Luis Brandoni has died: farewell to a master of acting who taught without giving classes, with talent, commitment, skill, dignity, and dedication until the very last minute

He was 86 years old and had over 60 years of experience, spread across theater, film, television, and streaming.

He was starring in the play "¿Quién es quién?" alongside Soledad Silveyra and preparing for the second season of "Nada," a series that became a phenomenon on Disney+.

A tribute to a gentleman who left a mark in fiction and reality.

He was hospitalized for a week after a fall at home that caused a cerebral hematoma.

Luis Brandoni has died: farewell to a master of acting who taught without giving classes, with talent, commitment, skill, dignity, and dedication until the very last minute. Brandoni had two daughters, four grandchildren, and several projects lined up. At 85, he was still aiming for more. 

It was the second performance on a Saturday just a few weeks ago, and he was up on stage giving his all. He looked fragile – he had been hospitalized earlier this year – but at the same time, he seemed to whisper, "trust me." And those of us sitting in the theater at the Multitabarís, watching him alongside Soledad Silveyra in "¿Quién es quién?", sensed that Luis Brandoni would be able to make it to the end of the performance, even if the lines fell into the air and his movements were slow. And he did. And the whole room stood up. That was Beto, a man who fought against anything with courage and dignity, even against the deterioration that sometimes comes with the passage of time. This Monday, he lost his final battle. He had just turned 86 years old, and his path was carved with talent and commitment.

He was one of a kind. A versatile actor who made his characters the best they could be, all believable creatures. Many of them made people laugh, others brought tears, some did both, others made you think, and some did all three.

Luis Brandoni, iconic Argentine actor, has died at 86 years old

Cornered by various health problems, on Saturday, April 11, he fell at home and had to be hospitalized. Although media rumors suggested a stroke, his family and work associates quickly clarified that it was not a cerebrovascular accident after medical tests.

The fall caused him to hit his head, which resulted in a cerebral hematoma, so he remained hospitalized to assess his progress. He fought for a week. He couldn’t fight any longer.

Soledad Silveyra and Beto Brandoni in "¿Quién es quién?", the play they were successfully starring in at the Multitabarís.

As soon as he was hospitalized, the theater producer and close friend of the actor, Carlos Rottemberg, quickly clarified that it was "a hematoma from the blow itself, which must be monitored until its absorption (...) This now adds a few days for evaluation and recovery in the hospital. That’s why the season has been on hold since Friday," he explained on his X account, Multiteatro.

Brandoni was in a relationship with screenwriter and director Saula Benavente and had two daughters from his marriage to actress Marta Bianchi. Trained at the National Conservatory of Music and Dramatic Art, he had been acting since he was 20 and never wanted to stop working. But it’s well known that wanting and being able to do are not always the same. The prohibitions during the last military dictatorship also reached him, as they did many of his generation, like Carlos Carella and Héctor Alterio, among others.

Additionally, he and his family were forced to exile in Mexico in 1974 due to threats from the Triple A. The following year, they dared to return. Resisting was a verb he knew how to exalt.

A present far from retirement and a past intertwined with politics and acting

At 86 – which he turned this Saturday – he was still going for more: not only was he starring in that hit on Corrientes Street with Soledad – the performance for the weekend had already been canceled because she was not feeling well – but he was also planning his schedule for the recording of the second season of "Nada," the Disney+ series in which he shared the screen and scenes with Robert De Niro.

Luis Brandoni and Eduardo Blanco in the film version of "Parque Lezama," available on Netflix.

He was also enjoying the feedback from those who appreciated the film adaptation of "Parque Lezama," directed by Juan José Campanella, which has been available on Netflix since early March. There, he went head-to-head with Eduardo Blanco, achieving a brilliant tie performance, and renewed the success they had together on stage with that same story.

Beto, as his friends and family affectionately called him, turned 86 last Saturday. He was born on April 18, 1940, in Dock Sud and was registered as Adalberto Luis Brandoni, hence the colloquial "Beto." At 13, his family moved to Núñez, an ideal neighborhood for showing off the colors inherited from his father, among other legacies.

A River Plate fan since childhood, he dreamed of being a football player, but gradually hung up his worn-out boots from the field. And every Sunday at noon, he never missed going to the stadium to enjoy the magic of his first idol, the one he remembered in various interviews with the chant, "The people, the people, the people no longer eat to see Walter Gómez." The memory of the Uruguayan forward would bring tears to his eyes, making those blue eyes even more endearing. Besides everything, Brandoni was one who held his gaze, always, and if necessary, would move closer to his interlocutor to emphasize what he was saying: whether it was a loving return or a powerful phrase.

Héctor Alterio and Luis Brandoni in "La Tregua" (1974), a national cinema emblem.

From a humble family, he knew as a teenager that he wanted to be an actor. He trained and made his theater debut in 1962, a year before appearing for the first time on television, where he starred in successes like "Mi cuñado," alongside Ricardo Darín, in the remake of that television classic created by Osvaldo Miranda and Ernesto Bianco in 1976.

He served as the General Secretary of the Argentine Association of Actors from 1974 to 1983. A member of the Radical Civic Union (UCR), in 1997 he was elected a National Deputy for the Province of Buenos Aires. In 2005, he was part of the UCR list as a senatorial candidate for Buenos Aires in the legislative elections. The formula obtained 8.04% of the votes and came in fourth place, so he could not access the seat.

In 2007, in the gubernatorial elections for the Province of Buenos Aires, he was part of the formula as Ricardo Alfonsín's vice in the UCR list. In 2021, he was a pre-candidate for national deputy for the Autonomous City of Buenos Aires, joining the "Adelante Ciudad" list of Juntos por el Cambio. And in 2023, he was elected a parliamentarian of Mercosur in Argentina's Parlasur elections.

Brandoni had to exile in Mexico due to threats from the Triple A, was later banned by the dictatorship, but never gave up.

In terms of his artistic career, he divided his time between TV, film, and theater. On the big screen, he starred in both comedies and dramas, many of which made a deep impact with delicate stories, such as "La tregua" and "La patagonia rebelde" (1974), "Darse cuenta" (1984), "Tute Cabrero" (1968), and "Made in Argentina" (1987).

The film comedy had him as the star in collection pieces like "Esperando la carroza" (1985 and how could we forget his "three empanadas"), "El cuento de las comadrejas" (2019), and "Cien veces no debo" (1990). In total, he worked in 62 films, almost all of them box office hits.

The scene turned into a meme: Brandoni's "three empanadas" in "Esperando la carroza."

And television reached new heights with his performances in "Mi cuñado," "Buscavidas," "Un gallo para Esculapio," "La bonita página," in more than 55 titles where his enviable gestural mask allowed him to roam various genres, from classic comedies like "Mi cuñado" to the darkness of Conurbano in the skin of Esculapio, who was killed at the end of the first season—a questionable decision. A rooster without Esculapio is not the same as a story with Brandoni.

The theater also had him on stage with classic plays and more commercial works. His name was, as they say in the artistic circuit, "a box office draw." How many times have we heard someone in line for one of his plays say, "I want two tickets for Brandoni’s"?

Brandoni and Darín, a winning formula for the remake of "Mi cuñado."

Some of his quotes

"Do you know what happens? I was fortunate to be able to play in the street without danger; the street was the block, and the outlying areas were the neighborhood. Mom would whistle from the kitchen window and I would go for milk," he told Clarín in an interview ten years ago, under a jacaranda tree in Plaza San Martín, close to his apartment.

-If we look back, what do you see? (this journalist asked him that time)

-I see a boy who wasn't a star on the field, but chased every ball. I see a boy glued to the radio. I listened to everything—questions and answers, theater shows, comedy programs that aired in prime time with Fidel Pintos, Niní Marshall, Pepe Iglesias, Luis Sandrini, and the radio dramas... You see? I’ve done everything in life, but I wish I had done radio drama. It’s a genre I’ve always liked. I believe there needs to be a bit of fiction on the radio, and I’m sure people would embrace it. It would be a wonderful respite amidst this frenzy of news.

Among his possessions was the "recited album, Tangos dichos, with titles like Mi noche triste and Fangal."

Friends and colleagues: Brandoni and De Niro in "Nada," the Disney+ series, born from the creative minds of Mariano Cohn and Gastón Duprat.

Until the pre-pandemic days, he was not seen working in streaming: "I feel that series are not for me. I come from the era of traditional media, watching a movie in the cinema and watching a program at a specific time," he told Clarin seven years ago.

Without fiction on TV and with that capacity for adaptation he had so that "the machine of making does not stop," he created "Nada," a ratings hit and, at the same time, a paradox for a man who had done it all in 85 years.