In the season premiere of Vice TV’s “Dark Side of Comedy,” friends of the late Bay Area comedian Robin Williams speak candidly about his struggles with addiction during the peak of his fame.

“With drugs, he was a monster,” Mike Binder, a fellow comedian and close acquaintance, said of Williams in the latest episode of the docuseries, which first aired on Tuesday, Oct. 17.

Williams, who died by suicide in 2014 at his Marin County home at age 63, openly discussed his fight against addiction, which escalated in the late 1970s during his rise to stardom on the hit television show “Mork & Mindy.”

Gina Hecht, Williams’ colleague on the series, recounted how the prevalence of cocaine in the entertainment industry, especially during the early ’80s, made it dangerously accessible to celebrities.

“When you did have that kind of fame, drugs were just given to you,” she said.

Williams’ addiction became alarmingly evident during his high-intensity stand-up performances, prompting concern from his friends.

Allan Stephan, a fellow comic, recalled a moment he confronted Williams before a performance, highlighting the extent of his dependence: “He said, ‘Know anybody with any blow? I have to go on. I can’t go on without the blow.’ I sat down and said, ‘I’m going to help you.’ He goes, ‘You have blow? ’ I go, ‘No, are you out of your f—ing mind? You’re Robin Williams! ’ ”

Robin Williams performs at Greek Theatre in Berkeley in 1980. Friends describe his prolific use of drugs in the ’80s in the series “Dark Side of Comedy.”

His friends revealed that the death of fellow comedian John Belushi, who succumbed to a drug overdose in 1982 after hanging out with Williams, served as a wake-up call.

In 1988, he told People magazine that he used cocaine “to hide” but had quit when his first wife, Valerie Velardi, became pregnant with their son, Zachary.

Binder shared a story of a night out in Los Angeles with Williams in the early ’80s, when the late comedian spotted “a gram of coke” in his pocket.

“Robin said, ‘Let me take that. Do you mind if I grab a hit off that in the bathroom? ’ ” Binder said. “He came back, and it was empty. It was like, ‘Whoa.’ It was like 8:15 at night.”

While Williams continued to struggle with alcoholism, he gave up drugs “cold turkey,” according to his acquaintances.

“He knew what an amazing instrument that he had, and that it is all related to his mind and his imagination and his wit,” said Stanley Wilson, a childhood friend. “The more stuff you do to deaden that, the more you’re going to burn some more brain cells. Robin didn’t want to do that.”

Williams’ exceptional abilities as a stand-up comedian and actor were evident in his diverse roles, from the 1987 film “Good Morning, Vietnam” to 1989’s “Dead Poets Society,” and “Good Will Hunting” in 1997, which earned him an Academy Award for best supporting actor. Other notable roles were in “The Fisher King” (1991), “Mrs. Doubtfire” (1993), “The Birdcage” (1996) and “Night at the Museum” (2006).

Robin Williams, left, Jose Simon and Whoopi Goldberg hang out backstage during Comedy Day in Golden Gate Park in 1987.

Despite his professional success, Williams’ struggles intensified over the years. A posthumous HBO documentary titled “Robin Williams: Come Inside My Mind,” released in 2018, shed light on his life, work, and challenges with addiction and Lewy body dementia, a progressive neurological disorder that affects thinking, movement and mood.

Williams’ friends recounted the visible changes in his demeanor in the last few years of his life.

“The last time I saw Robin Williams, I hadn’t seen him for a few months, and he was thin and he didn’t recognize my wife,” said Steven Pearl, a comedian and friend. “He hardly said a word. It took him a second to recognize me. I go, ‘Whoa, something’s wrong here.’ I didn’t know what. Nobody would really tell me. And then I never saw him again after that.”

Hecht said she last saw her “Mork & Mindy” co-star at his final Broadway show, “Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo,” in 2011.

“We saw him afterward, and it was so nice to see him,” Hecht said. “We chatted for a bit. When we left the theater, Brian, my husband, said, ‘Something is off.’ I said, ‘What do you mean? ’ He said, ‘That sparkle in his eye is gone.’ I thought, ‘No, no, no.’ But he was right. That sparkle had faded.”