I felt punched in the
stomach when I heard about Robin Williams.
When he came to LA in the
70’s, all of us comics had our acts – material that we’d meticulously worked
on. Sure, every now and then we would try out new material, but we’d never seen
anyone like Robin. He would start with a piece about Shakespeare and then,
distracted by someone in the audience, would zoom off in a new direction, bouncing
off the lightning of ideas in his brain, firing and never misfiring.
At the time I was doing a
magic act; the stage was pre-set before I began. Robin went on before I did, picking
up my props and improvising with then. My magic act was ruined, but Robin
taught me to let go and flow with the moment. I’ve always been grateful to him
for that.
Robin’s energy was
uncontainable. When he was starting out, a typical night for him was performing
at the Comedy Store, driving an hour to Newport Beach to perform at the Laff
Stop, driving back late at night to do a show at the Hollywood Improv and finishing
at the Comedy Store with the Comedy Store Improv Players.
His new manager, Jack
Rollins, organized a showcase in the small room at the Comedy Store. The
audience was filled with the who’s who of Hollywood. When comics are being
judged by power players, we don’t take chances. We stick to our ‘A’ material. But
not Robin. I stood in the back next to Jack Rollins, watching Robin spin comedy
spontaneously, scoring laughs and admiration with his in-the-moment observations and impersonations. His manager turned
to me and said, “That man is going to be a movie star.”
Many people are shocked that
someone so funny could be suffering so profoundly. There is no comic who doesn’t understand; we
have all experienced the dark side of the laughs. That’s at the heart of
comedy; it’s the magic act of transforming pain into punch-lines. The good ones
make it look easy.
It’s impossible for me to
imagine a world without Robin. He did everything at a fast pace. Too bad that
includes his ending. I need him now to help us get through this terrible loss.
Your experiential insights , Judy, will hopefully cast some light on the tragedy AND humanity of the mental illness stigma. So many of us who lean toward the lighter side to sustain us during those debilitating mood shifts get labeled "crazy" or "looney" or "nutz." Nevertheless, it is the difference in perspective that creatives bring to the world that germinates, nurtures and sustains the culture we hold so dear, that dear, sweet and enviable out-of-the-box-ness is the same wackiness that can push loved ones over the edge.... to the point where their atypical mindset points them on this road, where the only goal is to escape the pain..... and suicide seems reasonable.
ReplyDeleteWith Jonathan Winters as his mentor, Robin Williams had a hero with quite similar talents and tribulations.
The public may never have their satisfaction in a simple reason for this finality..... but there is his legacy of joyful humor, energy and uniqueness..... and from that, perhaps, a lesson to acknowledge, honor and appreciate the differences we find in one another, rather than insisting on banal sameness.
Good night Captain, O' My Captain.
thank you Lindsey - beautifully written coment.
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