Directed By: Tylor Norwood
Written by Scott Fitzloff and Tylor Norwood
Featuring: Interviews with Susan Schneider Williams, Shawn Levy, John R. Montgomery, Rick Overton and David E. Kelly
Running Time: 1 hour and 17 minutes

by Liz Wiest

Everyone remembers where they were the moment they received the news about Robin Williams’s death. As Vertical Entertainment’s latest documentary Robin’s Wish explores, the moment the story broke, every theory imaginable was broadcasted on all major news circuits, speculating how the country’s most beloved funny man could meet such an unspeakable fate. The shock rippled deeply through pop culture, and as a result, a national dialogue was opened up about the topic of mental illness. But despite the productivity of this cultural change, many still wondered about the grave reality. Did anyone really know what went on inside Robin’s mind? Who was the mysterious man behind the movies? Now, six years later, Tylor Norwood’s feature directorial debut attempts to tackle the question “What really happened to Robin Williams?” head on and dissect the complicated legacy of one of the most iconic actors in history.

This hook is without a doubt engaging, as there remains a great deal of people who still speculate about Robin’s untimely death and wonder if it could have been prevented. At first glance, the film promises to provide astonishing answers that had yet to be unearthed until this point. Unfortunately, many should expect to walk away with more questions than answers. The major bombshell of the story surrounds the gross misdiagnosis of Williams’ condition, explaining in detail the onset of his Lewy Body dementia, and how it was not until far too late that doctors realized this was the case. The thesis of the story, as stated repeatedly by Robin’s widow, is that if there had been more information, or a cure, perhaps the events that unfolded could have been prevented. This statement is made with great confidence, though is not bolstered with enough strong points on the parts of the filmmakers to make us believe that this is the case.

Cinematically, the film was stylistically that of an Oxygen made-for-tv docuseries- relying very heavily on recreation footage and staged interviews. Admittedly, the archival footage sprinkled in of Robin and his films was a pleasant addition and did much for tapping into the nostalgia factor for any avid fans. However, the portions featuring excerpts from medical professionals were shot very clinically- and resembled the visuals of a medical infomercial. Relying on the aid of expertise was very responsible on the part of the filmmakers, (especially given that Robin’s case of dementia was deemed by doctors to be one of the worst they had ever seen), though the segments where they are featured feel tonally completely out of place when side by side with heartwarming snapshots from his life.

Structurally, it is very unclear what narrative the filmmakers are attempting to piece together. The cutting to different points in time, lack of mentioning significant works in Robin’s career and the seemingly mismatched interviews often felt jarring and disjointed. One initial eye-raiser is the absence of many key figures from Robin’s life. His children are never featured, nor I believe even mentioned, which is significant given that most of them have not shied away from the topic of his death in the past. Their removal from the narrative immediately brought into question the validity of the story being told. Even Tiger King had interviews with the main players. Additionally, the interviews with distant friends and neighbors felt extremely forced, particularly those with Shawn Levy, the director of Night at the Museum 2. Robin’s close relationships to his costars are brought up numerous times, yet none of the aforementioned actors provide their own commentary in the film, something that feels very confusing given his widespread positive impact to those around him. While the attempt at capturing sincerity was notable and present, the seemingly meticulous cutting and pasting of Robin’s high-profile life muddled the trajectory and did not allow for the emotional beats to hit as hard as they had the potential to.

What was most interesting to me were the repeated claims from Susan Schneider Williams, his widow, that Robin beat depression earlier on in life prior to their relationship. While granted, no one can truly ever be sure of this, it ultimately feels like a strange statement to make given the nature of his passing. The documentary held Robin’s depression and Lewy Body so far from one another, that it was hard to determine if the filmmakers felt there was any correlation or causation between the two. And while scientifically speaking, Lewy Body dementia is directly linked to intensifying feelings of depression, anxiety and paranoia, to overall deny or belittle the existence of these feelings comes off as an attempt at “damage control” quite some time later. What is the “Why Now?” of the film? This question only grows more prevalent as the story goes on without truly digging deep into the events of those last few days, something that the tagline promised so eloquently to do.

The call to action at the end of the film provided resources for and encouraged the research of Lewy Body dementia, a cause that all can agree is a very noble one. While no one can be sure if an accurate diagnosis could have truly altered the state of events, raising awareness was a very positive note to end on that could hopefully somewhere down the line create a difference for someone else. Ultimately, despite the confusion that still remains surrounding the end of Robin Williams’s life, and the nature of his death, I personally believe that his legacy lives on in such a profound way that can never be erased or forgotten, a feeling that I’m certain the team behind Robin’s Wish and I undoubtedly have in common.

Available on Demand and Digital on September 1, 2020.