There is a specific kind of triumph in an actor performing a role so fundamentally unpleasant that you find yourself actively detesting them on screen! It is the ultimate testament to their craft. I’ve been catching up on Season 2 of Paradise, and it hit me just how incredibly good Julianne Nicholson is at her job - precisely because her character, a nasty, deeply unattractive, wealthy woman, is so utterly intolerable.
It got me thinking about her career, because the woman anchoring the high-stakes tension of Paradise couldn’t be further removed from the character that first made me fall in love with her work: the chirpy, spunky, cheerful, naive and fiercely emotional Jenny Shaw in Ally McBeal! Back in the early 2000s, Jenny Shaw was the kind of character everyone rooted for. She wore her heart on her sleeve, radiating an infectious, youthful optimism that balanced out the show's trademark eccentricities. If you had told me then that the same actress would one day masterfully portray characters defined by cold cynicism or deep, tragic weariness, I might have been skeptical.
But looking back at her filmography over the last couple of decades, the signs of a chameleon were always there. I’ve watched her pop up in an incredibly diverse array of projects and she never fails to leave a mark. In Kinsey (2004) she navigated complex mid-century dynamics; in Staten Island (2009) she anchored a gritty indie crime-drama and by the time she appeared in major features like I, Tonya (2017) and the Marilyn Monroe reimagining Blonde (2022), it became clear that Hollywood knew exactly who to call when a script demanded authentic, unfiltered human emotion.
Two of her roles, in particular, stood out enough for me to write about them extensively here on the blog. In my review of Novitiate (2017), she was superb as Nora Harris, a non-religious mother fighting to understand her daughter's sudden, intense devotion to the church. Then there was her quiet, magnetic performance in Janet Planet (2023), where she played a bohemian mother viewed through the hyper-observant eyes of her eleven-year-old daughter. In both instances, Nicholson avoided flashy, Oscar-bait histrionics, choosing instead to let the character’s internal conflict simmer just below the surface.
Of course, you can't talk about her dramatic weight without mentioning her Emmy-winning turn as Lori Ross in Mare of Easttown (2021). As the fiercely loyal, quietly suffering best friend to Kate Winslet's Mare, Nicholson delivered a performance that was absolutely heartbreaking. The sheer exhaustion and tragic resilience she brought to that role showed an actress operating at the absolute peak of her powers.
Which brings us right back to Paradise. Truth be told, if I’m picking favourites, I much prefer her when she’s playing characters with the warmth and spark of Jenny Shaw. There's a natural, grounded light to Nicholson that is incredibly comforting to watch. But watching her inhabit this latest role - shedding every ounce of that natural warmth to play someone so thoroughly unlikable - is a stark reminder of what true acting range looks like. She doesn't rely on prosthetics or vocal gimmicks to transform; she alters her internal temperature. When an actor can move seamlessly from the bright-eyed optimism of 90s television to the heavy, complicated textures of modern peak TV, you aren't just watching a reliable character actress. You’re watching one of the best in the business.
Julianne Nicholson's official promotional portrait for Ally McBeal (Season 5).. Source: Ally McBeal Wiki - Fandom
Julianne Nicholson's official promotional portrait for Ally McBeal (Season 5).. Source: Ally McBeal Wiki - Fandom
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