BWW Blog: O Captain! My Captain!

Performing live comedy is one of the hardest theatrical undertakings. I was terrified to try it until college, and even now, before shows, I'm still filled with a potent kind of stage fright that I never experienced during plays and musicals. Any time I watch a masterful comedian take command of their audience, I feel as though I'm in the presence of some sort of higher being, a person with a divine gift and a golden tongue.

So, when I first watched Robin Williams's 2002 special, Robin Williams: Live on Broadway, I was electrified. I had never seen such an energetic performance-so frenetic and precise, like a targeted missile. Every time it seemed like the roller coaster could not climb any more, it did, and the house was brought down with a new round of laughter. I couldn't help myself but fall under the same charm, spellbound, hypnotized, as if gravity had doubled and I could never move from that very spot.

Ever since that moment, Robin Williams has been my go-to for whenever I'm having a bad day. The instant I put his stand-up on, I know that I'm about to be transported away from whatever mood I may be in into a state of pure joy. In quarantine, I turned to the lighthearted humor of Mork and Mindy as a way to keep my mind off of the state of the world. When I first joined my college's improv comedy group, I looked to his work for guidance and confidence; just seeing his energy and enthusiasm upon the stage convinced me that I could make people smile for an hour.

What I so respect about his work was that he unapologetically played his audiences' emotions like a fiddle. My favorite pieces of art are those that can take you from laughing to crying in an instant-works like Fleabag, After Life, and Cabaret. Robin Williams was a master of walking this tightrope. He had the uncanny ability to pinpoint the profundity in every moment without making it heady, infusing his comedy with tremendous heart and his drama with puckish spirit.

This skill was never more on display than the ending of his special An Evening With Robin Williams, a heartfelt moment in which he plays the character of a humble newspaper seller meeting Robin Williams on the street-a bit that, had it been done by a second-rate comedian, would play with tremendous self-importance. Instead, he threads the needle ever-so-delicately, making earnest observations on fame and impending fatherhood. In the world of stand-up comedy, a world of posturing and mythology and arrogance, he exposes his heart to the world and, unafraid, shows who he truly is-a man standing on a precipice, scared, defiant, and hopeful.

Robin Williams was a performer who did what very little could ever dream of doing. He had no boundaries, flitting between genres and blurring the lines of what could be without hesitation. As a writer and performer, I've often found myself torn between the worlds of humor and drama, often confused about which path to take. To me, Robin Williams is proof that you don't have to choose. More than that, he represents the duality of the human experience-there can never be comedy without tragedy, nor tragedy without comedy. No given moment in anybody's life will ever be so purely given over to one single emotion without room for any others.

Although my work is just beginning, it is already indebted to him. And so, I say, O Captain! my Captain! Thank you.