And so we come to The Final Cut, a recent entry in the Williams oeuvre.
Ones first impression is that The Final Cut is most likely going to be an example of The Funny Strange. Williams has no beard, appears rather sheepish, and spends a lot of time with photographic equipment of some sort, ala One Hour Photo. He looks harmless, but nobody who's harmless would wear such a jacket, surely, and also, there's some stuff before the credits about a kid falls down a big hole.
What The Final Cut concerns itself with, is that it's the future time, and so a new invention by the name of The Zoe Implant is fitted into the heads of folks whose parents can afford it, recording every second of their lives, which will then be edited and screened at their funeral, or "remembering". The folks who spend their lives doing the cutting and the pasting are known, fittingly enough, as Cutters, and it turns out this is what Robin Williams does with his time now.
He must be pretty hard-up in the future, I'm guessing. Surely the royalties from Rock DJ didn't run out that quick?
The Final Cut, let's be honest here, is cursed with a screenplay fit only for wiping the crud from the arseholes of fallen harlots. Every time anyone opens their mouth, you can be sure they're gonna say something imbecilic. You can be sure nobody is gonna say "So what did you make of Get Over It, then?" during car-journeys, since most likely they're gonna say "So here we are, taking the car to the office where my cousin Alfred works" or some such bollocks, even though they're half-way through the journey already. Who would say that, in a real life automobile-based conversation? You might say "So, you wanna go to Alfred's office?" when you meet your traveling partner, but you ain't gonna wait until half-way through the ride to say it. He knows it's your cousin, I'm guessing. It was his fucking idea to go in the first place. What the fuck do you need to say that for, anyhow? Why can't you just shut your stinking face, if every time you open your yap you're gonna make a mockery of this whole futuristic get-up?