Recently, I attended a memorial for a dear friend, mentor and sometimes collaborator, Howard Storm. In his life, Howard excelled as a comedian, director, producer, world-class “storyteller” and laugh-out-loud funny guy! Among his many accomplishments, Howard directed almost all the episodes of the iconic sit-com “Mork and Mindy” starring Robin Williams as Mork and Pam Dauber as Mindy. In the third season I had the opportunity to observe Howard’s directing style and then, thanks to Howard, to direct the show.
Howard and I became friends as actors at The Committee, the iconic improv theater troupe. Robin began his career as a mime and a clown in the parks of San Francisco. Watching Howard and Robin work together, I connected strongly with their shared sense of play and improvisational freedom. Robin was, well… Robin!! And Howard was born into a very special world. As a child he was part of his father’s comedy act touring the “Borsch Belt” circuit. From early on, Howard learned comedy timing. And he learned “funny”! As a director, Howard knew how to take control even as he gave Robin freedom to fly.
Howard had a special instinct for how Robin’s improv genius met the needs of the sit-com format. When Robin would go off, and Howard would, at just the right moment, bring him back to the storyline. Robin listened. The show’s writers would come to run-throughs, then happily add Robin’s funniest improvs to the script – a team effort! Paul Sills, a founding father of improvisational theater in America, spoke of his own early successes in theater as creating “the space” where “each show was a discovery.” Robin and Howard, working together week after week, show after show, created such spaces, filled with constant discoveries.
When I directed “Mork and Mindy”, Robin’s idol, Jonathan Winters, had joined the cast as Mearth, Mork’s son from Ork. The challenge of directing the two greatest living comedy improvisors was intimidating and thrilling. In a crucial scene, Mearth came in with a “booboo” on his finger. Robin and Jonathan took off on a long, and (no surprise) funny improvisation. As director, I saw that the story momentum of the scene was suffering. I summoned my “inner Howard.” I stopped them and gave the direction: “You can do or say anything, as long as it’s always about the ‘booboo’.” They got it! The scene flew forward, on focus and hilarious.
For that moment and for so many other lessons about how to be a great comedy director, a great friend, and a great guy, “Thank you, Howard!”