Hollywood has lost another piece of its classic comedic era. Ed Williams, the actor best remembered for his brilliantly straight-faced portrayal of eccentric lab scientist Ted Olsen in Police Squad! and The Naked Gun movies, passed away on October 2, 2025, in Los Angeles. He was 98.

Williams was one of the few remaining cast members from The Naked Gun franchise — a beloved series that redefined slapstick for a modern audience and made Leslie Nielsen an icon of deadpan comedy. His death marks the quiet closing of another chapter in Hollywood’s golden generation of humor.

The news was confirmed by his granddaughter, Stephanie Williams, who shared that her grandfather “lived a full and joyful life surrounded by family and laughter until the end.”Family games

Born in 1926 in San Jose, California, Ed Williams’ journey to the screen was anything but typical. Long before he became a fixture in cult comedy, he served in the U.S. Navy, worked as a radio salesman, and later found his footing in broadcasting. He started as a booth announcer at KCET Television in Los Angeles, back when TV was still in its formative years. Eventually, he transitioned into teaching broadcasting at Los Angeles City College — a career that would span decades and shape countless young communicators.

But Williams’ creative curiosity extended far beyond the classroom. While teaching, he immersed himself in live theater, building a foundation in performance that would serve him well when Hollywood finally came calling. His leap to on-screen acting came later in life, when most people his age were thinking about retirement. It was during the early 1980s that his life took a sharp comedic turn.

In 1982, Williams landed the role of Ted Olsen in the short-lived but legendary television series Police Squad!, created by the team behind Airplane! — David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, and Jerry Zucker. Though the show only lasted six episodes, it became a cult favorite and laid the groundwork for The Naked Gun film trilogy that followed.

As Ted Olsen, Williams embodied the archetype of the well-meaning but absurdly literal scientist — a man who treated nonsense as science and danger as experimentation. His scenes were quick, strange, and hysterically memorable. He introduced gadgets no sane police department would ever authorize: dart-shooting cufflinks, anti-graffiti walls, and a “Swiss Army shoe.”

One of his most beloved lines came when he explained to Leslie Nielsen’s Lt. Frank Drebin, with complete seriousness, “As you know, Frank, billions of years ago, our Earth was a molten mass. But for some reason, not understood by scientists, the Earth cooled, forming a crust, a hard igneous shell. That’s what we scientists call ‘rock.’” The humor wasn’t in the joke — it was in how Williams said it: totally earnest, brilliantly oblivious, and perfectly timed.

Williams reprised the character in The Naked Gun trilogy, released between 1988 and 1994, joining Leslie Nielsen, Priscilla Presley, George Kennedy, and O.J. Simpson in one of comedy’s most enduring franchises. His scenes were often small, but they left lasting impressions — the kind of moments fans still quote decades later.

Yet Williams’ career extended well beyond his collaborations with the ZAZ team. Between 1982 and 2010, he appeared in dozens of television shows, including MacGyver, Matlock, L.A. Law, and The Bold and the Beautiful. On the big screen, audiences might also recognize him as the kindly Reverend in Father of the Bride (1991), where he once again brought his signature warmth and understated wit to the screen.

Interestingly, Williams had a niche for portraying men of the cloth. He played reverends and priests in several productions, including the biographical TV movie I Want to Live, the drama Infidelity, and the romantic comedy Going to the Chapel. While typecast in certain roles, he brought to each one the same sincerity that defined his comedic work — a sincerity that made even the most ridiculous setups feel believable.

In 1993, he ventured into unexpected territory with the sci-fi horror film Carnosaur, a low-budget dinosaur thriller released just weeks before Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park. Williams played Dr. Sterling Raven, a scientist attempting to stop a prehistoric catastrophe. The film earned cult status for its camp value, and Williams’ straight delivery elevated it from forgettable B-movie to enduring oddity.

Williams officially retired from on-screen acting in 2010, following a guest appearance on the medical drama House. But even in his later years, he couldn’t resist returning to performance in some form. Between 2022 and 2023, he participated in Hollywood Radio Players, a digital series that reimagined classic radio dramas for the Zoom era. Friends and collaborators said those performances reignited his love for storytelling.

“Ed was still sharp and funny even in his nineties,” one co-star recalled. “He’d log into Zoom, adjust his camera, and nail the take in one go. He had that perfect balance of old-school professionalism and a twinkle of mischief.”

Outside of Hollywood, Williams was known for his humility and kindness. His former students at L.A. City College remember him not as a celebrity, but as a generous mentor who encouraged them to speak clearly, think critically, and never lose curiosity. Many of those students went on to careers in journalism, film, and broadcasting — a legacy that may well outlast even his most famous screen appearances.

Williams is survived by his wife, Nancy; his sons, Fred and Ian; and his grandchildren, Maureen and Stephanie.

His death comes as another reminder of how few of The Naked Gun’s original stars remain. Leslie Nielsen, who defined the series, died in 2010 of pneumonia. O.J. Simpson passed away from prostate cancer in 2024. George Kennedy died in 2016, and Ricardo Montalbán in 2009. With Williams’ passing, only a handful of supporting cast members are still alive, marking the end of an era for one of the most beloved comedy franchises in film history.

Priscilla Presley, who co-starred in The Naked Gun films, released a statement calling Williams “a kind and endlessly patient man who could make you laugh just by standing still.” Fans echoed those sentiments across social media, sharing clips of his classic scenes and quotes that still resonate today.

For those who grew up on The Naked Gun, Williams’ humor was the glue that held chaos together — the calm in the storm of slapstick. His delivery never begged for attention; it trusted the audience to catch the joke on their own.

In a career that began with microphones, moved to classrooms, and ended in laughter, Ed Williams proved that timing, intelligence, and sincerity are the true tools of comedy. His passing leaves a hole in Hollywood’s heart, but his humor — as sharp and dry as ever — lives on every time someone revisits that world of crime, confusion, and perfectly serious absurdity.

Ed Williams was 98.