Jennifer Lynn Grabarczyk and I had the chance to see Mr. Williams at the Showbox a couple weeks back. The show was entitled "Working on material," and it was the first of 3 shows, but I was still surprised by ungreat his material was. Mostly just such obvious stuff. What if you cross a shitzu with a bulldog? People talking on hands-free cell phones look like they're talking to themselves. Dick Chaney consulting with the devil.
But his presence more than made up for it. A strange, deep kindness that feels almost childlike. His humor felt most gripping when it wandered into personal territory. His time in rehab and alcoholism in general. A side comment about his therapist asking him why he does comedy at all. Sadness that his movies haven't done well lately. And despite his less-than-great material, when he got into his rhythm, his charisma sucked you in.
I was also taken far outside my comfort zone by a lot of his explicitly sexual material. As I said the other day, Jen and I kept glancing at each other to make sure the other person was laughing. I guess as I look back, some of it crosses this line into this space that feels degrading. Not that comedians aren't allowed to go there. Just this weight of sadness. Like Robin Williams was trying to cover up some glory, in him or us. Shaming some part of himself. Some part of us. I want comedians as prophets, and I want prophets to speak to our sexuality, in ways that are disruptive. But I need hopeful and kind as well.
His overall humility and gentleness were fun. He tried to be harsh with audience members. It's comedy culture. But it felt half-hearted and timid compared to so many of his peers.
Dave Hunt commented the other day that Robin Williams is known as shy off stage. I certainly wouldn't know, but it fits what I felt of him that night. It felt like an honor to step into his world for a little while.
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