When you look at celebrity deaths from a large scale perspective, you realize how meaningless their lives really were: What did Kurt Cobain do with his time in the spotlight before he killed himself? When you summate someone's contributions to the world at large to only a few years and two major album releases, you see how little Cobain left for his generation. In fact, to paraphrase Prof. Dave Mustaine, the lasting message of Kurt Cobain's career was "suicide is okay".
This past year, Paul Walker from the Fast & Furious movie series died. People were saddened, to be sure, but on a personal level, I was unaffected. I have seen the first FF movie, and it is not good. I've seen Varsity Blues and Eight Below, too; not great. In fact, the only movie I recall him starring in that was even slightly better than mediocre was She's All That, and that movie succeeded in spite of his contributions. By all measurements of an actor, Paul Walker was not an exceptional one.
But still, people went out of their way to remember him, and commemorate his career through social media, FaceBook posts, etc. That was all that could be done for him, and honestly, that's all he deserved.
Very rarely does a celebrity die that deserved the term artist, and in no uncertain terms, Robin Williams was that. The man's IMDB profile sports over a hundred credits, and I can name only a handful of clunkers. Even in the worst of his pictures though, from Jumanji to RV, Patch Adams and August Freakin' Rush, Robin Williams brought genuine humor, and when necessary, dramatic gravitas. Like Christopher Walken, he never gave less than everything to a performance, and because of this, even the most generic pictures became memorable while he was on screen.
But this shit isn't about his bad pictures. To ruminate on the man's legacy of comedic genius in film would subvert the definition of the quickie, but to abstain would dishonor the man. Classics like Mrs. Doubtfire, Good Morning Vietnam, Moscow on the Hudson and Dead Poets Society, animated forays in Ferngully and of course Aladdin, through darker satire like Death to Smoochy and Man of the Year, dramatic turns in What Dreams May Come and Good Will Hunting, and even recent success in World's Greatest Dad will collectively stand the test of time, making Robin Williams' firebrand mixture of timing, delivery, and energy live forever.
Suffice it to say, the man could act, but was also genuinely funny outside the parameters of scripted comedy. Take a look at this opening monologue from his first SNL appearance in 1984. From the moment he steps on stage to the moment those lights go down, Robin Williams is hilarious. Humor, experience, and unabashed joy exude through his performance in a way that enthralls all who witness it. Very few performers, let alone those who are confined solely to performing with spoken words and body language, can express what Robin Williams made abundantly clear in three minutes of stage time.
Robin Williams was a comedy god, and his death is, to me, on par with the losses of Ronnie James Dio, Darrell Abbot, and Corey Haim in terms of unbridled and unequaled talent lost forever. And yet, the sad irony is not that he's gone, but how few people appreciate what is lost and can never be recovered. The same people who mourned Walker's death, mourned Cory Monteith and Gia Allemand, are giving equal accolades and remorse to someone who deserves so much more than that.
That said, will commemorations and posthumous honors make his death outshine his life? I keep reading articles on Cracked and Slate about how many (allegedly) funny people like Williams suffer from depression and suicidal thoughts. Going back to what I said about Kurt Cobain and his death, will the same prognosis apply to the career of Robin Williams? I don't think so. I'd go so far as to say the lasting message of Robin Williams' career is that suicide is not okay. The fact that a man who gave so much and yet had so much more to give killed himself makes one reflect on his own contributions, and realize that a life cut short at any time is really a life wasted. Was Kurt Cobain a talented musician? In his own right, yes. But did he make enough of an impact that his life exceeded his death? Apparently not. I don't believe the same fate will befall the legacy of Robin Williams; he has done too much and been an instrumental part of too many people's lives for his death to be anything but a sad closing chapter to a lifetime spent bringing people joy.
Paul Walker isn't coming back; I hate to be a dick (lie), but objectively, what are we missing? Robin Williams is never going to make another movie, never write another joke, never voice another cartoon, never make a single appearance from here until the world stops turning, and because of that, the road ahead is going to be so much harder.
From the mind and heart of a true fan of comedy, good night cochise.
See you all real soon, kids!
