
Every comedian who accused Robin Williams of stealing jokes: “A notorious thief”
It says something about the impact Robin Williams made on those of us for whom he had been a larger-than-life ever-present over decades on our TV and cinema screens that, rather like some major world events, I can remember exactly where I was when I heard that he had died back in 2014.
Sitting in a riverside bar in Hoboken, New York, that afternoon on August 11th, I stared down at my phone to read the desperately sad details and then looked over toward Manhattan, where 40 years earlier, before he became famous, Williams had studied theatre alongside future Superman Christopher Reeve at the Juilliard school near Central Park. The news of his death was the kind that reverberates around the world because it comes from nowhere, but also because of Williams’ outwardly energetic personality and sheer exuberance.
The fact that he had died by suicide made it all the more shocking and somehow unfair. A larger-than-life example of there often being darker sides to the funniest people we know, Williams expressed that dichotomy through his dramatic work on the big screen, to award-winning effect. But he was always so upbeat, so dedicated to making people laugh, that selfishly it almost seemed like a betrayal that he would take that route, that he wasn’t as perma-happy as on TV in real life, and that he couldn’t get the help he needed.
Much like many of his movie performances, which were often incredibly dark, were indicators that Williams was all too in touch with inner demons, he was also known as a master stand-up comic, often an outlet for gifted if troubled stars, starting his career off in the clubs of San Francisco before graduating to TV specials and sold-out tours around America. Known for a frenetic pace, a quickfire repertoire of voices and impressions and for working hard enough to sweat through his outlandish outfits, Williams won several Grammys for his comedy albums.
But how much of that early material was really his to use? In the years after his death, several sources have either begun to question it or openly stated that the Chicago-born legend stole their jokes outright, with his manager simply paying aggrieved comics off to cover any complaints (and to avoid any possible lawsuits).

The comedian and The Last Boy Scout star Damon Wayans, for example, was explicit about the subject last year in an interview with former NFL athlete Shannon Sharpe, stating, “Robin Williams was a notorious thief. I ain’t lying. His manager used to walk around with his checkbook, and Robin would come off stage and a comedian would be like, ‘Hey, he just took me…’ and he would just write him a check for $75. Cause he knew Robin was all stream of consciousness, and he would steal material. It was known. Comedians would go, ‘I’m not going on cause Robin is here.’”
Backing the tales of that kind of behaviour up were people like the voiceover actor Joey Camen, who was a performer at the Comedy Store for some 25 years, including venues in Las Vegas and New York, where he would cross paths with Williams.
He recalled: “I stayed away from the guy. He used to steal material. He stole my material. He stole one of my bits and did it on the Mork & Mindy pilot. And I got really pissed. And he gave me a cheque for $300 and told me, ‘Don’t cash it til Tuesday’.”
Adding, “I was really fucking angry at the guy. He stole from a lot of people, but the thing was, he only stole from people that he could get it away from. You didn’t see him stealing from George Carlin”.
Williams’ stand-up routines, no matter how popular, were always something of an acquired taste. His propensity to switch personas every millisecond wasn’t always appreciated (see the Family Guy reference: “Hey look it’s Robin Williams, blah blah blah, black preacher voice, blah blah blah gay Elmer Fudd”) and his later shows like 2002’s Live on Broadway were panned by critics who described his material as weak.
It should be stated, however, that Williams’ talent was evidently undeniable, from his fantastic performances in superb movies like Good Will Hunting, Dead Poets Society and One Hour Photo to his numerous, and frequently hilarious, appearances on US chat shows, where his jokes were quite obviously improvised, spontaneous and could not have been stolen.
Other names on the comedy scene didn’t begrudge Williams pinching the odd line or two, seeing it as part of the game. The late comedian and actor Richard Lewis was also doing the clubs and making TV appearances in the late 1970s, around the time Williams was finding fame for shows like Mork and Mindy, and recalled: “Some comics hated him for it (stealing jokes). But I wasn’t one of them.”
When Williams died, he had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and was suffering from severe depression. Leaving a legacy that can’t be disputed, he was an Oscar winner and won six Golden Globes, five Grammys and two Emmys in a career that spanned five decades.