Chapter 11: Robin Williams: Kinship and Carpe Diem
"All it takes is a beautiful fake smile to hide an injured soul and they will never notice how broken you really are." - Robin Williams
I first remember watching Robin Williams in Hook where he played an adult Peter Pan, the child who never grew up (or in the case of the film an adult who rediscovers his inner child) that I associated with him going forward. His voice acting work in Aladdin where his boundless improvisation and riffing talents took 10-year old me on a virtual "acid trip", before I even knew what that meant. In Mrs. Doubtfire, where his transformation into the lovable Mrs. Euphegenia Doubtfire taught me how comedy could allow one to digest the more serious themes of divorce, separation, and the impact on the family. I watched What Dreams May Come at a sleepover with some of my church friends, where I was way too sober to enjoy the "creative" portrayals of death, suicide, and afterlife. As an aside, I witnessed my friends get stoned and I learned that night what the munchies look like as one guy consumed 3/4 of a XL Dominoes pizza and a roll of gimbap, Korean seaweed roll, by himself. And in my senior year of high school I took a Sociology class, the very definition of an Easy A, where the teacher showed us Dead Poets Society in the hopes that we too would be inspired by "carpe diem".
My college roommate, who was a film major, and I used to tape (for any millennials and Gen-Z who may be reading, before the days of TiVo and DVR we would buy blank VHS tapes and record episodes of TV on a VHS) episodes of Bravo's Inside the Actors Studio together. The episode that has long since remained with me is Robin Williams' appearance in 2001 where an audience member developed a hernia from laughing so hard and needed to be taken away in an ambulance after the taping.
https://www.ovationtv.com/watch/inside-the-actors-studio-classic-episodes/robin-williams/
"I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy. Because they know what it's like to feel absolutely worthless and they don't want anybody else to feel like that." - Robin Williams
I felt a particular connection with Robin Williams because he and I shared the same birthday of July 21st. As I viewed his art retroactively and watched the 2018 HBO Documentary Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind I realized I shared so much more. In the documentary he shared his upbringing where his father was away at work a lot and he was essentially raised as an only child, though he would come to know his half-brothers and half-sisters later in life. It's during those formative years that he learned to create voices and characters while playing with himself. While his loneliness sparked his creativity, the depressive side also developed fears of abandonment. As an only child and "latchkey kid", I saw a lot of myself in his upbringing. I was an only child, my immigrant parents both worked long hours so I spent many hours playing with action figures and creating "multi-verses" where Transformers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Superheroes all occupied the same spaces. I formed strong attachments to the cartoon characters I watched on television and tried (miserably I may add) to mimic their voices. I bought the Animaniacs soundtrack and sang along as Dot while my younger cousin sang the Wakko parts.
Watching his father laugh hysterically to Jonathan Winters on The Tonight Show and his mother entertain family members and guests, Robin saw humor as his vehicle to connect with others. His son Zak described his father's pathos was seeking to entertain and please others. His need to have an audience, communicate, and be funny was his drug. The endorphins he felt from standup comedy and making others laugh masked a lack of self-worth. As his son described when his father wasn't making people laugh, he didn't feel successful as a person. It can explain why he struggled with addiction with drugs, alcohol, and womanizing early in his career and relapsed into alcohol addiction later in his life as his star began to fade; it's as if his body was chasing a "high" that he could only get when was on stage. As comedian Lewis Black observed, Williams was a light that never knew how to turn himself off. It's why he exerted such a manic energy and physicality in his comedy, and why he continued to work tirelessly until his passing. For him it was a never ending struggle to keep himself fresh so he didn't burn out; until he did.
What Williams achieved with humor, I find myself trying the same through empathy and acts of service. Sharing in another person's pain and celebrating their joys are my drug. Remembering small details about a person and finding gifts with them in mind release endorphins that are directly tied to my self-worth. It's why I frequently volunteer myself to do favors for my friends. It's why I don't find social gatherings relaxing; because I feel compelled to come early to help set up, help serve people during, and stay late to help clean up. It's a large reason why I've been so reluctant to take time away from work and only taking my first vacation in over 3 years. When I'm not performing acts of service for colleagues and clients, I don't feel successful as a person. It's why I've struggled with codependency issues in the past. Because I don't feel accepted or valued unless I'm needed.
It's also why I feel such a strong emotional connection with some of Robin Williams' signature roles. There was a connective goodness in his characters. I am Mork in Mork & Mindy, the perpetual outsider who tries to understand human behavior and struggle to fit in. I am John Keating in Dead Poets Society wanting to inspire others to "make your life extraordinary". I am Parry in The Fisher King suffering from PTSD and trying to find love again. I felt like Dr. Sean Maguire in Good Will Hunting was talking about me when he described Will, "he pushes people away before they get a chance to leave him. It's a defensive mechanism. And for 20 years [almost 40 for me], he's been alone because of that." But I am also Dr. Maguire too, acknowledging my clients' abuse and convincing them (and myself) of their own inner demons and that it's "it's not your fault".
When I heard the news Robin Williams lost his life to suicide in 2014, I feared deep down that I would meet the same fate someday. I saw a brilliant, sensitive man who was in pain and only wanted to make others happy. I saw someone who struggles with self-expression unless he's riffing, as anyone who's listened to me sort through my thoughts and feelings in a stream of consciousness can attest. I saw a tireless physical exertion and energy to quiet the demons of depression and addiction. And like his character Dr. "Patch" Adams, I saw myself finding renewed purpose after contemplating suicide on multiple occasions. But while he found purpose and expression in the characters he voiced, I hope to find that same self-expression and self-confidence mastering my own voice.
When host James Lipton asked from the Bernard Pivot Questionnaire, "If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?"
Williams after his latest riff lapsed into a moment of sincerity, "If heaven exists, to know that there's laughter, that would be great thing".
I'm not in a rush to find out anymore. Carpe diem Mr. Keating.
Portrait Photography by: https://www.zacharyleeportrait.com
*If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health and in suicidal crisis, I strongly encourage one to listen patiently, affirm how important their lives are and how much you love them, DO NOT gaslight their emotional distress, and encourage and support them to seek help, whether calling the suicide hotline 800-273-8255, seeking therapy, starting medication, etc.
No promises or guarantees that it will help. But I hope you take it day-by-day and moment-by-moment; be quick to forgive yourself if you regress. And slowly the moments and days will get better again. - D.Lee (6/26/22)*
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