overflowing energy erupted through his voice and he entertained so many kids in what is seen as one of Disney’s best children’s films.
In 1993, Williams was able to teach us all something about family and children with Mrs. Doubtfire. If you need to know anything about his star power, understand Mrs. Doubtfire was made for $25 million. It took in $441 million worldwide. The plot was zany enough where the old Robin came out to play. The content and the story were mature enough where parents and thoughtful moviegoers could sit back and be thoroughly entertained. Mrs. Doubtfire provides some truly classic moments, and Williams’ talents made that film.
Over the last two decades, his career was up and down, but it never rekindled the financial peak of the 1990s. He continued to earn the respect of the industry, as he won Best Supporting Actor in 1997’s Good Will Hunting. He successfully expanded his reach as a performer with eerie characters in One Hour Photo and Insomnia. It was just a pleasure to see him try out different roles, work on different things, and maintain his status. He certainly didn’t do anything to hurt his career.
As this holiday season wraps up, and America maintains the traditions of using movies as entertainment venues, we have the arrival of his final movie. He isn’t the star of Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb. He will still be onscreen, though, and there will be no more performances after this one. It is sad that one of America’s most memorable performers has passed. From his substance abuse issues early in his career to his stints in rehab, the public was well aware that Williams was dealing with demons. We will remember his humanity but celebrate the stories he was involved with. How can you not? Observe the smiles and laughter when a 6-year-old hears his voice in Aladdin. Watch a pre-teen glued to the screen when something like Jumanji is on. His value as an entertainer will at least forever be captured on film.
Williams not being with us here is a sad loss. It is not to the level of a family member passing… but in a way, it is almost as bad. Williams’ roles and talents helped define laughter and smiles for so many. His characters are anchored with memories for each of us. And now he is gone.
This will be the final time to see an original Williams’ performance. He isn’t the star of the Night at the Museum Franchise, but he is a big part of the series’ appeal, bringing Teddy Roosevelt to life. It's another Robin Williams effort that leans towards entertaining America’s children, perhaps what he did best. It won’t be a defining role. However, I will take my 9-year-old son to see him.
An appropriate measure of the entertainment status achieved by Williams might be to see how well his work, captured by time, keeps the attention of different generations. Remember, I was five when Mork and Mindy was on television. That was the late 1970s. 2014 has turned into 2015 and my son will see Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb. He’s watching Aladdin, Jumanji, and other Williams movies.
I’d say Williams’ legacy is already standing the test of time.