Robin

Dave Itzkoff’s biography of Robin Williams is both a madcap walk down memory lane and a painful reminder of his valleys and self-inflicted death. 

For a generation, the first encounter with Robin Williams was when he guest starred on an improbable episode of “Happy Days,” as the alien Mork from Ork battling the Fonz. 

What was intended as a one-shot episode became a memorable event for many viewers and skyrocketed Williams to fame as the star of “Mork & Mindy.”

From a top-rated first season and superstardom, “Mork & Mindy” tanked in subsequent seasons – mostly thanks to network brass meddling with the series premise, then Williams made years of questionable movie choices such as “Popeye,” “Survivors,” “Moscow on the Hudson,” etc. Williams was mostly fine in these roles but they weren’t best suited to his comic style.

The movie that showcased his prodigious talents came in the late 1980s with “Good Morning, Vietnam,” then “Dead Poets Society,” “Awakenings,” “The Fisher King,” “Aladdin,” “Good Will Hunting,” “Jumanji,” “Mrs. Doubtfire,” and others that generated star-powered box office and garnered Williams a series of four Oscar nominations and one win.

Then came a series of almost mawkish movies – “Patch Adams,” “Bicentennial Man,” “Jakob the Liar,” etc., followed by movies that cast him as a bad guy – “Insomnia,” “One Hour Photo,” etc. 

More TV with the one-season “The Crazy Ones,” a Theodore Roosevelt wax figure in the “Night in the Museum” films, then he seemed to disappear, then he was gone …

Dave Itzkoff covers Williams’ life from the cradle to cremation and beyond. 

In “Robin,” Itzkoff is mostly sympathetic to Williams but he pulls no punches. He finds hard-hitting reviews, friends who share unflattering incidents with drug abuse, infidelities, fears, insecurities and how Williams’ boundless energy could irritate people.

There’s a touch of the tabloid here with these foibles and marital and family schisms. 

But Itzkoff also captures the magic of Williams. That infectious sense of fun, that genius talent, that indomitable spirit.

That spark.

The spark that was like magic to viewers who saw him onstage doing standup or in his best movies.

Or the “Happy Days” episode that had people asking that night and the next day and beyond, “Who is that guy?”

The public just wanted a name. But Itzkoff’s “Robin” reveals that even people closest to Williams often asked the same question.

As open as Williams could be, he was also aloof. As if he was withholding part of himself from even the people he loved.

“Robin” may be the closest any book can come to explaining just who Robin Williams was.