I couldnt stand to watch Robin Williams, but I dont mean this in the sniffy sense of an asshole contrarian saying eh, he was not so special hours after a mans death; he WAS so special, thats the thing. His default manic-improv mode (Williamss every late-night interview seemed to build to him miming a giant penis) made me recoil for the very reasons made clear today: it seemed to mask - and badly, too - extreme, sustained despair. That despairs palliative flip side, a kind of twinkly-eyed post-rehab mawkishness, got him Oscars, but the two films in which I truly love Williams are One Hour Photo and Insomnia. Williamss preferred way of playing a villain was to underact, and so his psychos and killers allowed him to stay quiet and still for periods of time; every onscreen minute of Williams not on, not riffing, felt like a relief to me - and, I dare hope, to him too.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 07:08:49 +0000
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