SummaryA funny, intimate and heartbreaking portrait of one of the world’s most beloved and inventive comedians, Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind is told largely through Williams’ own words, and celebrates what he brought to comedy and to the culture at large, from the wild days of late-1970s L.A. to his death in 2014. [HBO]
SummaryA funny, intimate and heartbreaking portrait of one of the world’s most beloved and inventive comedians, Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind is told largely through Williams’ own words, and celebrates what he brought to comedy and to the culture at large, from the wild days of late-1970s L.A. to his death in 2014. [HBO]
Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind captures that special quality that Williams had, the extra quality that went beyond the laughs, that communicated his whole being.
It’s a film that, early on, feels like a standard catch-a-rising-star celebrity hagiography, but as the story continues — and the impressive line-up of interviewees get deeper into their memories of Williams — the film achieves a balance between celebration and unfiltered recollection.
Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind is an absolutely fascinating documentary that shows the life, career, and psyche of one of the funniest comedians who ever lived.
Zenovich, the director of “Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired,” offers just what you want from a documentary like this one: She brings us closer to events that have been covered many times, deepening — or overturning — what we think we know about them.
As a general survey of Williams’s life, as a collection of precious backstage outtakes, and as a nostalgic trip back into his comedy stylings, Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind does the trick. It’s a sad, but satisfying, visit with a special man.
Even those with only passing knowledge of Williams’ challenges—with drugs, alcohol, and self-esteem—aren’t likely to find any new revelations about the comic genius.
instead of focusing on the comedian’s complexities, Come Into My Mind focuses on his heartbreak. Perhaps Zenovich wanted to offer closure to fans still shocked by Williams’ final choice. But any artist is far more than their struggles. A proper remembrance would have understood that.
A rudimentary bio-doc that isn't very insightful, but which features excellent archival material
Directed by Marina Zenovich, Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind is a rudimentary bio-doc that fails to live up to its subtitle. It asks questions about Williams, gives him a platform, marvels at his on-stage energy, but never manages to elucidate much in the way of psychological insight. Perhaps a little too respectful of her subject, Zenovich avoids hagiography, but so too does she gloss over some of the darker aspects, although it's certainly laudable that she refuses to allow the manner of his death become the defining moment of his life. What the film does have going for it, however, is the archival footage, which shows Williams at the height of his powers. And, ultimately, the quality of this footage offsets the film's failure to offer a deep dive into his thought-processes.
Featuring interviews with people such as Billy Crystal, Steve Martin, Whoopi Goldberg, and Pam Dawber, the film includes clips from Williams's 1986 performance at the Met Opera House; the outtakes from his improvisations explaining the uses of a stick during a 1991 appearance on Sesame Street; and his improvised "acceptance speech" at the 2003 Critics Choice Awards, where he was nominated for Best Actor alongside Jack Nicholson and Daniel Day-Lewis, and the result was a draw between Nicholson and Day-Lewis ("it's been a wonderful evening for me, to walk away with nothing; coming here with no expectations, leaving here with no expectations. It's pretty much been a Buddhist evening for me").
From a biographical perspective, the film details such events as his 1973 scholarship to Juilliard, where he and Christopher Reeve were the only students selected by John Houseman to join the Advanced Program; how the death of John Belushi led to Williams getting clean; his celebrated appearance alongside Steve Martin in Mike Nichols's 1988 production of Waiting for Godot at the Lincoln Centre; checking himself into rehab in 2014 to treat his remerging alcoholism; his diagnosis with early stage Parkinson's; and ultimately, his suicide.
Also touched on is that his father was a very stern man, and it was when a young Williams saw him laugh at Jonathan Winters, that he first began to consider a career in comedy. Also interesting is how he changed the manner in which sitcoms were shot. When he started on Mork & Mindy in 1978, all American sitcoms were shot with a three-camera set-up (one for the wide shot, the others for close-ups). However, due to his unpredictability, he would rarely stick to his marks, making it impossible for close-ups, as the operators never knew where he was going to go. And so, the show's executive producer Garry Marshall introduced a fourth camera, whose sole purview was to follow Williams.
The use of audio interviews with Williams, which act as narration, see him more contemplative; "I don't tell jokes, I use characters as a vehicle for me. I seldom just talk as myself." This is, of course, a key admission, and is one of the main themes of the film – the private man hiding behind the public entertainer. However, the film fails to explore this dissonance; it's touched on a few times, but it's never examined in any detail. Indeed, for a film which literally invites the audience into the subject's mind, there's very little of any psychological worth.
Another problem is Zenovich's unwillingness to depict some of the darker aspects of his life. Lip-service is given to some of it, but nothing more (Elayne Boosler talks about being his girlfriend whilst giving her blessing for him to be with other women; Billy Crystal explains that he was addicted to audience reaction; Steve Martin discusses how difficult he found sobriety). However, apart from these brief moments, Zenovich never examines any of the issues thrown up. And as much as they are glossed over, there's nothing at all on Dawber's claim that Williams fondled her and exposed himself to her on the set of Mork & Mindy, even if only to reiterate that she was never offended or threatened.
The film's structure is also a little unusual, focusing on his rise in the 70s and 80s and the last few years of his life, without spending a huge amount of time looking at the intervening years. Because of this, when his 2014 suicide comes, it feels very abrupt.
The argument could be made that Williams was notoriously difficult to know even in real life, hence we shouldn't expect a documentary to lay him bare, but the fact is that Zenovich doesn't really try. And I can't help but think that presenting some of the darker times would have been a more truthful approach; it wouldn't have tarnished his legacy, but it would have made for a deeper film. In the end, Williams was consumed by his demons, but Come Inside My Mind sidelines those same demons as much as possible, hoping, perhaps, that we remember the laughter, without dwelling on the sadness.