Portrait by Nigel Parry
|
Tour de Frantic
By Nancy Griffin, November & December 2006
Robin Williams’s kidlike curiosity has led him on a very grownup quest for life’s meaning
|
Robin Williams plunks himself down for our "interview"—the term is used loosely—wearing striped pants, sneakers, and a T-shirt proclaiming himself a "human-animal hybrid." At first he's affable and soft-spoken, almost like a normal person, thoughtfully answering questions about new projects. Then, without warning, his brain shifts into free-association mode and he transforms into one screwball character after another—capping his performance with a special treat for AARP The Magazine readers: an ancient dude who burps loudly, making the sound "Aaaarp!"
"He bounces around a room like light off a mirror" is how Williams's close friend Billy Crystal describes his pal's trademark lunacy. "After all these years it's not gotten tired, and it's pretty wild to be around."
With a 30-year movie career that has included starring roles in Good Morning, Vietnam; Dead Poets Society; and Good Will Hunting (his Oscar-winning triumph), Williams is hotter than ever. He's showcased his exceptional range this year in the family comedy RV, the dark thriller The Night Listener, the political satire Man of the Year, the animated Happy Feet, and the kid-oriented Night at the Museum.
'Because I had my midlife crisis when I was about 30...when I hit 50, it was like "This is cool." '
"It's wonderful," says Williams of life at 55. He's achieved an enviable balance of work, family, and giving back as a public figure, while still carving out time for voracious reading and other personal interests. A dedicated father of three, Williams and his wife (and occasional producer), Marsha, live in San Francisco, where he indulges his passion for cycling. The chaos of his younger years—which included hard partying, cocaine abuse, and tabloid headlines about him falling in love with his child's nanny after his first marriage crumbled—is behind him: he's been married to that former nanny for 17 years now. They have two teenage children, Zelda and Cody, along with his son Zak, 23, from his first marriage.
During this interview Williams betrays no hint that in two weeks he will check himself into an Oregon rehab facility to treat a relapse of his alcoholism after 20 years of sobriety. There had been no foreshadowing tales of unprofessional behavior emanating from his movie sets, no drunk-driving arrests. But he had quietly slipped back into drinking after making back-to-back movies and decided on his own to enter a sobriety program. "He realized, 'I'm drinking again and I'm not supposed to be,' " says a close acquaintance. " 'And I have to deal with it.' Marsha and the kids fully support him in this."
Beloved figure that he is, Williams has countless fans rooting for his recovery. He is a unique force in American culture, transcending divisions by making fun of everyone without seeming to offend anyone. His standup shows are blistering commentaries on the touchiest areas of contemporary life, from politics to race, from sex to religion. He's an antiwar lefty (on Bush: "We have a president for whom English is a second language"), but he doesn't flinch from skewering himself ("Cocaine is God's way of telling you you're making too much money").
"Robin can be provocative and edgy and inflammatory in his comedy," says Shawn Levy, the director of Night at the Museum, "but he's a fundamentally huge-hearted person. Even at his most manic and out there, there is a core sweetness. That's why he has family appeal."
Williams will chatter nonstop to amuse you, but he says little about his charity work. He's made three trips to Afghanistan and two to Iraq to entertain the troops, regularly visits sick children through the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and founded Comic Relief—which has raised $50 million for the homeless—20 years ago with Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg. Williams is also on the board of the Christopher Reeve Foundation (CRF), which is devoted to spinal-cord-injury research. He and Reeve were roommates at Juilliard, where they became lifelong friends. Now Williams and his wife are in constant touch with the Reeves' 15-year-old son, Will.
"I remember a few years ago when Chris was speaking at a fundraiser," recalls CRF president Kathy Lewis, "and Chris went into a spasm, which happens, and he couldn't control it. It was embarrassing. Robin was in the audience, and suddenly he leaped onto the stage, grabbed hold of Chris's arms, and said, 'Look! It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superman! He's trying to fly!'
"Robin was able to make Chris comfortable, and the spasm passed. And that's the kind of friend Robin is."
Q: What does getting older feel like to you?
A: When I turned 50 and I got an AARP card in the mail, I went, "Hell! That's what I get? Thank you!"
Actually, it's been great. Hitting 50 was not a wall; it was like [eyes roll back blissfully]… Because I had my midlife crisis when I was about 30, so I got that over with. But when I hit 50, it was like "This is cool."
Q: How so?
A: It feels like the prime of your life, literally. Things are going great; you've come to the point where it's no longer a struggle. As Rodney Dangerfield said, "Why am I sweating? I own the club!" You're there, so you don't have to worry as much. And yet, the object is to keep working. Find interesting parts, and obviously it's skewed more for men than women to find character parts at my age. And, hey, supporting parts are just as interesting as the lead.
Q: Is that actually you singing "My Way" [as the voice of an animated penguin] in Happy Feet?
A: That's me. Yeah, we recorded "My Way" by the Gipsy Kings. I sang, and the other penguins came in behind me. It's pretty great, and the landscapes are amazing. The sad thing is, the landscapes are probably history now, given the fact that Antarctica is mostly melting.
Q: What is the movie about?
A: It's like March of the Penguins meets Riverdance. There's one young penguin named Mumble [voiced by Elijah Wood]. He can't sing, but he can tap-dance. He goes on a quest because all the fish are missing. Turns out they are being overfished by industrial fishing boats. Me and a bunch of Argentine Adélie penguins—we're smaller than emperors; we're like Chicano comics—help him on his quest.
There's a lot of music, a lot of big dance numbers. We'll sing at the drop of a feather. Because we are Latino penguins, we talk [smooth Antonio Banderas voice:] "like thees, because, as you see from Argentinean soccer, we are fierce, but very emotional. Although we are the leetle ones, we have the passion. I know the females—they know me."
Another character I play, the Reverend Lovelace, is kind of a Barry White penguin—with a six-pack ring around his neck that he treats as a talisman. [Deep, seductive voice:] "It allows me to have magic healing powers, especially with the females."
But it was fun. Good times.
Q: You segued from playing a penguin to playing Teddy Roosevelt in Night at the Museum.
A: Yes, he's a wax figure that comes to life. The great news is, I got to read about Roosevelt, and he was an extraordinarily gifted and courageous man. He was put into office by major industrialists who make Enron's leaders look like children, and they thought that as vice president he couldn't do any harm. Then President McKinley was assassinated, and as president, Roosevelt really broke apart the monopolies.
Q: Do you think that today a leader could buck the big corporations and prevail?
A: Yes, if you have a courageous individual, with luck and will. Today, people like that are targeted early on because they don't play the game. The Hill takes its toll. They come out of there worn down.
Q: I found a quote of yours: "Comedy is acting out optimism." Are you optimistic about our country?
A: Yes. There are still a lot of good people out there doing good things. And there exists the potential to turn things around, as people gain information and step outside the spin. It's a question of getting a system that will find someone and get him out in front of people and not worry about "Well, he's not that attractive" or "He doesn't have the cute factor down." But he's actually a very brave, intelligent man who will inspire us to do things that may not seem comfortable but may be necessary.
Q: Where do you think such a person might come from?
A: From someplace where you least expect it. I don't think anyone expected Teddy Roosevelt to do what he did. There may be a moderate Republican—maybe McCain will come back and regain the frontal lobe they took away from him when they ruined him, then said, "Come back to the party—we're just kidding." Because McCain was standing up against the military-industrial complex. He was the one that said, "You cannot allow torture. I have been the victim of torture, and we cannot condone it and still maintain our humanity."
Bush said, "You're either for us or against us." No, actually, we are all trying to make it through the same thing together. We're "us"—it's U.S.—red states and blue states.
Q: You play a "fake news" show host who runs for president in Barry Levinson's comedy Man of the Year.
A: It's not skewed to one party or the other; it's just basically saying that the system as it stands doesn't work. If you disagree, you are called unpatriotic. At one point my character makes a joke that if we didn't disagree, we'd still be English. Our country was founded by a bunch of very angry people throwing tea in the harbor, going [Cockney accent:] "F--- you and your tax! Here's your tea!" It was built on protest. Man of the Year is basically about a comic who runs for office because he's fed up with the system. Initially he talks very seriously about the issues, and no one listens. It's like the old Bob Crane joke: "How do you know when a politician is lying?" "When his mouth is moving." Eventually my character starts to go "Screw it; I'll use my tools. I'll start to be funny."
The movie is a satire, working off the idea that there's a computer glitch that elects him. [Conspiratorial whisper:] "Could it happen? A computer malfunction? No—not in Ohio!"
Q: Have you always felt that your brain works differently from other people's?
A: No, I thought my brain worked like everyone else's and sometimes was lazier. And then at a certain point I went "I've got to catch up!" [Neurologist and Awakenings author] Oliver Sacks thinks I have voluntary Tourette's, that it's just an excess of a neuro-stimulant and that I can turn it on. When it's working well it feels like an athlete when he is in the zone. All of a sudden it's like everything else slows down and you're just going…"Yeeaah."
Q: So you're observing it as it's happening?
A: Yeah, it's like a millisecond ahead or even a millionth of a second. It's just that oop! Because you are traveling at the speed of thought; you're just flying. But yet you still can connect it, when you are at the top of your game.
Q: Do you feel at the top of your game as much now as when you were younger?
A: Yeah, obviously as you get older there are times when you go [panicked voice:] "Oh, no—not now!" When it will slip.
Q: Like you can't remember someone's name?
A: Bigtime, once in a while: "I need more ginkgo biloba!" It's amazing that medical science can develop a drug to give you an erection but can't develop a drug to give you mental clarity.
Q: Do you do yoga?
A: No, I have friends who do it and love it. I ride my bike. For me, that's mobile meditation.
Q: You ride with your friend Lance Armstrong?
A: Oh, my God! He starts off going 25 miles an hour, he's on the phone, and I'm, like [panting and pedaling furiously:] "-kich-a, kich-a, kich-a—" [As Armstrong:] "Yo, homie—what's up?" He's flying. It's crazy.
Q: In San Francisco do you ride in the city?
A: The city is fairly bike-friendly. But the main thing for me is to go over the Golden Gate Bridge and head out to Marin. There's places you can go, in just 20 minutes you're, like, in incredible hills, with views for days—it's wonderful stuff.
Q: What are the kids and Marsha up to?
A: Cody is in Senegal right now, in a village with ten of his classmates, working and studying and helping the village. They are digging a well or something. It's a school project. Zelda is in London visiting friends. Zak is at home in San Francisco with his dog, Louis. Marsha just had her 50th birthday party.
Q: Did you throw it for her?
A: No, she had 39 women at a spa for a week—no men. They had a great time. By the end I think they were all, like [makes loony whistle]. You can spa out. Most spas, I last about three days, and then it's "Thanks, it's been great, time to keep going." So Marsha just hit 50, and she gets her AARP card!
Q: As a boomer, do you think our generation will redefine aging?
A: I don't think work defines us as much as it did our parents. For my father, work was everything. He had amazing hobbies, but even after he retired from the Ford Motor Company he worked again for a bank because that was still his modus operandi; that was the thing that kept him going. My mother was different, because she always had charities and tennis and other stuff. The boomers—I mean, work is incredible, but there's always been another level of something, other aspects of our lives. You can see in these new retirement communities, they are much more oriented toward outdoor activity—tennis, golf, basketball, gyms, and pools—all these different things.
Q: It will be interesting to see if boomers gravitate toward communal living arrangements.
A: They are already doing it on the right—there's that one community of heavily armed people somewhere in Arizona. [Laughs.] It's based around owning guns, and it has a shooting range. It's a "we're armed and proud of it" gated community. Smith & Wesson Village.
The other thing is that in the next five to ten years, if biological research continues, there will be an extension of life or at least an improvement in the quality of life.
Q: Although the full benefits of longevity technology might come too late for the boomers.
A: It could be. I imagine you are right. Because even with Chris [Reeve], he was hoping they would cure paralysis. [Pauses to think.] That's wonderful, just as we are fading, there will be amazing breakthroughs!
[Old guy, burps loudly:] "Aaaarp!"
[Doctor:] "What were his last words?"
[Old guy, rasps:] "Total cellular regeneration—when is it available?"
[Doctor:] "In an hour."
[Old guy:] "Oh, f---." [Expires.]
[Normal voice:] Yeah, I think that's why all these bioengineering companies, especially in San Francisco, are huge. That's our generation going "How shall we sustain?!"
Q: Exactly. "Us...die?"
A: Yeah, it's like those science-fiction novels where there's a wealthy guy saying [pompous rich guy:] "I will sustain myself—I will live on! Even if it's as a brain in a box."
[Secretary:] "Hello, Tim."
[Tim:] "Good morning, Susan. Would you open the box? I'm still here!"
[Secretary:] "I know you are, Tim."
[Tim:] "I'm 194!"
[Secretary:] "And you don't look a day over 200!"
[Normal voice:] Yeah, and it used to be when people retired, they went to warmer places. [Brooklyn accent:] "It's Miami for me! I want to be in a nice place, a warm place."
But as the climate changes, where are people going to go—where you won't get soaked, you won't get blown away, you won't get burned?
Q: After the attacks of 9/11 it seemed that just about everyone in Hollywood talked about buying ranches in New Zealand or Australia.
A: New Zealand is great, except it's still 1980 there. [Down under accent:] "If you want to go back and live the simple life, you can do it—just don't be looking for massive stimuli. And Australia is a long haul, if you're thinking it's a place you'll flee to. There's no ozone. F---ing great place to cook! Get a tan in an hour or so if you're a doer!"
Q: What are you looking forward to?
A: Still just working.
Q: Any significant "yets" in your life?
A: Yeah, travel. But first learn the languages, so you're not just like [loud American tourist:] "Oh, Margaret, what's thaaat?" Get to know more about this planet that's changing as we speak. With our generation I think a lot of people are continuing their education, not necessarily for work but to learn. Philosophy, theoretical science, history.…
Q: What would you like to study?
A: Languages: Spanish, Italian, Mandarin.
Q: But we know you speak Spanish!
A: ¡Un poco, si! I have to really learn to speak—not fake Spanish, not wrestling Spanish. And I'd take other courses, something useful and then one purely esoteric one, just for the mental exercise, especially history.
Q: Can you travel anonymously?
A: Fairly much so. If you are not afraid of looking slightly damaged, you can go anywhere. If I look like this [distorts face into a grimace; slobbers], people don't want to look at me.
Q: You don't really do that!
A: I do a version of that. Someone once described walking down the sidewalk in New York with Robert Redford, and no one was noticing. The guy said, "No one is bothering you." And Redford said, "Do you want to see Robert Redford?" Within two seconds people said, "Robert Redford!" He had just made a mental adjustment; he just turned it on. I can go anywhere. Some places people know me, but it's not intrusive. It's not like "Oh, my God—it's Brad!" People are sweet, except for drunks. Sometimes drunks can be mean. They will put you in a headlock and say "Kiss my wife." They can be scary.
Q: What was the last great thing that you read?
A: I haven't finished it yet; I'm reading this biography of Mao, a not very flattering portrait of old Chairman Mao, by a husband-and-wife team named—I can't remember their names. I'm having a senior moment. Aaaarp!
Q: You were so close to Chris and Dana Reeve. Do you miss them?
A: Yeah, bigtime.
Q: Talk about an inspiring guy.
A: Huge. And her, too. Both. All for people. It was that idea of take what you're given and go with it. He said, "Part of it is I want to walk—the other part is there's a whole group of people like me." He used to have a T-shirt that said "Find Another Hero."
Q: I suppose a comedian can be a hero. I talked with Jack Nicholson after 9/11, and he said he wanted to work exclusively on comedies for a while because the situation was so grim he felt people needed to laugh—he needed to laugh.
A: We did a show in Washington, D.C.—it was about two months after 9/11. And people said it was like we had broken a siege. With comedy you are allowed to laugh about the insanity. You realize how absurd it all is, the painful stuff and the wonderful stuff, too. For a brief moment everyone is connected, and you all go "Hey, we're human."
Nancy Griffin is West Coast editor of AARP The Magazine.
Find more celebrity interviews on our Entertainment channel
|
