By Gregory Davis, Staff Writer
With the help of the Creative Mind Group, I had the pleasure of traveling to Cannes, France to attend the Cannes Film Festival for two weeks in May. Heading into such a revered event in the film industry, I could not temper my expectations. Yet, the festival managed to soar above anything I could have imagined.
From red carpet premieres to networking events with major players in the industry, I found myself pinching my arm every so often to remind myself this was all real. However, no moment had me doubting my consciousness quite like the night I met the one and only Mrs. Doubtfire.
I was sitting at a restaurant enjoying a delicious filet of beef with some friends, when a “woman” pulled up a chair and took a seat at our table unannounced. I turned my head, and my jaw dropped. It was a man in a blonde wig, pink sweater, plaid kilt and brown handbag; the look made famous by Robin Williams in the hilarious “Mrs. Doubtfire.” But was it THE Mrs. Doubtfire? Was it Robin Williams in the flesh?
My friends looked at me, wondering what in the world I knew that they had yet to realize. When I whispered, “That’s Robin Williams,” some of them refused to believe it, while others were overcome with the same jaw-dropping expression I had been struck with.
Like most other 19-year-old males, my immediate reaction was to get up, walk over to him and ask for a picture. While he muttered broken French in a Mrs. Doubtfire voice too accurate not to be the real thing, I put my arm around his shoulder — positive this was Robin Williams himself — and said in his ear, “Only you would do this.”
The French mumblings of a man who clearly did not understand a word of the language came to a stop, and for a brief moment, he broke character.
He whispered into my ear — American male voice and all — “I know, right?”