This week, the suicide of Robin Williams shook the entire world to its core. Robin Williams, famous for his stand-up comedy and acting in numerous films, touched many people’s lives and hearts. The team of Film Inquiry too, was greatly saddened by the magnificent actor’s death, and we would like to pay our tribute to him by all sharing some of our fondest memories of him and his work, and the impact he had on us.
Alistair Ryder
It’s only recently that I’ve realized what a big part Robin Williams has played in my development as a movie lover. As a very young child, one of the first videotapes my parents bought me was Flubber, a film I didn’t like, and subsequently led to my parents being more careful in the movie choices they made for their son. When I was 8 or 9 years old, one of the first “adult” movies I saw was One Hour Photo (another one of the first “adult” movies I saw was I Spit on Your Grave, so it’s remarkable that I’ve managed to become a fully functioning adult). Heck, the first serious conversation I had with one of my friends about a film was an hour-spanning conversation about the relative merits of Mrs. Doubtfire whilst on a coach trip to France when I was 11.
However, it’s only recently that I’ve seen my favourite Robin Williams performance. I knew he was a comedy legend, but his acting performances I always felt were either too sappy, too kid friendly, or in the case of One Hour photo or Christopher Nolan’s Insomnia, too self-consciously cast against type.
In Terry Gilliam, Williams found a director who could twist his manic stage persona into something truly outstanding. The Fisher King stars Jeff Bridges as a Howard Stern-style shock-jock, whose on air banter with a mentally damaged individual unintentionally leads to a mass shooting at a “yuppie bar”. Two years later, he has reached rock bottom, attempting suicide only to be rescued by a homeless man (played by Williams) on a deluded quest to find the Holy Grail.
Why Williams’ character is in this shattered mental state is best left undisclosed- but it makes for truly harrowing viewing, more so in the wake of his passing earlier this week. His performance twists the intense desire to be liked that is so inherent in his stand-up into something that is truly unique in his filmography; he gave good performances again, just none that ever used his persona to such winning effect.
Jacqui Siler
I’ve been avoiding writing this contribution to the August collaborative article for Film Inquiry. Since Monday, I’ve been going back to fond memories from my childhood featuring Robin Williams. I was born in the late 80s, so I grew up on movies like Hook, Aladdin, Mrs. Doubtfire, Fern Gully, and even Patch Adams and Jack made appearances. I distinctly remember requesting to rent Patch Adams multiple times, actually. As I got older, I consistently returned to Robin Williams’ work, discovering new sides to the actor in films like Dead Poet’s Society, What Dreams May Come, Good Will Hunting,The Birdcage and Good Morning Vietnam. I don’t think I can pick a favourite but I think it’s fair to say that Aladdin had the most influence on me as a youngster. Of course it started because Genie is just a funny character, but when I found out the incredible behind-the-scenes stories associated with it, it just made me love Robin Williams more, and my loyalty grew out of that.
In my reflections upon the man this week, I began to appreciate him as a person, not just an actor, admiring his charity work and extreme kindness, which was evident even despite the vast social distance between ourselves. I’ve realised a reason I always felt so connected to him and his work was the representation of the dark side of the human mind along with the light. There was always sense of understanding in those twinkling eyes, a hint that there was something real being called upon for the performances.
As someone suffering from depression myself, I found him inspiring and that hasn’t changed. What I’d like people to remember is the man who put the whole world before his own happiness, if it meant he could make someone smile. That’s a heavy weight to drag with you and while I wish he hadn’t left us the way he did and that somehow I could have repaid him for the countless hours of happiness he gave me, I can’t bring myself to be angry at him. I will be eternally grateful for his existence in my life and his influence on me as an artist.
Manon de Reeper
Whereas most people in the world got the news about Robin Williams’ death in the evening, I, living in Australia, got the news right after I woke up. First thing I did was Google his name for his Wikipedia page – it hadn’t even been updated yet, and so, I still had hope that it was a hoax. As time progressed, it became increasingly clear he really did die: my childhood hero.
I realized exactly how big of an influence Robin had had on me in my youth: most of his movies were among my favorite. Hook was part of the reason I got obsessed with anything pirate. And oh, Jumanji. I even wished for a (real!) Jumanji board for Christmas (even looked for it in stores myself when I was out with mom, and every time I was so disappointed I couldn’t find it). Furthermore, Aladdin is my very favorite Disney movie, I’ve seen it a million times. As I grew up, I watched his less kids-appropriate films, too, and loved them. The passion he brought to each and every one of his characters was awe-inspiring.
When I was in Australia for the first time in September last year, with my partner, we saw a trailer of The Crazy Ones on TV. I haven’t seen it mentioned much in his memorials in the past week. The show started shortly after we’d decided to move to Australia (from The Netherlands), and we watched it during out first few months here. He was a familiar face in a challenging time. The show wasn’t received well, in general, but I loved The Crazy Ones. In hindsight, though, it felt like Robin channeled a lot of himself through his character, Simon Roberts. Like Robin, Simon had a back story of addiction and depression, even divorce, but both smiled and joked throughout.
I’ve never really felt this touched by a death of a celebrity, but this week, every time I read about him and the circumstances of his death, I couldn’t help but tear up. I’ve never been so surprised to learn how much love the internet has been able to spread. It’s been crazy. Rest in peace, Robin.
Jay Ledbetter
When I found out Robin Williams died, I was extraordinarily sad. I was far sadder than I would have believed if the hypothetical was presented the day before. Then I took a second to look back at his work, and I realized that I actually wasn’t a fan of the large majority of his film work. He was an off-the-wall comedian who would go on incredible tangents about topics ranging from politics to pop culture to his own life (often speaking of his vices, which have been well documented—especially in the days since his death) at a rate of speed that many people were incapable of following. Sometimes, the back-and-forth bits he had between himself and a thousand other personalities stuck in his incredible comedic mind were tiring, but his talent was undeniable.
He was truly a cartoon stuck in the physical world. Williams’ style was brought to the fantastical realm it was more suited for when Disney decided to turn him into the frenetic Genie in 1992’s Aladdin. It was a match made in heaven. The magical Middle Eastern world allowed Williams’ style to take on an entirely new (and more suitable) visual format. Being a genie allowed Williams’ characters to physically transform. He could conjure up any number of props to complement his act. Whereas the real life Williams’ act was sometimes exhausting, his performance as Genie is incredibly endearing and unrelentingly hilarious.
Aladdin is one of Disney’s premiere animated films, and Robin Williams is one of the major reasons for that. The movie will always hold a special place in my heart as one of the first movies I can ever remember watching (it came out when I was the ripe age of 1). For years after, Genie was just Genie. But as time has passed, the movie has made me appreciate the unmatched energy of Robin Williams, the real-life Genie. It is said that Williams recorded 30 hours of audio for Aladdin. The bits they chose from these recordings are proof positive that when Williams’ is at his best, he is a giant of comedy. He will be missed. And he will always be remembered.
Christopher Burns
Part of my primary cinematic education was spent with Robin Williams. For a melancholy and super serious kid like myself, films like Hook, Aladdin, Jumanji and Mrs.Doubtfire each moved me and showed me variations in humour and warmth in their own ways. In Hook he was something magical, in Aladdin he was grandiose and utterly hilarious, the same goes for Mrs. Doubtfire, while in Jumanji he conjured up a wonderful vulnerability amidst all the supernatural chaos. But it wasn’t these flashes of Robin Williams that opened my eyes to his charisma and talent.
It was Good Will Hunting. Robin Williams as Sean Maguire managed to be something new entirely for me as a film fan and it was sold to me in once scene. When Williams’ Sean first meets Matt Damon’s Will, the pair face off like two wounded, frightened beasts until Will brazenly insults Sean about a picture he had painted and then goes on to crack a disrespectful remark over Sean’s late wife. It’s right then that Sean lifts of the ground and lunges at Will with his hand tightening around his throat. His eyes pulsating out of his skull almost while so feverishly animated, he seems ready to kill Will right there and then in the heat of this vengeful passion.
And there it was for me; Robin Williams unleashed an energy that commanded a respect and fear in that one moment and it flawed me completely. Matt Damon’s Will, well he’s never the same again after spending time with Sean Maguire and neither was I to tell the truth. His stories, his wit and his humour light up Good Will Hunting every time he is on the screen. I have re-watched Good Will Hunting many times over and every time I find something new in Robin’s beautifully, nuanced and delicate portrayal. But I always found something in a Robin Williams performance as he was a truly gifted performer, one of the greats, and cinema, for one, will be a dark, dark place without him.
Kimberly Gamble
Robin Williams was so many things to such a broad range of people. He was a comedian, a clown, a humanitarian, an actor, a friend, and family. To me, he was the amazingly funny guy in all the best movies. I grew up watching Mrs. Doubtfire a hundred times on cable. My friends and I were obsessed with Jumanji and had our parents buy the board game so we could recreate the adventure. Genie’s song from Aladdin “You Ain’t Never had a Friend Like Me” was a constant tune stuck in my head. Had it not been for Williams, these characters would have never come to life.
Later on in life, I grew to anticipate him in comedies, but he shocked us all with dramas like World’s Greatest Dad and One Hour Photo. And we saw him in a new light – what a tremendous ability to morph into any character he wanted.
Robin Williams’s death will be mourned for decades to come. His fans will never forget what amazing films and characters he brought to the world. There will never be another like him.
Derrek Greene
Robin, you were always there in my formative years. I remember the first time I saw you while watching Mork and Mindy re-runs. Jokes I didn’t quite get at 3 or 4, but an energy that drew me in. Hook followed shortly there after, I followed you to Neverland, and I cheered when you rediscovered your ability to fly. Aladdin. Aladdin was the best when I was a kid, the genie was amazing, I quoted it all the time, and that game for Genesis, your levels were my favorite. Mrs. Doubtfire, as the kids walk up the stairs wishing their dad was still there, “I’m here guys, well, in some form.” How true those words really are.
Then, right around the time Jumanji and Jack came out, my inner cinephile sought out more of your work and discovered two very different movies. “Goooooood Morning Vietnam!”, how funny and how moving I found the movie, even at 8 years old. And then there’s Toys, what a crazy movie for a kid to watch. Beautiful and eclectic, such a subtle performance. Good Will Hunting is still one of my favorite movies. The dialog you have about what love truly is:
But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell.
Delivered with the heart and should of someone who’s lived those words, believes those words, and pours himself into every performance he gave. I still can’t get over the ending of Patch Adams, get’s me every time. One Hour Photo was brilliantly dark, your performance being sympathetic and horrifying at the same time. I loved you in Death to Smoochy and The Final Cut. RV and Man Of The Year were decently funny, if not a little cheesy. The last movie I watched that you starred in was World’s Greatest Dad. It was a little haunting considering some of the driving plot points. Still wonderful acting though, an underrated film for sure. We’ll miss you, Robin. I’ll miss you. Thank you for every wonderful scene, every perfectly timed joke, and every lovable character. Rest in peace Mr. Williams.
What are your fondest memories of Robin Williams? Please feel free to share in the comments – we’d all love to read your stories.
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