R.I.P. Robin Williams (1951 - 2014)

I'm well aware that, being 17, I'm not part of the generation that was most attached to Robin Williams. The same generation that has spent the last day outpouring its love for the actor. But that doesn't mean I didn't feel sad over the news of his death; the death of someone who was genuine enough that he felt real despite me only knowing him from my TV screen.

I think the first Robin Williams' movie I ever saw was RV. I would spend odd weekends at my grandparents house and RV was part of small, seemingly well selected list of films that my grandfather would put on for me. Williams plays a dad who takes his family on a cross-country trip, not telling them the trip is really to the location of an important meeting which puts his job at risk. Looking back, this isn't the greatest movie ever, but it had the sort of warm heart to it that Williams brought to everything. There was an expectedly soppy moment at the movie's end, where Williams turns down the job and chooses his family instead; I imagine from most actors, even good comedy actors, a moment like this wouldn't feel remotely genuine, but from Williams it seems so real. His comedy persona: over-active, self-indulgent yet ultimately good natured kid turned adult, wasn't a put on. He could be as wacky as he wanted to be on screen - people believed it - because he really was that wacky.

It's that genuineness that most comedians lack. Most just want laughs; only a comedian as good as Williams would know that the laughs are much better when not ignoring the stuff that isn't funny. Sure, this did give a sentimentality to his films (the ending of Mrs Doubtfire, for example) that put a barrier between him and some adult viewers; but this was what allowed him to act out some truly genuine moments. The one that comes to mind is in Good Will Hunting, my favorite film of his, in which he plays Matt Damon's psychiatrist. Damon's character, uninterested in therapy, tries insulting William's character. He hits on the soft spot of his wife to the point where William's cracks, shouting at his patient, coming close to giving up on him. It's showing this vulnerability that makes his triumph in that movie, finally talking Will Hunting into facing his problems, that much better.

One thing that has surprised me about Williams' death is the response to him having depression. Upon hearing that he had allegedly killed himself I instantly prepared for the usual response to celebrity suicides: people questioning how someone who has all that could be depressed. Another national outcry of how money must be able to solve everybody's problems. The response to Williams' death has been different, in a good way; people talking about the struggle depression can be for anybody. If nothing else, his death will hopefully continue the ongoing awareness of the fact that depression doesn't just affect our tortured artists (or those people you know who are very outgoing about their problems) but can affect anyone, all the way to a man who spent the majority of his career making people laugh (or, conversely, any of those friends of yours who seem to have everything together).

But that's a bigger conversation, and one that will be going on for a long time more; for now my heart goes out to Williams family. A fantastic comedian and one we'll be talking about for a very long time.