Remembering Robin Williams on the 10th anniversary of his passing

I remember, as a kid, I would sit with my Mum and Grandma just about every evening after school, the three of us laughing around the TV set watching a dork called Mork from the planet Ork in Happy Days and Mork & Mindy.

Robin Williams’ debut on the world stage was from out of this world. His celebrity would remain so for much of his high-vis career.

Williams’ delivery of comedy, be it slapstick or that of a deeper, cerebral kind, appealed to folks of all generations, cultures and creeds, and it seemed nobody ever had a bad word to say about the man.

Comedy wasn’t Robin’s only forte, for he was a really smart guy, too, who knew how to take established ideology and traditional constructs and turn them on their heads without offending too many people too much of the time.

Williams’ death on August 11th, 2014 – in an apparent act of suicide – shocked not only the celebrity world, but legions of comedy fans and film buffs.

That his own life was plagued with tragic circumstances, from drug abuse in the early 1980s to alcoholism in the late noughties, to depression just prior to his passing, only highlights how strong and brilliant he was at giving the rest of us a good time. He was genius, generous, humble and charming as all hell.

Rest in peace, Robin Williams. No-one made us laugh to the point of tears, and cry to the point of joy, like you did.

Antonino Tati

01. His sense of humour was out of this world.

From his small screen debut in Mork & Mindy, to gracing the big screen as everything from a wacky doctor (Patch Adams) to a bionic genius (Bicentennial Man) to an exaggerated version of himself (Junket Whore), Robin took the art of comedy and laced it most cunningly into every other genre there was.

02. He taught a generation of slackers to seize the day.

In Dead Poets Society he was the teacher who insisted that his students look at the world from varied perspectives; in Good Will Hunting he was the unconventional therapist who challenged his patients’ weakest defences. Basically, he regularly sent the message out that you’ve gotta grab life by the balls before it whacks you in the head with ’em.

03. He took gender politics to a whole new level.

Whether he was taking the piss out of gay stereotypes in The Birdcage or mending the ruptures of the not-so-nuclear family in Mrs Doubtfire, Robin’s performances as a drag artist were always tasteful enough for even the staunchest of bigots to appreciate and learn from. Even when he was a mere mincing cameo in a film like To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar, he managed to steal the show.

04. He cheered us up even amid tragic scenarios like war.

As a DJ on the Armed Forces Radio Services in Good Morning Vietnam, Robin’s character shook things up with his “irreverent tendencies” – all in the name of cheering up troops being faced with challenging situations. Then, as a radio DJ in The Night Listener, he dropped everything to assist and cheer up callers going through difficult times. This generosity with his humour was not only for celluloid, but a fixture in his social and greeting style.

05. He brought amazing characters to life.

Whether simulating real-life heroes (Teddy Roosevelt in Night At The Museum) or go-get-’em penguins (voicing both Ramón and Lovelace in Happy Feet), Robin was the arch-diocese of bringing inanimate figures to full, vibrant life.

06. He was the consummate all-rounder.

Humanitarian. Entertainer. Family Man. Charmer. Challenger. And All-round Good Guy.