Last Tuesday evening, I attended a meeting of Yarmy's Army, a local (we meet in Beverly Hills) group to which I belong. It's kind of a social club for folks in show business, mostly male, mostly comedians, mostly older. I'm one of the younger members. We meet the second Tuesday of every month and whoever shows up shows up and we sit around and tell stories, plus the club does some good in terms of benefits for worthy causes and just plain helping each other.
This week, we had a record turnout for two reasons. One was that it was the birthday of one of the club's original members, Pat Harrington, Jr. You all know Pat from One Day at a Time and his work with Steve Allen and many other gigs. The other reason is that a lot of the guys felt the need to sit around and swap anecdotes about Robin Williams. The group's president/leader (I'm not sure what his title is) Howard Storm knew Robin pretty well, having crossed many a path on the comedy circuit and also directing episodes of Mork and Mindy. Several members had appeared on that series. A lot of the stories they told Tuesday evening went roughly like this…
So we're rehearsing and I have this line. Robin is supposed to say a certain line and then I say my line. But the problem is that he never says his line. He's saying all this stuff that isn't in the script I learned so I'm waiting and waiting and he doesn't say the line that leads into mine. I finally go to the director and ask, "When do I say my line?" And the director says, "Whenever you can."
I've heard from others who worked on that series that Mr. Williams' tendency to ad-lib the script has been greatly exaggerated; that while Robin did improvise material at times, what was also happening there was this: The scripts were constantly rewritten throughout the week of rehearsals and Robin, who had a great memory, would often throw in lines from earlier drafts…or alternate lines the writers had pitched to him. At least a few writers on Mork resented the assumption, made in some articles and everyday conversation, that if a line on the show was funny, it must have been a Robin ad-lib. No…and a lot of things Robin said on stage which sounded like spontaneous thoughts were also just the output of a good memory.
One of secret skills of most stand-ups is that even when the material isn't fresh, you make it sound like it is. Make it sound like you thought of it on the spot, even. I remember the first time I saw Robert Klein perform in person. He said a lot of things I would have taken as sudden thoughts on his part had I not heard them, verbatim and with the exact same pauses and delivery, on his albums. Bill Maher will often chuckle during a monologue as if he too is surprised and amused at what just came out of his mouth. None of this is considered dishonest. Performing comedy material is an exercise in acting. It's why some stand-ups become, as Robin Williams did, very fine actors.
Something I learned when I got involved in magic was this: Sometimes, a trick is more impressive when you know how it's done. The secret to some skills is a gimmick — a box with a false bottom, a prop with a hidden spring, etc. — but sometimes, it's a move that the magician spent months learning and practicing. There's card magic you do with a trick deck that contains extra aces…and then there's card magic you do with a normal deck and a lot of dexterity and misdirection. The lay spectator doesn't know which he's seeing but someone with a basic knowledge of magic can really be dazzled. He or she knows how hard that trick is to do because they know (approximately at least) what the magician is really doing to make it look like the Queen of Hearts turned into the Three of Clubs.
It's the same with performing humor. At the Comedy Store, I saw other comics dazzled by Robin Williams. That was the setting in which he was most likely to ad-lib and just blurt out any silly concept that appeared in his head at that moment…and he did, often. But you could also see him mentally juggling — and in real time — bits and lines he'd uttered before, fitting them in wherever they fit in. In a way, it was like a great magician making you look at his right hand so you wouldn't spot what his left was doing. Robin's speed was often his misdirection and it impressed the hell out of his peers. It also pissed off a few of them when lines he was recalling and using were not being recalled from his own repertoire but from theirs.
He admitted in several interviews that he'd done that…said something on stage and then realized later (or been told) it was something he'd heard, not something he'd invented. Some in the business forgave it. An agent for comedians (not Robin's) said to me once, "So what if 2% of what he says on stage isn't his? 98% of it was the most inventive comedy being done today." Others disputed those percentages but I think even those who felt they'd been pickpocketed admired the man's skills. I always thought those who dismissed him as a knock-off of Jonathan Winters were underestimating Williams. He was of the same species and the inspiration was undeniable…but he was also the only one of its kind. And sadly now, there is no one of his kind. That's what happens when you're the only one.