It is something of a tragedy that the last role anyone gets to see of Robin Williams is in the inferior Night At The Museum sequel that has just hit cinemas (he's actually in Terry Jones' Absolutely Anything but in a vocal performance only next year), but it's not entirely unfitting. The actor and comedian was a brilliant talent, not only as a stand-up but also as a genuine straight actor, and his career was typified by some serious highs; unfortunately, it was also blighted by some terrible lows, painting a picture of contradiction that was ultimately the most bewildered reaction to his suicide. Because sanctifying departed heroes is foolish, it remains important to look at Williams' career as a whole: the greatest tragedy of his professional life was not that he wasn't offered the opportunity to truly show his ability, it was that he balanced so much of what was stunningly effective and disarmingly brilliant with utter dross that it was difficult to tell which the real Williams was. But then even looking back at those terrible films adds value to the best of his performances: to think that the same actor who committed Flubber to film could win an Oscar for a dramatic role (and be overlooked for other brilliantly affecting performances of the same ilk in Dead Poet's Society, Awakenings and The Fisher King) is an astonishing revelation. It's just a shame that that dynamic had to exist at all; that Williams' obviously supreme talent was tainted by poor career choices and terrible material that he simply shouldn't have been given to work with. With that in mind, it's time to look back at the career of one of the most tragic and deeply felt losses of 2014, starting with the soaring highs...
