Will & A Way

Robin Williams had the ability to morph on stage in millisecond intervals with such a slicing proficiency that audience member’s heads wouldn’t just spin, they’d almost helicopter off and land at his feet; a bestowal more apt for the ripping comedian than a bouquet of roses. In 1991, directors John Musker and Ron Clements were gathering the elements necessary for a Disney cartoon version of the Aladdin tale, and one vital piece of the puzzle would be an actor who could play the transmutable Genie. They wanted Williams, and their plan would require a bit of work and some convincing.

Musker and Clements presented animator Eric Goldberg with a snippet from Williams’s brilliant Live at the Roxy, where he rifles off a few lines pretending to be a man with a mental disorder: “I guess I should talk for a moment about the very serious subject of schizophrenia.” “No, he doesn’t” “Shut up, let him talk!” They asked Goldberg to use the audio and animate the Genie character around it, and he did, creating a blue Genie who grows another head to argue with.

At the same time, Disney was busy procuring the comedian and actor for the animated role, but Williams turned it down, citing differences in business approach — he did not want to be part of a marketing machine. “I don’t want to sell stuff. It’s the one thing I don’t do,” he told New York Magazine in 1993.

Williams initially sent the script back without even reading it, but when he received Goldberg’s animation, he changed his mind. “Robin totally got what kind of potential animation had in utilizing his talents,” Goldberg told the LA Times in 2014.

Williams had a few caveats before he would sign on to do the film.

We had a deal. The one thing I said was I will do the voice. I’m doing it basically because I want to be part of this animation tradition. I want something for my children. One deal is, I just don’t want to sell anything — as in Burger King, as in toys, as in stuff.

There were specifics in Williams’ agreement with Disney. The Genie was not to take up more than 25 percent of the film’s posters. His voice was not to be used as marketing tool for products inspired by the film. Also, he agreed to only take the union standard for the gig: $75,000. Williams, who had already made a few pictures with the media giant, agreed on a handshake deal, and the project was underway.

Genius Working

Williams, Goldberg, Musker, and Clements went to work. The amount of voice work he was supposed to record began ballooning from less than a dozen hours to more than 30. Williams was loose, improvising and tossing out comedic grenades like an MLB pitcher in the trenches of war. Supervising animator, Goldberg, recalled Williams’ knack for riffing off-script.

Did I see Robin doing any improvisation? That would be like saying did you see the pope wearing his vestments? He turned into a game show host, an evangelist. Out came all the celebs — Arnold Schwarzenegger, John Wayne, George C. Scott. We took the stuff back to Burbank and went … ‘Oh my God, this is gold… Will they let us put this in the picture?’

Williams himself also seemed pleased with the process and the developing product. “I was improvising, and the animators came in and laughed, and it just grew. In times like this, when there’s so much crap running around, it’s great to laugh and be free.”