Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, November 26, 1993 TAG: 9311290172
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By IAN SPELLING|
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
``The only coincidences are they're both housekeepers and they take care of children,'' he says.
``Does she bring the family together? In a way.''
Suddenly his blue eyes brighten.
``Maybe there's more of a coincidence . . .''
Now he's smiling and his voice changes.
``I'm seeing it,'' he gasps excitedly. ``I should've had an umbrella! If we'd only had songs! I've got the bag! And Dick Van Dyke's on the roof!''
Williams can easily turn a normal conversation into a laugh-till-you-cry experience.
Today, as he does a series of interviews on behalf of ``Mrs. Doubtfire'' at a Manhattan hotel, the 42-year-old actor is by turns calm and thoughtful, then out there in free-association land.
In much the same way, ``Doubtfire'' plays off both Williams' sensitive side and his formidable comedic talents.
Williams stars as Daniel Hillard, a loving father of three young kids whose wife, Miranda (Sally Field), wants a divorce. Daniel, a voiceover actor, is currently unemployed, so Miranda wins temporary custody of the children.
Unable to cope with the court-imposed separation from his brood, Daniel turns to his brother Frank (Harvey Fierstein), a makeup artist, for help.
Before you can say ``Chim Chim Cher-ee,'' Daniel arrives at his San Francisco home disguised as a 60-year-old British nanny, Mrs. Doubtfire.
``I love the character and what the story is about,'' says Williams, who is no stranger to divorce.
He and his ex-wife, Valerie Velardi, share custody of their 10-year-old son Zachary.
``It's this outrageous character and this real story,'' he says. ``It has an outrageousness to it that allows for incredible comedy elements.
``Also, it'll be pretty real for a lot of families in America who are no longer nuclear families. They're more like nuclear-fission families.''
To become Mrs. Doubtfire, Williams had to sit in a makeup chair for two-and-a-half hours (``on a good day'') and then slip into a padded bodysuit and women's clothing.
His face was totally covered by a mask and makeup, while a wig hid the rest of his head.
``It was like being in the world's largest condom,'' he says.
The bodysuit, which Williams describes as something like a big beanbag chair, trapped his body heat. The costume's restrictive orthopedic socks only made matters worse.
Every 40 minutes production assistants had to blast cold air from an air conditioner onto the actor to keep ``Mrs. Doubtfire'' from turning into ``House of Wax.''
``It's like having a bad fever after a while. You become a Tennessee Williams play,'' he says, his voice taking on a Southern accent. ```Oh, mendacity. The dog, I never hurt the dog.''
As Mrs. Doubtfire, Williams experienced some of the ``glories'' of being female.
``I'll never understand all the cosmetic things women go through,'' he says. ``Starting with heels. God, who invented them? Somebody who said, `I want to hurt her spine.'
``After 10 minutes I was like, `God almighty!' - and I was wearing old-lady orthopedic heels! They were just 3 inches.
``Bras, girdles, waxing, all that attention to detail women have to pay. . . . I have a greater appreciation for them.''
Chris Columbus, who directed the two ``Home Alone'' films, was at the helm on ``Doubtfire.'' For this picture, he decided to shoot scenes as scripted, then let Williams run amok for several takes.
Williams was thrilled with his artistic freedom.
``If [a director] is confident enough, he's not afraid of my playing,'' he says.
``I went very far out. Sometimes my talk as Mrs. Doubtfire was very blue. They couldn't use it.
``This is a PG-13 movie. I did R-rated versions.''
Still, Williams is confident that even the PG-13 version of Mrs. Doubtfire is a funny, believable character.
``She's everybody's aunt,'' he says. ``She's quite lovable, this sweet little blue-mouthed lady who can say obscene things and still be gentle. She's very nourishing.
``The moment I saw the makeup tests I said, `This is very sweet.' She's also got a power to her: `Don't fuss with me. Stop right there!'
``Once it had all the elements it really fit and it felt right.''
Many things seem to feel right for Williams these days.
He is happily married to Marsha Garces, who was once the nanny to his son Zachary and later was his personal assistant.
Since marrying, the couple have had two children - Zelda, 4, and Cody, 2 - and moved to a new home in San Francisco. Williams has also given up the drugs and booze that, during the late '70s and early '80s, were a big part of his life.
``Mrs. Doubtfire'' was practically a family affair.
Garces was one of the film's producers, and Zelda and Cody visited the set often. Because the movie was shot in San Francisco, Williams was able to return home every night.
``Doubtfire,'' which opened nationwide Wednesday, is only one of many projects with which Williams has been involved recently.
The one-time ``Mork and Mindy'' star will make a brief return to television in an upcoming episode of ``Homicide,'' the acclaimed but low-rated NBC series created by Barry Levinson.
The episode, in which Williams plays a man who witnesses his wife's murder, was directed by Levinson, who also directed Williams in last year's movie misfire, ``Toys.''
On the big screen, Williams will play five characters - all named Hector - in Bill Forsythe's ``Being Human,'' which is already in the can. It is scheduled to be released in early 1994.
Future projects may include a series of stand-up comedy appearances and a role as the Riddler in the next ``Batman'' sequel.
One project that probably won't be on the actor's list is ``Mayor of Castro Street,'' a film about slain gay politician Harvey Milk. Though Williams had once expressed interest in playing Milk, he has since changed his mind.
``It's not happening because of the script,'' he says. ``It didn't work for me. There are other parts in it I'd play, but his wasn't what I felt I wanted to play. So it'll probably go to someone else.''
While discussing his future plans, Williams seems uncharacteristically calm and reflective.
It's a mood his fans may see more of, now that Williams has discovered the pleasures of ``turning off'' every now and then.
``There's so much you can pick up just by listening,'' Williams says. ``The one problem I had was not listening. I was `on' so much, I missed things. I was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Williams.
``I can still perform and be on sometimes, but in real life I can now be very quiet and observe.
``That's nice.''
To become Mrs. Doubtfire, Robin Williams had to sit in a makeup chair for two-and-a-half hours and then slip into a padded bodysuit and women's clothing.
Ian Spelling is a New York City free-lance writer.
by CNB