From the second we meet Jimmy Akingbola’s Geoffrey in the first episode of Bel-Air, Peacock’s reboot of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, it’s clear this new iteration isn’t the stuffy butler we remember from the ‘90s. Now, dripping in swagger and style with a wad of hundreds in his pocket, the “house manager” is the person the Banks family shares their darkest secrets with and asks to handle their requests, no matter how shady, illegal or dangerous.
These darker changes track with the overall vibe of the new show. Yes, Bel-Air is still a fish-out-of-water story in which Will (Jabari Banks) leaves West Philly after a dangerous run-in with a local gang to live with the uber-wealthy Banks family—Aunt Viv, Uncle Phil, Carlton, Hillary and Ashley—in Bel-Air. But this new rendition has dialed up the drama and turned down the laugh track to explore themes including race, class, sexual orientation, violence, and general trauma.
Second only to the show’s new take on Carlton—who snorts coke and Xanax and has struggles with anxiety and anger —in embodying this bold change in tone is the Nigerian-British Akingbola’s Geoffrey, to whom he brings his own East London upbringing and charm.
Throughout the show’s first season, which concludes this week, we’ve seen how loyal and discreet Geoffrey can be when deliciously channeling his inner Olivia Pope. (He may have ordered the hit of a gang banger who wanted to kill Will.) But Geoffrey also isn’t afraid to stand up to Uncle Phil, even if that means getting fired for helping Will find his estranged father behind Phil and Aunt Viv’s back. This defiant act has serious consequences not just for Will but for the entire Banks family.
GQ sat down with Akingbola to discuss the pressure of revisiting a beloved classic, why his Geoffrey loves to rock colorful suits, and the importance of Bel-Air giving Black men and boys space to be vulnerable.
Were you ever worried that the show might not land with folks who were either reboot-fatigued or protective of the original?
There was [only] a tiny bit of concern on my end, but I also understood people’s initial concerns. I grew up on Fresh Prince. We all did. It’s a delicate piece of I.P., but what made me mostly walk without fear was knowing the show was made with love and respect. The only way to do this show was to make it an hour-long drama and not a sitcom. Yes, it’s a grittier drama that deals with real-life issues and hurdles the characters have to overcome; there’s a nice balance of love, joy and inspiration.
But in the beginning, I could tell that people don’t read [laughs]. They just saw the Deadline headline and didn’t get what we were trying to do or were expecting a certain type of show. But once people watched the first episode or even saw the trailer, I knew they would change their minds.
We have to talk about what’s happening between Geoffrey and Uncle Phil. In episode nine, he fired you after you went behind his back and found Will’s father.
Man, it was heartbreaking because what we’ve done with this version is, Jeffrey and Uncle Phil are like brothers—they go way back. Adrian [Holmes, who plays Uncle Phil] and I just met on the job, but there’s such a strong bond between us, so playing those confrontation scenes and seeing that split, it felt like a real element of our friendship was breaking. It was emotional and we went there as actors, but it showed the type of man Geoffrey is. Yes, he’s a man of his word, and if you ask him to do something, he gets it done, but he is also prepared to put himself on the line for what he believes, even if it goes against what Phil wants. Now, Geoffrey has set this all up, and everyone has to take a step back. It’s going to be interesting to see the ripple effects that it has on the family.
You’re not in the finale, yet everything Geoffrey has set in motion is felt throughout the entire episode.
Geoffrey’s always there even when he’s not. [The rest of the characters] are definitely asking, “Where is Geoffrey?” I don’t know how much I can say about where he is, but when he gets fired, we get a bit of a chuckle from Geoffrey, like he knows that was going to happen because he knows Phil. And he knows he can’t do something like that again and come back from that. This is the last step between us.
The last step for now, because you’re coming back for season two, right?
I got no comment [laughs]. Maybe you might see Geoffrey again. Who knows?
You recently tweeted a picture of yourself and Joseph Marcell, the original Geoffrey, from when he played your father on an episode of the BBC show Death In Paradise. One, how serendipitous, and two, did he give you any advice on playing the character?
It’s funny because I forgot to send them that picture in my slate when I was auditioning. I might have sent it in a second slate, but no one saw it, because when I told Morgan [Cooper, the creator and director of Bel-Air] about it, he had no idea. He freaked out: “What is this picture?” When I got the job, I wanted to tell Joe right away, but Peacock was very serious about that NDA, and I couldn’t say anything until they publicly released the cast. But when I could, I called Joe, and he told me, “Congratulations! We’re all happy for you, and you’re going to be fantastic.” I got quite emotional, actually.
Later, we connected in L.A. and had a lovely dinner where he gave me a lot of advice, which included just enjoying being the Brit on the show and owning that and letting my work speak for itself. When I see all the love on Twitter and Instagram—and I see all of it, sometimes I even blush—I truly feel like Joseph manifested that for me.
This rendition of Geoffrey is radically different. He isn’t a butler trained in the Royal Palace, and he’s not calling anyone “Master” anything. Why was that important?
In those early conversations with Morgan, he told me they weren’t doing the old version, so forget that. Morgan and Bel-Air’s showrunners T.J. Brady and Rasheed Newson always had a clear vision, and this Geoffrey was going to represent the Black diaspora. This Geoffrey is from East London, so he moves a different way and talks a different way. He’s not a stereotype. He’s multilayered. He’s street smart and book smart. Comfortable in the office and in the streets. Prior storytelling wouldn’t let someone like Geoffrey have all that, which is why I love this show. As someone who grew up in East London, I’ve been around men like him.
Now, some things haven’t changed. If you check the original, Geoffry looked at the Banks children as his nieces and nephews and Phil and Viv as his family. That was one of the aspects we wanted to make sure stayed in our version.
Let’s get into Geoffrey’s style. Goodbye to those drab, ill-fitting butler uniforms and hello to colorful suits that are tailored to the gods!
From the beginning, Morgan was clear: We want Geoffrey to have this London swagger. I was like, “Really? OK, let’s go!” I talked about being a Brit in L.A and just British style, which is quite different than here. If you go to a Zara in L.A., I don’t recognize any of these clothes because, in London, Zara is different. We also talked about British brands like Paul Smith, Hugo Boss, and Ozwald Boateng and color because, as you know, I am a beautiful dark-skinned brotha’ and I wanted to bring in some color to complement his skin. Oh, and everything had to be fitted in place because he’s a detail man and represents Black excellence.
Most importantly, his style puts him on par with Uncle Phil—they are equals, like brothers and companions. And their clothes complement one another. Plus, we look good together on screen.
Bel-Air turns expectations on their head. The West Philly hood isn’t presented in a stereotypical way , and outside of the threat of gang violence, Will has a beautiful life, a promising future, and people who love him. On the flip side, Bel-Air, with all that money and proximity to whiteness, comes with a cost. Carlton is out there snorting coke to cope and letting his white friends use the N-word around him.
The show reminds us that there’s no perfect place and that there’s the yin and yang to each city. I love that we see Will’s life back at home, outside the opening credits from the original. And also love that we explore the idea that there’s a different kind of danger at an elite private school, especially being one of few Black people in those spaces. As we see, Cartlon is struggling. My favorite line is when Hilary says, “Carlton’s the Jackie Robinson of lacrosse.” Here’s this representation of being a minority excelling and being isolated from his “people.”
That’s why I love the locker scene from the first episode. We watched that with an audience, and everyone was enjoying the show, laughing at his dancing, and we could hear what they were saying: “Oh, what is going on?” Some people were definitely on Will’s side [of not letting white people say that word ever], then Carlton comes back [asking why rappers can use it but white people can’t]. People could see where he was coming from. While I personally never use the word, these conversations are important to have, and we need more of them.
Whether it’s seeing Carlton’s struggle with mental health and addiction or Will and Trey’s relationship when they tell each other they love and miss each other, Bel-Air allows Black boys to be vulnerable and tender. Just seeing them crying on screen is so rare for television.
Once again, that’s all Rasheed, T.J., and Morgan, who address these issues in such a delicate and loving way. I think that it’s brave to shine such a positive light on vulnerability—and it’s not just the boys but the men on the show as well. There is no such thing as a perfect person. We’re not always angry, but we are human and have flaws and issues to work through. The show reflects how people deal with their issues and emotions differently.