I thought it had only been one month since my last post. Well, the great thing about not having any readers is that there’s nobody to disappoint.
Today, Robin Williams reportedly committed suicide. He was 63.
One of the most beloved actors of this generation, he’ll likely be remembered as a brilliant actor and a comedic genius.
It was only now that I realized how important Williams was to my childhood. Thinking back to all the movies I remember watching as a kid (say, high school and before), many of them were Robin Williams classics. Some will endure as favourites, while others were critical and commercial failures. Nonetheless, I remember them fondly.
Hook, Jumanji, Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Dead Poets Society, Good Will Hunting and Bicentennial Man are movies that had an impact on me.
Scrolling through the Internet, messages have been pouring in about how sad everyone is about Williams’ passing and how great he was in that film. It’s easy to forget he was a guy suffering from depression who worked as an actor for a living.
Famous people like actors or professional athletes act differently partly because of their wealth and the need to keep up appearances to the media and public, but when death or a brush with death occurs, suddenly they’re just another person. A person who got into an accident, or a person who suffered from mental illness, or someone who had a drug or alcohol problem.
It’s easy to idolize or shit on celebrities. Everyone wonders what it would be like to be famous and rich, but I wonder how many people think about what it’s like to be called horrible things on Twitter, or to be deified by mindless lunatics who don’t consider you a normal human and therefore won’t treat you as such when they meet you.
So what’s my point in all this? I don’t know.
I think I’ll go watch a movie now.