Coffee Club Newsletter ©

Volume 18, No. 19 - March 28, 2008

 Any similarity to persons actually living or events actually happening is coincidental. 

TR: Good afternoon.  Are you Robin Williams? 

RW: Man, what a pleasure to see you.  What a question.  You’re a man after my own heart.  I just hope you’re for real.  Come in, man.  You look like you could use a sandwich and a cold beer.  And you can name your brand, as long as it’s Corona Light. 

TR: I can’t find a place to sit down. 

RW: Well sit on the floor if you must, as long as you sit.  You’ll just have to pardon my housekeeping for now. 

TR: No problem.  Did you have a party? 

RW: I don’t need a party to have the place looking like this.  It’s the artist in me.  Messiness keeps me tranquil - messiness and nature’s magic chemicals. 

TR: Like beer? 

RW: Yeah, like beer.  Weren’t you a sixties hippie?  That was the generation that was man, and do I ever miss it. 

TR: Your place looks kind of psychedelic. 

RW: Nothing around here is kind of.  It’s right there, right on, far out, or it’s not there. 

TR: Yes, I can see that, now that you mention it.  Is that a poster of Mork? 

RW: It’s a poster of me playing Mork.  Mork didn’t play himself.  I made him what he is. 

TR: Yes, yes, of course. 

RW: He was more famous than the Osmonds for a while.  More famous than the Captain and Tenille.  More famous than the Carpenters.  More famous than Michael.  And he would have been more famous than Elvis if the producers hadn’t decided to kill him.  I cried real tears the night they killed the show. 

TR: But you went on to make lots of movies. 

RW: Yeah, but what are movies? 

TR: Well, like Gone With The Wind…. 

RW: No, man.  Stop to think.  What are movies?  They’re TV shows shot on location with commercials at the beginning instead of in the middle.  You can’t even get up to go to the fridge to grab something.  I forever want to grab something so it’s annoying.  I watch DVDs instead.  Get my drift? 

TR: But you do like making movies. 

RW: It’s my bread job, man.  I don’t even own a daycare like many people think I do. 

TR: But you’re good with children. 

RW: In the movies my friend - in the movies. 

TR: But it seems real. 

RW: You’re talking about maybe two or three movies I made like that where I’m kind to children.  You haven’t seen Good Morning Vietnam, or Hook, or Deconstructing Harry, or Good Will Hunting, or One Hour Photo. 

TR: I can’t afford so many movies. 

RW: Do what I used to do when I was a boy in Scotland – I just snuck in through the back entrance.  Every theatre – like every mind - has a back entrance. 

TR: I heard you’re not really Scottish. 

RW: I wasn’t born there but I am Scottish.  Let’s not be too particular about the details.  After a while, it’s all a blur anyway. 

TR: Ok.  Do you regret not being able to do or accomplish something in your life? 

RW: Regrets are for the birds, but I didn’t like the fact they used to censor me so much.  I also have never quite gotten my imitation of Jonathan Winters just how I want it. 

TR: You’re a perfectionist. 

RW: No, I get a lump in my throat.  It’s like when you have to sing at your father’s funeral – you can’t do it. 

TR: Does he know? 

RW: My father? 

TR: No, Jonathan Winters. 

RW: Sure, and he keeps rubbing it in my face.  He can do me real well though. 

TR: Maybe you can do him doing you?  Or maybe you can do him doing you trying to do him. 

RW: I tried already and I just got confused halfway through. 

TR: Oh. 

RW: Have another beer – it’s on the house. 

TR: Thanks, I will.  You’re famous for improvising.  Does that come naturally? 

RW: Actually, unnaturally.  I only do it because I can’t remember my lines – I’ve never been able to – just like Brando, except he was too lazy to improvise. 

TR: But do you find it easy? 

RW: I say whatever pops into my head.  If it doesn’t work, we just keep shooting the scenes over and over until I say something that makes sense. 

TR: Can I print that? 

RW: Even if I say you can’t I know you will. 

TR: Yes. 

RW: The scummy tabloids are all alike. 

TR: Can we talk about your divorce, then? 

RW: No, no, no, no…that’s off limits. 

TR: But you’re opposed to censorship. 

RW: If we’re not discussing it, there’s nothing to censor. 

TR: If you’ll just comment on it, you can tell me exactly how to edit it. 

RW: Look, so far, everything I’ve said is something you wrote.  It’s out of my control – I simply don’t like it.  My lawyer would have my head on a platter. 

TR: That means you didn’t sign a pre-nuptial agreement.  This will cost you an arm and a leg, won’t it? 

RW: I’m hoping for a reconciliation.  Put in a good word for me won’t you, mate? 

TR: I’ll say you’re sorry. 

RW: Do it.  Do it.  Please.  You know, she told me it was maddening not knowing who she was living with; I was constantly doing so many impersonations. 

TR: Except Jonathan Winters. 

RW: Thank you – you’ve said it all.