The late actor left an indelible impact on everyone who saw his work
Last year I wrote an article on The Wire, one of my favorite television shows of all time. In that article I highlighted one of the characters in the show that stood out to me – Omar – portrayed by the late Michael K. Williams, who tragically passed away on September 6..
This article is simply an ode to the late Mr. Williams. He was not a classically trained actor. He was by no means a celebrity in the traditional sense. Yet he remains inspirational because of where he came from, and what he evolved into. GQ writer Julian Kimble explained it best; “he found his purpose… by elevating the stories of people the world has historically shown little interest or mercy.” Williams showed many that even the most convoluted characters are still human, and he taught us to empathize with the people that the world has not been kind to.
Williams learned how to act to survive. As a young man in the Vanderveer projects of New York, he attempted to imitate local criminals. Imitate is the keyword – Williams was molested as a child, and it left him confused and insecure. His cool prose was a façade, and he spent years being tormented by bullies.
On his twenty fifth birthday a bar fight broke out and he left with what would become his signature vertical scar, that vertically cuts across the majority of his face. Formerly a back-up dancer and choreographer, Williams’ new look led him to be tagged for tough guy roles. In 1996, he portrayed High Top, the brother of Tupac’s character Tank, in Bullet. But it was his role in The Wire that would change his life.
As Omar, Williams became one of the most recognizable characters on the show. Omar was frightening, lethal, passionate, charismatic, and loving all at once. When Omar came into frame everyone else on the show ran. Drug dealers would drop their packages. But he also effortlessly verbally dismantled a seasoned lawyer while on the stand during a cross examination in the second season of the show. And while the creators developed Omar into a menacing killer, he remained unbelievably human – whether it was wailing and crying at the sight of a dead lover, or publicly displaying affection to his boyfriend. Williams admitted to becoming inextricably tied to his character, so much that he had trouble releasing the role when he left the show. In 2014, he told The New York Times that the character of Omar was his “Spider-Man suit” – he wished to be as powerful, confident, and authentic as his television counterpart.
After The Wire, Williams played the bootlegger Albert “Chalky” White on Boardwalk Empire, a number of other smaller roles, and then notably Montrose Freeman in Lovecraft Country. Williams admitted that playing Freeman was not easy, and that he “…thought [he] was gonna snap.” He said the role took him to dark places and pushed him to his limits, and he received an Emmy nomination for his role in the show.
A career summary doesn’t do the life of Michael K. Williams much justice, but it is the context of his resume that elevates his story. As a child, he tried to hide behind tough facades, though he was incredibly insecure and dealing with major trauma. He was then cut across his face, becoming what he had longed so hard to be seen as – an ultimate tough guy. As Omar on The Wire he demonstrated that even the roughest and toughest can be sensitive, passionate, and loving – he was playing the character he had always wanted to be, and he was morphing into him. He developed a new appreciation for portraying pain-ridden characters, and worked tirelessly in his portrayal of Montrose Freeman in Lovecraft Country, granting him an Emmy nomination. Williams shone when playing the misunderstood – a category that he himself would fall into – which is closely connected the level of authenticity in his performances.
Michael K. Williams was someone who experienced pain growing up. He was sensitive and insecure, yet, he could be menacing. He took pride in showing the world what people like him are truly like. You can be tough, you can be sensitive, and you can be those things at the same time – they are not mutually exclusive. You can be authentic.
Rest in peace Michael K. Williams. Thank you for teaching me, and everyone else, about the people that the world has forgotten. And thank you, for helping me to see the humanity in everyone.