Something is worse in the world today than it was yesterday. One more wrinkle on the face of this old planet and one less reason to laugh. There aren’t many of these left. We all had someone to look up to in the big screen when we were children, and few were so privileged to look up to Dear Captain, Peter Pan, Parry and Sean McGuire and – laugh. Somehow, Robin Williams was always a code for everything that is good in life, everything nice. Robin Williams was a code for flying, code for wishing everything all right, code for dreaming, code for imagination and poetry. Code for something long forgotten in this electronic and senseless world. He was roommate in Julliard with Christopher Reeve, the man who taught us how to fly, the unparalleled “Superman” of the screen and (in Robin’s own words) one of the finest actors he ever knew. Reeve was unfortunately limited only to that big performance but he stayed in our collective memory, but Mr. Williams was something else. He was happy thought. He was hope that there is something good in the world. When we were children, when we grew up.
Saddest news of the summer is departure of Robin Williams. Captain has left, Peter has flown to his Neverland and somewhere up there he’s having a laugh. He made us all laugh so many times but this time he served us the greatest joke of all. He committed suicide, he decided when is his time to die and however we look at it we are shocked, surprised – in disbelief. He made us laugh so many times that none of us ever suspected that somewhere under that masque of laughter there is depressed, tormented man who has forgotten how it is to fly, to dream, to have hope for something more, something worth living for. Joke is on us now. Greatest joke of all. The last trick of a great comedian. He has left the stage on his own terms. I don’t won’t to moralize, don’t want to write here about the ethics of the act… I just want to thank him for all wonderful moments we had together. Mr. Williams you will always be part of my childhood. My memories will be connected to dreams you allowed me to dream alongside you in your magnificent performances. In those dreams, that I sometimes dream even when I’m awake, you will never be forgotten.
After I stopped being a kid (or at least everybody told that it’s time to stop) I discovered Robin’s stand-up performances. At that point I stopped addressing him as Robin Williams. At that point we’ve become pals, friends although we’ve never actually met. My favorite performance was Metropolitan stand-up from 1986. :
In his stand-up DVD’s Robin criticized Bush’s politics, he became sometimes more of an activist and less comedian and that was too fine by me. Sometimes, you have to criticize so that you can later smile. From this sad perspective title of his last DVD is almost prophetic: “Weapons of Self-Destruction”. That tour was later part on an HBO special:
Great show of a great comedian is ended. We, as the audience, are shocked; still waiting for “the Prestige” some miraculous come-back or denial of the news that will convince us that all this was just a joke, just some bizzare twist of a master comedian. Self-destruction is complete. Dreams, however, are still here. Quote from comicbook.com blog states: “In 2005, Williams dedicated his Cecil B. Demille Award at the Golden Globes to Reeve. Williams said, “Miss you. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.” Some friendships last for life. Even though Robin left us here in awe, ours will too.
I will just repeat his own words: “May flights of angels sing thee to rest”. You two flyboys are together now. Thank you Mr. Williams. Say hello to Christopher too. Like the poster above says “the end is just beginning” and if I learned anything from you my dear friends, then I’m positive that some dreams will never end. Because “it’s a bird, it’s a plane…” is not enough anymore. Superman and Peter Pan are flying together now, roommates once again. Dreams and wishes. And, trust me… That flight will never end.