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Meanwhile, Olmos had been getting a reputation for inflexibility, an actor who tended to ruffle feathers on the set. During a Kojak appearance, his reluctance to say a line he did not think believable prompted Telly Savalas to call him a "prima donna." This intractability came to the fore when Producer Michael Mann called Olmos in 1984 and asked him to take the role of Lieut. Martin Castillo on a new show called Miami Vice. "I told him I couldn't do it," recalls Olmos. "It wasn't that I didn't need it. As it was, my wife and I couldn't go out to dinner or to shows. But I didn't want to tie myself down." Mann called back three more times. "He kept increasing the offer," says Olmos, "promising more money than I'd made in a lifetime for one year's work." On the fifth call Olmos accepted, but only after he had won creative control of the character and the option to do outside work.
It took several episodes of Vice before Castillo, a taciturn cop with a painful past, caught on with viewers. "When we ran The Golden Triangle -- the 13th show -- my character went through the roof," Olmos says. "People started to understand that this was a man who had suffered. A man who has been wounded. And they began to realize why he was that way." In 1985 the increasingly visible star walked off with an Emmy for Best Supporting Actor in a drama series and the next year won a Golden Globe as well. Though he has no plans to quit Vice, he agrees with critics who say that the quality of the scripts has deteriorated. Says he: "The show was victimized by its success."
There are those who fear that the same fate could eventually befall Olmos, that he is simply spreading himself too thin. The actor's tendency to put himself on the line -- both on the set and on the street -- is motivated by a feeling that he has to maintain his personal code of honor in a corrupt world. Olmos locked horns with Director Menendez on the set of Stand and Deliver by insisting that the film be accurate to the Escalante story in every respect. Moreover, the echoes of Miami Vice keep recurring in his personal and professional life. Like Lieut. Castillo, Olmos has always wrestled with the ninja in himself, walking the thin line between dedication and self-denial, success and prideful penury. "You have to be able to say no to fame and fortune, before you receive it, to be able to say no again when you get older," he states in Castillo's stern monotone. "If not, you won't have the strength and the courage to do it. The intent must be pure."
"Success, much more than failure, really bounces you around," observes Bower, who has known Olmos since 1981. "Eddie's still trying to find a way to balance his time and priorities, giving back to his family in ways that aren't frivolous." One of those ways is by spending as much time as possible with Kaija, 38, and his sons, now twelve and 15, at the island house they own off the coast of Florida and at their recently purchased ranch-style home in Encino, Calif. Though both boys have had small featured roles in their dad's movies, Olmos takes great pains to keep them out of the celebrity spotlight. "Everyone could always do better," Olmos says. "But I think I spend a good deal of time with my kids. I think I'm a good father."