Robin Williams’ passing seems to have moved people more than most deaths reported in the news, and I am no different. And I’ve spent all day trying to put my finger on why. I don’t often become upset at the deaths of famous people. I don’t tend to form attachments to those in the spotlight and have never subscribed to the cult-like following of celebrities as is so common today.
I’ve a friend who is very much in touch with breaking news – chiefly, I think, because he is on his smartphone so much. It was a rare lie in for me this morning. Often I like to wake up around 6am, whether a work day or on holiday. But as I’m back at my family home I slept in. I received a text at 7.43am, and it was no surprise to see it was from him. All it said was ‘Holy *something*. Robin Williams…’
He has broken numerous celebrity deaths to me over the years, in similar fashion to this, and so I knew exactly what this meant. My heart sank. I’d only been awake for a matter of seconds and then read this. I’ve felt huge heartache and sadness all day. This has never happened before after the death of a famous person. Why for Robin Williams?
As children, we have familiar faces with which we grow up. Our parents, extended family, family friends, teachers. Even as adults, these faces are so familiar we can picture them, probably fairly accurately, in our mind’s eye. We also have faces familiar from television and film. Like many others who grew up in the 90s, Robin Williams was firmly one of those familiar faces. A face we saw in many guises, but remained unmistakable. I don’t think any other actor has appeared in so many family-film favourites from this era. The list feels endless, but thanks to hard-repeat on our living room VCR, I knew most lines to Hook, Aladdin (OK, voice rather than face) Mrs. Doubtfire, Flubber, Fern Gully, Jumanji and Jack. He felt a member of the family, at times. He was in our home so often. His humour has already been described so much better than I ever could, so I won’t begin to. His infectious smile, warm and caring demeanour and seemingly endless range of expressions made his face feel as familiar people I saw everyday. To know he is gone, and in such a tragic way, feels like a closing of a chapter of childhood. To think that the face we knew so well, invariably beaming with laughter, was filled with anguish and pain in its final moments, is too much to bear. You want to banish it from your mind as soon as it appears.
Robin Williams’ talents then continued to enrich my teenage years, with Good Will Hunting standing tall among many masterpieces. Although he wasn’t playing comedy, Williams’ presence on screen in this film emitted a wave of warmth, depth, and humility that felt so tangible one could reach out and touch it. Come to think of it, like in many of his films. I would bet that for many who had grown up watching Williams as a child, the dominant emotion at seeing him play Sean, was trust.
Robin Williams could deliver a line like no other and could perform in children’s films like no other, and this is what made him feel like a crucial part of my childhood. He could emit a sincerity through some of his more serious moments on film, that I, like many others I feel, believed to be his true self, or at least hoped. And this is truly saying something: for all his comedy, his zany, quick-fire, scattergun humour, it is his sincerity which will live long in the memory. His low emotional voice. His warm, understanding tones. Whether this be through hang-dog Daniel Hilliard, the compassionate Sean Maguire, or the changed father of Peter Banning. If in some dystopian future, we never get the opportunity to hear his voice again, his sinking, Midwestern drawl will be played out in my head just as vividly as anything else.
Robin Williams was a man who spread laughter and warmth in equal measure, and he was at his most prolific, and at his peak, when I was growing up. I feel incredibly lucky.
Practical P4C 
Well said, Tom.
Whenever I think of Robin Williams, I think of Mork and Mindy – a show I used to watch when I was really small, after nursery school at lunch times. I didn’t get most of the humour, and really believed he was an alien who lived *on* a boulder in Colorado.
Every movie I’ve seen Robin Williams in since has taken me back to “ah that’s the nice alien from my childhood…” And any time I hear mention of Boulder, Colorado I think of him.
I know people who don’t understand why anyone would mourn a celebrity but I suppose even growing up in the same era, people are exposed, and respond to, different aspects of culture: different movies, different TV shows etc. I think Robin Williams just played so many amazing roles in so many massive movies, more of us weren’t just aware of him, but watched his movies over and over and over.