Oh Captain, my Captain!

I first remember seeing Robin Williams in Dead Poets' Society and have loved him since.  O Captain, My Captain, is the Walt Whitman poem famously quoted in that movie. 

But in the poem the Captain is dead.

The tributes list his greatest movie roles in Good Will Hunting, Mrs. Doubtfire, Good Morning Vietnam but my favourites were the lesser known - One Hour Photo, Jack, Patch Adams, Awakenings and What Dreams May Come. I even named my son, Jack, after him. I actually thought I was unusual to claim Robin Williams as my favourite - not the bigger names like Tom Hanks or Robert de Niro or Jack Nicholson, but the short, funny zany guy who probably had more panned movies than hits. But from the reaction to yesterday's news, it seems everybody loved him. If only he knew. 

 I suspect people in the spotlight struggle to balance what they share and what they keep to themselves. Obviously in hindsight Mr. Williams kept his demons to himself. I mean, he shared his struggles - he was open about his addictions and rehab efforts, but no one must have known how dark it was for him to make the choice he ultimately did. But I always felt he was sincere, generous of his talent, his humour, his money, his position. He stepped up and helped out, with the veterans overseas, with the homeless at home. I loved to watch him on talk shows because it amused me that the camera men can't keep up - he seemed to put all of his energy, all of himself into any moment where he knew people were watching.

Everyone is commenting on how funny Robin Williams was, and I have to agree, he was hilarious, witty and crude and shocking. But have you seen some of his serious roles? He must have had a phenomenal understanding of human emotion to tone down his crazy to play a heartbroken father or a twelve year old boy or a fragile lonely man.  Maybe he let us see more than it seemed?

The world is a less funny place today.

N