Entertainment

Paul Williams doc captures life after addiction

Back in the 1970s, songwriter Paul Williams was everywhere: on the pop charts, in the movies, on TV. But in a haze of booze and drugs, the '80s became his lost decade. A new documentary examines his recovery and his new outlook on fame.
The documentary Paul Williams: Still Alive, chronicles the life of the hit songwriter, who enjoyed chart success in the 1970s and then fell into drug and alcohol addiction. (TIFF)

Throughout the 1970s, you would have been hard pressed to escape Paul Williams.

The diminutive songwriter created big hits for the Carpenters (We’ve Only Just Begun), Helen Reddy (You and Me Against the World), Three Dog Night (Old Fashioned Love Song) and many more. He also made countless movie and television appearances, from Battle for the Planet of the Apes and Smokey and the Bandit II to The Tonight Show and The Love Boat (for which he also wrote the theme song). And then there’s his work on The Muppets Movie (1979), which produced one of the most recognizable children’s songs ever, Rainbow Connection.

And then in the ‘80s, he just sort of vanished from the spotlight. Filmmaker and longtime fan Stephen Kessler took on the task of tracking Williams down to see what became of the once ubiquitous star, and the results can be seen in Paul Williams: Still Alive, screening at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival.

CBC News spoke with Paul Williams about the film, his career and, of course, the Muppets.

CBC News: As an actor, how was this film different from other projects you’ve worked on?

Paul Williams: I was reluctant to do the project from the very beginning. I mean, I wasn’t sure that there was anything to gain out of it. And then the process kind of fascinated me, and the way that the film has led us to what it was going to be, as opposed to us really leading the film. As an actor, even if it’s something I’ve written and had a lot of input on, like [the 1974 Brian De Palma film] Phantom of the Paradise, it’s still something that’s coming out of you, but it’s not about you.

I did 48 Tonight Shows with Johnny Carson — I remember six of them. Steve found all this footage of all these things that I did, and some of it’s wonderful. Some of it’s hard to watch, because I’m really messed up. What I say in the film is that what shocks me is to think that I had no awareness of how totally unlikeable and inauthentic and full of shit I was. It’s hard for me to watch it. But the value of that is we can now talk about how different my life is today.

How invasive was the documentary process?

You see it throughout the film, where I’m telling Steve to turn the camera off. But the other thing that happened is that he and I became really good friends. It’s one thing for someone to come up to me and say they got married to We’ve Only Just Begun or Evergreen, but to have somebody want to devote years of their life to making a movie about you says a lot — how he wanted to work so hard on something that came out of my heart and wound up in his. Slowly but surely, we became brothers.

You’ve been very forthcoming about your experience with addiction, especially your battle to overcome it. What got you to clean up?

I feel like this is a second life. You know you’re an alcoholic when you misplace a decade. That’s key when I speak about recovery, that the ’80s are really gone for me. As your celebrity grows, you become this sort of showroom model of who you really are. In early recovery, for the first time in your life, you turn into someone you don’t even know and so you reach out to someone for help. It was the perfect antidote to the kind of isolation I had felt as a celebrity, where I didn’t feel worthy of all the attention.

Barbra Streisand, left, and songwriter Paul Williams clutch their Golden Globe awards, after winning Best Original Song - Motion Picture for Evergreen (Love Theme from A Star Is Born) in 1977. (Hulton Archive/Getty Images )

Are you comfortable now with fame?

It’s at a really nice level right now. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be Lady Gaga, in the midst of what she’s going through right now. What’s nice is that it’s at a level for me that is respectful and comfortable.

You’re well known to a certain generation for your work with the Muppets. What did you find that was so special about working with Jim Henson and his creations?

I think that Jim Henson knew the difference between childlike and childish. There was something that was so wondrous and childlike about his love of his art and the way that played into his work. It’s like, as a songwriter, sometimes the work just comes and it’s fun, whereas sometimes it’s like you’re standing on the hose and the creativity just doesn’t flow. Jim had a black belt in letting his creativity flow.

He was also so completely trusting about letting you do your own work. After my work with him on The Muppet Show, we got along so well that he asked me to write the songs for The Muppet Movie. I brought in [songwriter and longtime Williams collaborator] Kenny Ascher to work with me on it. We had the first meeting at my house with Jim and his creative team, and we were going through the film’s plot to see where the songs would go. As we were walking out of the house that day, I told Jim that I would keep him in the loop when it came to how the songs were developing. He said, "That’s OK, I’ll hear them in the studio." It’s been 30 years and I look back at the immensity of that statement that he was willing to let me just go. That’s the legacy of Jim Henson — he was an amazing teacher at the same time as being a collaborator.

You mention those songs were written with Ken Ascher. Do you prefer writing songs with a partner or alone?

It’s always different. When I started out and Roger Nichols and I were writing for the Carpenters, I would hear the lyrics in his music. But Roger would end up going home to his wife at night and my life at that time was at the studio, so I would stay there all night. If there were people around to write with, I’d bring them in, but if no one was around, I’d just write by myself. Then I wrote a hit on my own, Old-Fashioned Love Song, so they backed off and let me do what I wanted.

The fact is working with some people, you walk into a room with them and you feel like you’ve known them your whole life — you don’t know how. Sometimes, though, you sit down to write with somebody and it’s like pulling teeth. The easiest person for me to write with is Paul Williams — he’s always there when I’m ready.

One of my favourite songs of yours is Old-Fashioned Love Song. What’s the story behind that one?

That’s the fastest song I ever wrote. I wrote it in literally 20 minutes. What happened was I went to pick up a girl for a date and she had an old upright piano in her house. I got a phone call before I left telling me that I had a record on the charts. I don’t remember what the record was, but it was looking to be a hit. So I walked into her house and she said, "Well, you did it again with another old-fashioned love song!" I went over to the piano and she went over to put on a pot of coffee and by the time the coffee was done, I was done with the song — I wrote it really quickly. And I’ve had critics say it sounds like it! [Laughs.]

Your songs have been covered by many different artists. Who stands out among the pack?

Ray Charles. I got on an airplane one time flying from New York to L.A. and it was a red eye that stopped in Chicago. So the plane sets down in Chicago and Ray Charles gets on and sits down right in front of me in first class. We’d never met, but he’d just recorded a song of mine called A Perfect Love. I don’t even know if he knows who I am, but I just lean forward and sang the first line of the song, "‘Old enough to know when I’ve been wrong,’" and he went, "‘Yes, I’m fool enough to think I still might change.’ Hello, Paul!" It was one of those moments in your life that you can hang on the wall and look at it.

When rock acts cover my work, it’s just great, because that’s what I wanted to do — I wanted to be David Bowie, but it just didn’t work out! I was at my best when I wrote from my heart and those songs tended to be what I call "co-dependent anthems" — pick-me-up-and-love-me songs. So when edgier acts cover my work, it’s an honour, because that’s the kind of music I’ve always loved.

What do you hope the film brings to others?

The message that recovery works. At some level, if you take care of your number one problem, everything else takes care of itself. I have a really full life today and I’ve never felt more useful. The film carries an important message to those that need it, and for the rest of the world, I think it will still be really enjoyable. Steve Kessler is an amazing filmmaker. My hope is that if [the film] gets one other person sober, then we’ve made a really great film.

Paul Williams: Still Alive screens on Sept. 11, Sept. 14 and Sept. 18 at the Toronto International Film Festival.