Monday, August 11, 2014

"No Movie's Real"

Robin Williams is dead, apparently having committed suicide. A sensitive and gifted performer, I always thought his greatest strength was a sense of his vulnerability through his sadness. It's something that was in every performance, sometimes overwhelming the film, sometimes complementing it perfectly. He was in two Terry Gilliam movies I love, The Fisher King and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, but the performance of his I love most is the one he gave in Mark Romanek's 2002 film One Hour Photo. No other film, in my opinion, better showcased this innate sadness that it seemed to me Williams couldn't contain.

He's not even doing very much in this scene, it's not a big emotive scene, but so much comes through. As a performer, Williams was like a clear pane of glass to his soul.

His stand up comedy and comedic performances were often noted as being propelled by nervous energy. It always seemed like Williams was trying to outrun something. It was a race that required him to be sensitive, knowledgeable, intelligent, and coherent. We saw brilliance when we saw him succeed at this.

Twitter Sonnet #655

Hairless hat creatures dance for chequered flags.
Knowledge leaking through black fountains recursed.
Erroneous donkeys ate their name tags.
For his tail Curious was reimbursed.
A bag of weasels defaced Piggy's moon.
Sharknadoes can't end the eternal war.
Beelzebub's men besieged Brigadoon.
Innocent Hurricane beat the cell door.
Five beats ahead of the egg was air pure.
Now fashionable patterns were floors then.
A twisted cable in a gut's unsure.
A diary awaits the cocaine pen.
Tubes of salt hold some fry matter inside.
Sea-less crowns came with the black luckless tide.

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