Why Robin Williams wanted Jim Carrey protected at all costs: “He doesn’t deserve the beating”
Even though he wasn’t the first trailblazing stand-up comedian to successfully navigate the leap into film and television before evolving into an acclaimed dramatic actor, there’s a strong case to be made that Robin Williams did it better than anyone else.
It’s become a rite of passage for stars who cut their teeth on the stage before conquering the screen to seek out material with serious heft to test themselves as powerhouse performers, and the evidence is there that most of the famous faces who traded tour-de-force routines for serious movies are capable of giving at least one celebrated performance.
Will Ferrell, Adam Sandler, Steve Carell, Eddie Murphy, Tom Hanks, Bill Murray, Bill Hader, and Peter Sellers are just some of those who went from tickling funny bones to tugging at heartstrings, segueing from stand-up, sitcoms, Saturday Night Live, and broad comedies into drama with the greatest of ease, with many of them earning awards season recognition.
Williams knew better than most that it wasn’t the easiest thing to achieve, having suffered a couple of false starts of his own. His first leading role in a movie was in Popeye, which wasn’t exactly a highlight, while early dramatic turns in The World According to Garp and Moscow on the Hudson were well-received without being rapturously greeted.
Eventually, the former Mork & Mindy breakout settled into his groove, keeping one foot in each world, alternating between the madcap antics of Mrs Doubtfire, Hook, and Flubber and the grounded, straight-laced stylings of Awakenings, The Fisher King, Dead Poets Society, and his Academy Award-winning turn in Good Will Hunting.
By the mid-1990s, Williams had been usurped by Jim Carrey as Hollywood’s marquee rubber-faced comic, with the latter going stratospheric after Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, The Mask, and Dumb and Dumber. The Cable Guy was a marked change of pace, but it suffered from severe mismarketing.
Plenty of headlines were generated by Carrey’s record-breaking $20 million paycheque, and selling the picture in trailers and TV spots as a standard star vehicle betrayed its darker edges. It was the actor’s first major misfire since he broke through, and Williams instantly rushed to his defence.
“I talked with Jim recently and Tom Hanks’ birthday party,” he told The Calgary Sun in 1996 amid a bout of serious name-dropping. “Like Steve Martin, Eddie Murphy, John Cleese and I, Jim is a member of the brotherhood of the bozo. We’re clowns who have our good days and our not-so-good days. He doesn’t deserve the beating he’s getting for The Cable Guy.”
Fortunately, Williams was also able to predict the future, putting an encouraging arm around Carrey’s shoulder and informing him that working with Peter Weir on The Truman Show had the potential to redefine how he was perceived in the industry. “I told him not to worry,” he said. “I told him Peter would take him to places he hasn’t been before. That’s what he did for me with Dead Poets Society.”
Of course, he was right on the money. Carrey gave a career-best turn in The Truman Show, won a Golden Globe despite being snubbed by the Academy in the ‘Best Actor’ race, and quickly consigned The Cable Guy to history as an anomaly that did nothing in the long run to take the shine off his star.
