Edward James Olmos

Watch Edward James Olmos receive bad news. He does not raise his voice, he barely moves, and the lines in his face do most of the work. As Admiral William Adama in Battlestar Galactica (2004–09) he made command look like a burden rather than a prize; there is a heaviness in him that stops us treating the job as a reward. He has a gruff voice and a face built for seriousness, and he has spent five decades declining to use either more than he has to.

The career took a while to arrive. He began in a rock band and small television parts in the 1970s, then broke through on stage as El Pachuco in Luis Valdez's Zoot Suit (1978), which reached Broadway and became a film in 1981. Feature work followed, including Gaff in Ridley Scott's Blade Runner (1982), a part small enough that our own review does not mention him. Leading roles were slow to come despite the notice; it was Martin Castillo in Miami Vice (1984–89) that made him a fixture. Then came Stand and Deliver (1988), as the teacher Jaime Escalante, and American Me (1992), which he directed and led as Montoya Santana, neither of which we have reviewed.

Castillo is where we first understood what he does. We sat down to Miami Vice for Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas and the pastel clothes, and found, a little to our surprise, that the scenes we kept thinking about afterwards were the ones where Castillo said almost nothing and everyone else stopped talking. He gives the part gravity without making seriousness look like an effort, and that is the trick. Most actors playing the boss want you to notice they are serious. Olmos lets you notice it on your own.

Adama is the same instinct given a whole series to run in, and he also directed episodes of it. He did not want the job. "When I first got involved with this, I didn't really want to be on a television show and I certainly didn't want to be on a show called Battlestar Galactica." Whatever changed his mind, the reluctance suits the character. Mary McDonnell's Laura Roslin has to bring real firmness to stop the drama becoming his, and the series is better for the contest. Its gloom can wear, as we said when we reviewed it; Olmos is part of why, and also part of why it is bearable, because he never once asks for sympathy.

The limits are the ones you would expect. His parts run to authority and intensity, and lightness has rarely been on offer. He has carried on into the 2020s with film, television including Mayans M.C., voice work and occasional directing, still saying less than the people around him. Start with the early seasons of Miami Vice and the first year of Battlestar Galactica. Bring patience; he will not hurry for you.