The Rude Pundit - On Robin Williams; On Depression
1. You who know Robin Williams only from Mrs. Doubtfire and Aladdin onward will never understand how liberating and cathartic his early, unhinged stand-up comedy was, how political and anarchic he could be (and still was, even in his recent stand-up), like Jonathan Winters and Richard Pryor had a baby that dropped acid.
One of the Rude Pundit's favorite memories from his teenage years is sitting at home and watching An Evening with Robin Williams on HBO with his buddy-to-this-day, Tony. He annoyed Tony for weeks after quoting lines from it. Hell, everyone was quoting lines from it or from his movies or "Nano-nano"-ing everyone with spread-fingers. Williams was that ubiquitous, that universal, that beloved, in a way that few, if any, performers are now.
2. The Rude Pundit just watched The Fisher King, his favorite Williams film performance, his most successful merging of chaotic humor and pathos into something genuinely Chaplinesque. It's terrific, weird, and emotional. Other great roles no one will talk about: The Best of Times, as a repressed husband and son-in-law in a working class town; Seize the Day, an adaptation of Saul Bellow's novella, probably his best, least-known dramatic work; and, post-2000, in his faded superstar/indy era, One Hour Photo and World's Greatest Dad, both films where he was consciously wrecking his cuddly, kid-friendly image.
2a. The Rude Pundit never got to see him do stand-up live, but he did see Williams on stage in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo on Broadway, giving a fully-embodied performance as the title character, first alive, then dead, wandering around a post-"liberation" Iraq, commenting on the ludicrous world he saw around him. He was quite, quite moving and, as ever, quite, quite funny.
3. Everyone suffers depression differently. Williams had wrestled with it as privately as possible, although he did not hide his alcohol and drug abuse, all of which made it into his comedy. But as someone who has, fortunately, through the power of scrips, conquered a somewhat milder case of depression, the Rude Pundit has learned that something he felt was felt by others who have or are going through it: You sense that a darkness has opened and the floor is tilting you toward that darkness, and you can feel yourself physically sliding into it. You want to stop. You want to climb out. But you can't. It's an awful, helpless feeling. You have to fall in and stay until the floor tilts you back into the light.
The Rude Pundit believes he leveled the floor. He doesn't know what would have happened if he hadn't been able to.
4. This one hurts.
http://rudepundit.blogspot.com/2014/08/on-robin-williams-on-depression.html
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Read this earlier today. 
Even the sainted Carlin, and that is saying something.
He will be very much missed. 
I did not own (somewhat self-righteously) a TV. However, I would go over to a friend's house ever Monday night (I believe) to watch Mork & Mindy, and partake of Robin Williams' manic, exploding, joyous comedy. He was clearly at the beginning of a huge career.
I'm still reeling from the death of James Garner. Way too many good ones gone this year.
I'm posting it on my own thread. http://www.democraticunderground.com/10025374157
Thank you for posting it, meegbear, and KUDOS as usual to the Rude Pundit for a remarkable and towering personal essay.
It starts with describing Robin Williams as "like Jonathan Winters and Richard Pryor had a baby that dropped acid" and if that's not enough it goes WAY deep. It helps those of us who may not be struggling with this particular demon (or at this particular time) understand a wee bit of the effect depression has on its sufferers. It illuminates our darkness - as in our being in the dark about the impact of depression on the human psyche. It really does need to be as intimately understood as possible.
Does anybody remember "Stranger in a Strange Land" by Robert Heinlein? The protagonist was a man who returned to Earth after being raised elsewhere by extraterrestrials. We read it in Catholic school in this one rather free-wheeling elective class that explored alternative and speculative literature. The hero becomes a sort of Jesus figure. One of the notable things he does is to introduce a new concept into the lexicon - the verb "grok" (infinitive form "to grok"
. To grok something is, figuratively-speaking, to know or understand or grasp or "get" or internalize a concept or idea SO completely that it's as though you had eaten it. And it becomes part of your deepest self-understanding.
We need to grok the crisis of depression. Maybe this is part of Robin Williams' legacy. Just one more thing to love him for.
Tight hugs to you too, calimary.
Isn't it maybe the loveliest legacy of all - to move people to send each other hugs, even when they've never met! The details of his last hours are just so unbelievably sad and painful to try to wrap one's brain around. Lots of hugs passed around are DEEPLY appreciated.
Well, it's time for my therapy appointment. How fitting.
