Andre Braugher was funny and ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ was his magnum opus

Andre Braugher didn’t know if it would work. Playing Captain Raymond Holt on Brooklyn Nine-Nine presented a risk. He wasn’t worried about playing a cop – look at his résumé. But portraying a police officer in a comedy?

“I remember turning to my wife and asking her, ‘Is this funny?’ ” Braugher told Variety in 2020. “I couldn’t really judge.”

All these years later, the verdict is in, and rather emphatically: More than just funny, Braugher, who died Monday at 61, was hysterical as Raymond Holt.

His dramatic roles in Homicide: Life on the Street, Glory and The Mist prepared him to play off different types of characters. Braugher infused his character with a wit that contrasted with the zaniness that often characterized Nine-Nine. His droll delivery hit every joke perfectly, his facial expressions often became exclamation points for punchlines, and he mastered subtlety so well that Holt just raising his voice became funny.

Of course, he played the straight man in every pairing (even with Cheddar, Holt’s dog). Still, Braugher added different levels to that standard comedic role. Some pairings allowed him to find the comedy in Holt’s curiosity. Some channeled Holt’s inner cheerleader. Others gave him the chance to play petty and revel in said pettiness. One particular pairing found value in a surrogate father-son relationship in which the father (Holt) is so stuck in his ways that his refusal to express any emotion to someone who desperately needs that affirmation became a recurring gag for eight seasons.

“Holt is a really, really wonderful character, but I think in anybody else’s hands, it might have been something foolish, something silly,” Braugher told Variety.

That was the other part of his genius. Braugher took a character in this silly police precinct who was Black and gay yet never played him stereotypically. The rest of the characters on Nine-Nine and the audience didn’t know much about the man when the show started. As the seasons unfolded, Holt’s backstory came into focus. With every added layer, Braugher imbued Holt with dignity and authority.

Even when the character grew, his baseline remained the same. The other characters expect to see something different from their boss when the show introduces Kevin (Marc Evan Jackson), Holt’s husband. Perhaps he’s more affectionate at home or cuts loose. Maybe he even yells! It turns out he does act differently with Kevin and their dog. Still, the joke is that only Kevin and Holt understood those differences.

Their arguments were so discreet that Kevin or Holt usually played interpreter for the group. Holt apologized for “raising his voice” or embarrassing himself in front of his squad while the members of the squad exchanged puzzled looks. Even Holt’s affection for Cheddar stretched the word’s definition, but it all served a purpose. It made those moments when he joined games like Nine-Nine’s annual Halloween episodes hit harder. Braugher had the one thing all comedic actors want but seldom have once the audience becomes familiar with their work: the element of surprise.

Braugher felt the weight of playing a high-ranking Black police officer while the country grappled with police brutality and systemic racism in policing. Those feelings were heightened in the aftermath of the death of Freddie Gray, who died after he was injured while in police custody in 2015, which followed the killing of Michael Brown by police officer Darren Wilson in 2014. As a character, Holt acknowledged the almost insurmountable difficulties he dealt with throughout his career because of the melanin in his skin. He also helped his precinct’s Black and Latino members navigate the pitfalls he barely avoided.

Season Four dealt with the elephant in the room when a white officer almost arrested Terry Crews’ character Sgt. Terry Jeffords for being Black and fitting the description. That all-too-familiar situation let Braugher showcase his trademark seriousness as the show’s most prominent Black characters got honest with one another about their careers and the system that writes their checks.

With fewer years inside the system, Terry Jeffords believes he must file a complaint, thus bringing it to the department’s attention. While never once disagreeing on the situation’s seriousness, Holt believes putting their heads down and doing the work inside the system is their best move, especially with Jeffords in line for a promotion that puts him in a position to make real change. We saw two Black men figuring out the best way forward for them and the people coming behind them. Holt eventually supports Jeffords after realizing that he never had a commanding officer have his back when he faced similar racial discrimination.

Those scenes worked in this workplace comedy only when someone with Braugher’s talents was at the helm. He understood that earnest moments play best when the actors treat them seriously. Plus, if a show designed for laughs tries tackling heavy issues, it needs character depth to make it work. Holt contained multitudes. He wasn’t just a boss, husband, or co-worker, he was a person. Braugher found Holt’s humanity and nuance in a world that increasingly demands answers be black or white.

And none of that works if the producers had picked a “funny” actor for Raymond Holt. Instead, they chose a man who had trained at Juilliard, won two Emmys, and developed a career that ranged from playing cops to voicing one of Superman’s most ruthless enemies. Because Braugher approached everything professionally, Holt did as well.

Even the jokes.