O Captain, My Captain: Farewell, Robin Williams

He was one of us.

Oscar-winning actor Robin Williams passed away sometime around noon today in his California home. He was 63. According to police it is due to asphyxiation, and already there is rampant speculation that it was suicide. Common sense says it is, but a final autopsy has yet to be performed. He had apparently been battling depression over the years, and recently checked into rehab. It seems he had enough and took his life. And the world is lesser for that.

We’ve already reported the initial news, but the man left us a deep body of work it almost demands a look back. Better journalists than I will tell you everything you need to know about his death, and I never met him so I couldn’t tell you a thing about his life (except that he was a wrestler in high school, something we have in common that I remember him saying in an episode of Inside The Actors’ Studio.) You’ll read comprehensive retrospectives on his life and career in the coming days, and I do not have the resources to write one up that is worth reading. But I can tell you two things:

1) Like you, I grew up watching him, and 2) He was a huge nerd.

You’ll hear Mork & Mindy and Saturday Night Live mentioned a lot. Everyone should absolutely see Good Morning, Vietnam. No matter what. But those films will be mentioned in spades on news broadcasts and other articles. What of his other work?

He had the look and charisma of a fun dad or uncle, and his roles made you wish he was in your family. People of my generation (I was born 1992) fondly remember family-fare films like Aladdin, where he played a genie that could imitate Jack Nicholson in a fictional, exoticized Middle East and totally get away with it; Mrs. Doubtfire, although backwards in gender politics, was still the loving story of a father who just wanted to be with his kids, and Jumanji. There was also Hook, Jack, and Patch Adams and Flubber, maybe. As we grew up, we saw Bicentennial Man, to some confusion. My dad liked it. I remember One Hour Photo of some significance. He had the reputation of a family-friendly actor, and it was the first time we saw him in a terrifying light. You can say all you want about Night at the Museum, but his wax Teddy Rosevelt is one of the best things about it. I suspect any person in their 20’s who saw the Teddy imitator at the World Cup had Mr. Williams in their head. I spent many weekday nights crying at his reruns in the 2000’s-era of Whose Line Is It Anyway?

When I got used to the idea of Netflix, World’s Greatest Dad was on my queue and I loved it without mercy. I haven’t seen it more than once, and I don’t need to. Williams’ portrayal of a failed artist living in suburban hell was hypnotizing, and in the end memorable. His comedic came out in full-force demonstrating a different kung-fu, the style of Apatow-style apathy. (“I didn’t think you’d know that.” “Jason, I’m white.”)

I finally saw Good Will Hunting in college a few years ago. Robin Williams’ care of Matt Damon further endeared me to him, and he played the mentor as good as anyone could. Then I saw Insomnia, and suddenly he was the enemy.

In 2006 he starred in the little-known The Night Listeners, to which Williams earned acclaim. My professor at Rutgers directed the film, and even though they only did one movie together, he was always ready with a Robin Williams story. I learned a few fun tricks to filmmaking learning from my professor. “I did this with Robin,” he would say sometimes while explaining how to set up different shots.

People also forget that Williams was a huge nerd. He did a Reddit AMA, and confessed he was an anime fan. He loved Cowboy Bebop, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and absolutely fucking loved Ghost in the Shell. He was a gamer, and named his daughter Zelda. He grew up reading C.S. Lewis, particularly The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe, but his favorite books were Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. I would have loved to have gotten to know him and walk the Comic-Con floor together.

Robin Williams was 63, but his career was far from over. I did not see The Crazy Ones, it flew under my radar before I had the chance. He has a movie in post-production, a Christmas comedy, which might have gone unnoticed but his passing will ensure people will at least check it out. I will.

Robin Williams had the career few people could ever have. He transcended generations. We all have different values, different tastes, and right now the world is plagued because of differences. The power of cinema is strange, and Robin Williams harnessed that power to do one thing: He made us all laugh together.

We should also not forget that he battled depression for several years, and took his own life. If you or someone you know are struggling, there is always someone willing to listen. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. You are not alone.

Robin, we hope you rest in peace.