The tragedy of comedy

The clown who laughs on the outside while crying — or dying — on the inside is a dramatic cliché often portrayed on stage and screen. When we experienced it in real life in the form of the life and sudden death of Robin Williams, it was heartbreaking. There was a bond the mercurial, ad-libbing, fast-talking, comic genius built with his audience that made him a very special performer. In India, too, he was a revered figure after his role in Mrs Doubtfire — as the divorced husband who pretends to be a governess to be close to his kids — was adapted by Kamal Haasan in the 1996 Tamil film Avvai Shanmughi and in its 1997 Hindi remake Chachi 420, which he directed too. While Kamal believes comedians who maintain an eternal funny facade tend to invite depression, Williams himself put the beginning of his personal troubles down to cocaine, which he said was “God’s way of telling you that you make too much money”. Substance abuse is a phenomenon that is no more a monopoly of Hollywood or of the First World. Its dangers are very much at our doorstep too. Grief was the principal emotion that Williams’ ultimately cowardly act of hanging himself triggered in large sections of movie watchers around the world. Ironically, he was scathingly funny in many of his roles, prompting critics who believe comedy draws blood to say his was comedy as catharsis. His death once again puts in the spotlight the dark side of life that we often suppress in our search of happiness.