Edward Andrews

The Face of Smiling Bureaucracy

Edward Andrews never needed a leading role to take over the screen. His square jaw, thick-framed glasses and a laugh that always seemed to hide a contract in fine print defined him for decades. In 1956 he made his film debut in The Harder They Fall after spending twenty years grinding it out on Broadway stages.

And it worked.

Andrews understood that studio films needed gray men to make the stars of the day shine. So he specialized in characters who shook your hand while picking your pocket. Because Andrews knew the most dangerous villain is not the one who shouts, but the one who writes the laws.

In 1960, he played George F. Babbitt in Elmer Gantry with a precision that was almost uncomfortable to watch. That role as a hypocritical businessman showed that his physique was a tool of surgical precision. But his range didn't stop at cynicism or the rough drama of the boardroom.

He was a reliable guy.

From Corporate Cynicism to Family Comedy

Disney came calling in 1961 for The Absent-Minded Professor, and there he unleashed a comedic flair built on exasperation. Andrews could go from contained menace to pure absurdity without losing an ounce of professional dignity. He worked nonstop in television during the 60 and 70 seasons, in shows such as Bewitched and The Twilight Zone.

Nearly two hundred credits attest to a career with no room for diva behavior. Before filming, he would read the script looking for his opponent's weak spots in the story so he could attack them with his trademark verbal sparring. In 1964 he appeared in Send Me No Flowers alongside Rock Hudson and Doris Day, proving he could hold his own against the biggest names in physical comedy.

He never turned down a solid project.

But his talent for playing corrupt authority followed him to the end of his days. Casting directors saw him as the crooked senator or the perfect unscrupulous banker. In 1984 he filmed Sixteen Candles under John Hughes, playing grandpa Howard in a far gentler and more eccentric register.

That 1984 film marked the close of a career that spanned half a century of American entertainment history. Andrews died on March 8, 1985 in Santa Monica of a heart attack, just after finishing work on an episode for a television series. His last on-screen appearance was in the TV movie The Last Polka, which premiered that same year.