Billy Drago was born William Eugene Burrows in Hugoton, Kansas, on November 30, 1945, to parents William and Gladys Burrows. His ancestry traced back to Roma immigrants and Native American Apache heritage, a background that would later inform the menacing screen presence he cultivated. Before ever stepping before a camera, he worked as a stunt double in Dodge City and attended the University of Kansas. He adopted the stage name Drago and, after college, spent time as a radio host before joining theater companies in Canada and New York City.

His acting career began in earnest in 1979 with a role in the miniseries The Long Journey and films such as Cutter’s Way and No Other Love. From there, he became a familiar face on American television, appearing as a guest actor on series like Hardcastle and McCormick and Trapper John, M. D. These early roles established a pattern that would define his entire career: Drago was not cast as the hero.
He was cast as the threat. Drago’s feature film work in the late 1980s and early 1990s solidified his reputation. He appeared in Tremors 4: The Legend Begins and Delta Force 2: The Colombian Connection, but it was his role in Brian De Palma’s The Untouchables that introduced him to a wider audience. In the 1987 film, Drago played a fictionalized version of gangster Frank Nitti, sharing the screen with Kevin Costner and Sean Connery.
His portrayal was chilling in its quiet intensity, marking him as one of the most effective villains of the era. In 2001, he made a guest appearance in Michael Jackson’s music video You Rock My World. On television, his most successful recurring role came as Barbas, the demon, in the supernatural series Charmed. The character was originally intended for a single episode, but his popularity prompted the writers to bring him back for six total appearances.
He also took roles in Mad Dog Time and the 2006 remake of The Hills Have Eyes. In The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. , Drago played John Bly, the leader of the outlaw gang known as the Brisco County killers. Despite the promise of the series, it was canceled after only one season.
He later appeared alongside Udo Kier, David Carradine, and Norman Reedus in Paul Sampson’s blend of comedy, drama, and action, The Temple. Throughout his career, Drago developed a peculiar point of pride. He often boasted about the distinguished company of those who killed his characters on screen. Clint Eastwood shot him dead in Pale Rider.
Kevin Costner threw him off a rooftop in The Untouchables. Chuck Norris watched him fall to his death from a helicopter in Delta Force 2: The Colombian Connection. With his crawling stare, his threatening voice, and an unmistakably villainous bearing, he seemed destined for these brutal endings. He made it clear that playing the bad guy was not a compromise but a preference.
As he once said, he would never be the boy next door, and that was not what he wanted to be. In his personal life, Drago was married to actress Silvana Gallardo from 1980 until her death in 2012. Their son, Darren E. Burrows, also became an actor.
On June 24, 2019, Billy Drago died of cancer at the age of 73. His career left behind a particular kind of legacy. In an industry that often struggles to make audiences hate its villains convincingly, Drago did it with unmistakable ease. He was not the lead, and he was not the romantic interest.
He was the reason the hero had to fight. Every sneer, every measured step, every line delivered in that low, deliberate tone served a single purpose: to make the audience uneasy. The roles themselves ranged widely, from westerns to crime dramas to supernatural television. But the through-line was consistent.
Whether he was a gunman in a Western, a mob enforcer in Prohibition-era Chicago, or a demon haunting the Halliwell sisters, Drago played characters who existed to be defeated. He understood that dynamic better than most. The actor who dies on screen is often the one who makes the hero’s victory meaningful. A hero is only as compelling as the danger he overcomes, and Drago made that danger feel real.
This understanding of genre and audience expectation allowed him to work steadily for four decades. He appeared in low-budget genre films and major studio productions alike. He moved between television and cinema without concern for prestige, taking roles that suited his particular strengths. His willingness to embrace the villain archetype made him a dependable presence for directors who needed a character the audience would immediately distrust.
His death at 73 closed a chapter in Hollywood history. But the characters he played remain part of the cultural landscape. When viewers revisit The Untouchables and watch Nitti meet his end at the hands of Costner’s Eliot Ness, they are watching Drago at the height of his craft. When they watch Pale Rider and see the gunman fall to Eastwood’s mysterious preacher, they are seeing the kind of performance that made Westerns feel dangerous again.
Billy Drago built a career out of being the man the audience loved to hate. He approached the work with evident enjoyment, and his performances carried a theatrical menace that few actors could match. He was not a leading man, and he never pretended to be one.
He was something rarer: a character actor who understood exactly what his characters were for.