It’s hard to meet someone who hasn’t been touched in some way by the groundbreaking NBC sitcom “The Cosby Show.” Every Thursday night at 8 p.m., the world stopped to watch a cast of characters that defined the 1980s and, for many, would become household names. Amongst the all-star cast was “Theo,” played by Malcolm-Jamal Warner. Theo was the brother and son who spoke for a large voiceless part of America. He was smart, funny, hip and quirky in a world that pretended all Black boys were either thugs, criminals or athletes. He was the first middle-class Black teen boy character that the country had ever seen on TV.
It was both healing and affirming to see a kid who was brilliant but struggled in school, wasn’t an athlete, loved jazz and hip hop, constantly tried to impress girls and always had ambition. Theo was the guy that many of us wanted to be.
Malcolm’s portrayal of Theo earned him an Emmy nomination and endeared him to millions of viewers during the show’s eight-season run from 1984 to 1992. After “The Cosby Show,” Warner would go on to have a brilliant acting career, starring in numerous hit shows and movies.
What many people don’t know is that Malcolm was a brilliant bass player and captivating spoken word artist who released several albums and even won a Grammy with Robert Glasper in 2015. Baltimore first got a glance of his talents in 2004 when Warner made an impromptu appearance at “Organic Soul Tuesdays,” a local open-mic jam session. Malcolm joined the house band, playing bass behind various singers, poets and rappers. After the night was over, the humble celebrity didn’t rush off in a limo but rather sat and talked with the artists who attended the event and even exchanged contact information. Interactions like this would continue throughout Warner’s life in cities around the country. The evidence of their impact is evident in the hundreds of social media posts that have flooded timelines this week.
Questlove (The Roots) said, “Malcolm expressed ZERO cynicism or bitterness in his journey and constantly lived in the present, which dictated his future—he was never the guy stuck in a glory days bubble (but always graciously obliged me when I asked a gajillion questions of ‘what was it like back then?’ And that’s who he was to many of us.”
So, while millions of Americans lament the guy who defined an era, there is an underbelly of artists and independent art lovers who hurt differently. We were blessed not only to see Theo but also to meet Malcolm.
Malcolm was 54 at his passing and leaves to mourn a wife and a daughter.
