Mary Birdsong Of Reno 911 On The Five Things You Need To Create A Highly Successful Career In TV & Film

…Embrace Who You Are: I wish someone had told me to embrace who I really am. I love playing different characters, but when I started out, I had this fantasy of leaving my small town and becoming someone fancy in the big city. But guess what? They don’t want fancy people — they want real people who bring their own experiences. All those folks you grew up with, those places you might think are boring, they’re what make you unique. Use that. Bring your hometown, your family, and your quirks with you. That’s what makes you stand out. I spent a lot of time running away from that, but now I’ve come to appreciate it. Your life, how you were raised — it’s all your material, your Play-Doh®. So don’t be ashamed of where you come from because there’s a show out there that needs exactly that…

I had the pleasure of talking with Mary Birdsong, an actress, comedian, writer, and singer. Widely recognized for her work in television, film, and theater, Birdsong is best known for her role as Deputy Cherisha Kimball on the satirical police comedy Reno 911! Her multifaceted career, spanning over two decades, reflects her versatility and talent in both comedic and dramatic roles.

Raised in the small community of Long Beach Island, New Jersey, Birdsong grew up in a family of three sisters & one brother. The quiet, close-knit nature of her hometown and the influence of her Southern family roots, particularly her mother, played a significant role in shaping her artistic inclinations. Despite a childhood marked by painful shyness, Birdsong found an outlet for her creativity through acting, a passion she discovered almost accidentally in high school.

Birdsong pursued her interest in acting at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, where she earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting. During her time at NYU, she was awarded the Stella Adler Award for Outstanding Achievement in Acting, a testament to her early promise as a performer. After graduation, she remained in New York City, immersing herself in the city’s vibrant theater scene while steadily working to establish herself in the industry.

Birdsong’s on-screen debut came in a 1996 sketch comedy TV pilot for NBC called Live On Tape, which showcased her talent for creating memorable characters. However, it was her role as Deputy Cherisha Kimball on Reno 911! from 2005 to 2007, and later during the show’s revival from 2020 to 2022, that catapulted her to wider recognition. The series, known for its improvisational style and satirical humor, allowed Birdsong to exhibit her comedic prowess alongside a cast of seasoned comedians. Her portrayal of the overzealous, rookie deputy became a fan favorite, earning her a lasting place in the annals of television comedy.

In addition to Reno 911!, Birdsong has appeared in a variety of other television shows and films. She played the role of Nancy McDonald in Rob Zombie’s horror film Halloween II (2009) and appeared alongside George Clooney in Alexander Payne’s critically acclaimed drama The Descendants (2011), where she portrayed Kai Mitchell. These roles, along with her performance in the stoner comedy High School (2010), demonstrated her ability to shift seamlessly between genres, from horror to drama to comedy.

Birdsong’s television credits are extensive, including guest appearances on shows like Succession, where she played Marianne Hirsch, the mother of Greg Hirsch and niece of family patriarch Logan Roy. She was also a Daily Show correspondent. Her work in voice acting is equally notable, with roles in animated series such as Beavis & Butthead, Goldie and Bear, Harvey Birdman: Attorney At Law, and Tak & the Power of Juju. She also lent her voice to the popular video game Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.

On stage, Birdsong has had a successful career in both Broadway and off-Broadway productions. Her Broadway debut came in the 2006 musical Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me, where her performance earned her a Theatre World Award. She later joined the cast of Hairspray on Broadway, playing the role of Velma Von Tussle, the bigoted and ambitious stage mother. Birdsong’s talent for live performance is also evident in her one-woman shows, such as 3 Days in the Tub: A Mama Drama and Judy Speaks, the latter highlighting her well-known impression of Judy Garland.

Throughout her career, Birdsong has consistently displayed a deep commitment to her craft, whether on stage, screen, or behind the scenes as a writer and creator. Her ability to inhabit a wide range of characters, from the comedic to the dramatic, has made her a respected figure in the entertainment industry. Birdsong’s journey, from a shy child on a small New Jersey island to a versatile and accomplished performer, underscores her resilience and passion for the arts.

As of recent years, Birdsong continues to work on new projects. Later this month you can see her in Hulu’s new limited series, “Natalia,” (starring Mark Duplass and Ellen Pompeo) playing the recurring role of Sandy Mosley. The series is based on a true story featured in the Netflix documentary series “The Curious Case of Natalia Grace.” She’s also writing an animated feature film, while remaining an active presence in both the theater and television worlds. Her contributions to the entertainment industry, marked by a unique blend of humor and humanity, have solidified her as a beloved and enduring figure in American comedy and drama.

Yitzi: It’s an honor to meet you. Before we dive in deep, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share the story of your childhood and how you grew up?

Mary: I was born in Florida, but from the age of two onward, I was raised in South Jersey, in the very small Jersey Shore community of Long Beach Island; a tiny strip of land, a sandbar really. For nine months of the year, there were no traffic lights, and there wasn’t a high school or junior high school on the island. You had to go over the bridge to the mainland to join the big kids.

Both sides of my family are from the South — Louisiana and Mississippi — so that was a big influence on me. My mother was kind of a Blanche Dubois figure, like something out of Tennessee Williams — a fallen Southern Belle, but in South Jersey, with a pack of cigarettes, working at Walmart. She was very much a fish out of water, a fragile, delicate woman who seemed like she was from another era. She was romantic, a poet, very dramatic. But nobody else in my family was a performer or artist of any kind professionally, except for my cousin David A. Kimball. He seemed very exotic and mysterious to me. He lives here in Hollywood, and it’s cool that I get to go over there for dinner sometimes. He plays a mean blues guitar.

As a kid, I was painfully shy — I still am. People tend not to believe that, but a lot of my extraversion, performing, or entertaining is really just a way to overcome that shyness. If I can make you laugh, then I’m doing all right. I was so shy as a kid that I just wanted to stay home with my mom. I was terrified of school and was absent all the time. I didn’t want to hang out with the other kids; I just wanted to sit in the corner and listen to the grown-ups. I was just cripplingly shy.

In ninth grade, my best friend talked me into auditioning for a play. I had no aspirations of performing at all, but she said, “You make a lot of funny faces, and you talk in weird accents. Maybe you should think about doing that.” I thought she was crazy. I had this mindset that actors in tv shows & movies came from some exotic island, and certainly not the one I lived on. Where I grew up, I figured I’d be lucky if I even got to clean the houses of TV stars. But my friend convinced me I should try, and I really loved it. It was a way out of the shyness, as I said. I was lucky to have teachers who encouraged me, too, because I still didn’t take it seriously. I certainly wasn’t going to study acting at college.

But through a crazy series of circumstances, I ended up at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, studying theater, and I fell in love with New York City. It was the complete opposite of where I grew up. The anonymity of being surrounded by people while still being anonymous really appealed to me. I wanted to be alone, but NOT alone at the same time. And you can get that in the city.

I stayed in New York City after graduating from NYU, and it took me a solid 10 years to even get an agent. I was constantly performing, doing sketch comedy, improv, and writing shows, too. My first love was musical theater — I just wanted to be in Les Mis on Broadway. That was my dream. But I didn’t quite fit in with that crowd. I didn’t sing like the other girls, and I didn’t seem to look like the other girls. I didn’t want to play the ingenues; I always wanted to play the real nasty and eccentric characters. I pursued that path heavily, really trying to break in, but I couldn’t crack that nut.

Then I took a detour into improv and sketch comedy at what used to be Groundlings East, which later became Gotham City Improv in New York City. I loved improv and sketch comedy, especially the social aspect of it. I’m still close with the people I did sketch comedy and improv with in the mid-90s. It served me well; sketch comedy and improv are still my favorite things to do.

Through another series of crazy events, I ended up being cast in a sketch comedy tv pilot for NBC. And after a lot of other TV shows, pilots, and films, I still feel like I have to pinch myself that I’m not waiting tables, which I did for many years, along with cleaning houses and all the things we do to get by. It’s tough out there right now; the business is very scary. But when I’d try to think of something else I could do, I realized that even if I wasn’t doing this professionally, I’d still be doing it every day. It’s just my nature to disappear into other people, even if they’re just in my head. So, I guess that covers most of it.

Yitzi: I’m just curious — do you know the origin of your last name? It’s very beautiful.

Mary: Thank you! It’s actually my dad’s last name, Birdsong. His ancestors on that side were German, and it was originally something like Vogelsang or Vogelgesang. A lot of people think it’s Native American, but it’s not, although that would be cool. I do have Native American ancestry, but the name itself is German. I really love it now, but I hated it when I was in third grade.

Yitzi: You probably have so many interesting stories from all the various parts of your career. Can you share with our readers one or two of your favorite memories, favorite anecdotes from your professional life?

Mary: Oh, wow. There are so many. I’m really lucky. I was just saying to a friend that certain memories from my career feel like they happened six lifetimes ago. But at the same time, it’s still me, still the same person.

One of my favorite memories, just because it’s so rare that it happens, was when I was living in New York City. Most of my life, I’ve lived in New York, and you audition for different things all the time (if you’re lucky, that is). I remember auditioning for a movie where they asked me to put myself on tape, which was unusual back then. I remember reading the character description and telling my agent and manager, “I’m not going to audition for this. They’re not going to cast me. They’re looking for a beautiful, exotic model or something. This is not a part they’re going to cast Mary Birdsong in.” But she insisted, so I was like, “Fine, fine.”

I had a date with a guy that night who was an actor, and I thought maybe I could ask him to help me with my “self-tape.” It gave me an excuse to hang out with him in my apartment. He was a really good actor, so he helped me with the audition. I did it, and then just forgot about it because I was sure nothing would come of it. But then I got a callback, and the movie was The Descendants, the Alexander Payne film that went on to win Oscars, with George Clooney starring in it. My character had scenes with him.

I went to the callback, and Alexander Payne was in the room. I had to do the scenes again, which involved crying and was very emotional. At the end, he said very simply: “You’re a really good actor.” And I thought “Oh great. That’s what they say when they’re not going to cast you.” That was the kiss of death! So again, I just forgot about it, because in this business, you learn to assume you didn’t get the part unless you hear otherwise. If you don’t learn to do that, you’ll go insane.

I don’t remember exactly how much time passed, but it was maybe a few months later. It was nighttime, and I was walking down Third Avenue in New York City, carrying all these bags in the rain. I was tired and heading to the gym or something when my agent called to tell me I’d gotten the part — they cast me as Kai Mitchell in The Descendants. The best part was when she said, “Mary, I want you to know that Alexander Payne has final approval on casting. You were his first choice.” Who hears that? I started jumping up and down right there on the street. I had to call her the next day to confirm, like, “Did you really say that I, like, got it, got it? It’s done? That wasn’t a mistake?”

There was a security guard inside one of those big corporate buildings with glass walls, and he was looking at me like I needed to go back to the institution because I was just jumping up and down on Third Avenue by myself with all these bags. It’s great to even say it out loud to you because sometimes I forget it happened. It was just such an interesting choice on his part, too, because that storyline involved so much tragedy. I think he was wise to cast it with as many comedy people as possible because when we’re in the midst of grief, we need a break from all the tears.

It’s just a really fond memory — how sometimes, good things happen when you least expect them. You just never know.

Yitzi: It’s been said that sometimes our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Do you have a story about a humorous mistake that happened when you first started and the lesson you learned from it?

Mary: Oh, wow. That’s a great question. A humorous mistake… two things come to mind. One might not exactly count, but it’s still a good story. I was supposed to audition for a musical that I eventually did on Broadway with Martin Short called Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me. They wanted me to do six different characters and a couple of scenes. A bunch of people kept telling me, “You have to do Judy Garland as one of your characters!” But I was like, “Nah, it’s too obvious, too on the nose. They’re not going to want to see Judy.” I had no idea that Marty was obsessed with Judy Garland. The composer, Marc Shaiman, and Scott Wittman, were also huge fans. I didn’t know any of this, so I didn’t prepare anything Judy Garland-related for the audition.

I almost didn’t go to the audition at all because I thought I was too right for the part, which freaked me out. I was like, “If I don’t get this, then I must be really awful because it basically says ‘Seeking Mary Birdsong.’” So I went in and did all the characters I had prepared, and it was okay. But then they said, “Mary, do some Judy.” Of course, the one thing I didn’t prepare was exactly what they wanted to see. They already had a piece in the show that involved Judy Garland, and I had no idea. I found out much later that Marc and Scott had seen me perform as Judy Garland in a one-night-only show with Jackie Hoffman in downtown New York. It was one of those magical nights that came and went, but it’s one of my all-time favorite memories of performing. I pretended I was doing Judy Garland’s Christmas special, and even though I was terrified, the love and joy I received that night were just incredible. That’s the kind of stuff you get addicted to.

Marc and Scott were in the audience that night, and I didn’t even know who they were at the time. Years later, when I was auditioning for Martin Short: Fame Becomes Me, they were in the room because they wrote the music, and they wanted to see me again because they remembered that one-night show.

So, I think there are two lessons here. One is to be prepared to not be prepared. You have to be able to pivot and think on your feet because you never know what someone’s going to throw at you in the room. And that’s okay. A lot of times, the things I don’t prepare for turn out the best because I don’t have time to overthink or control it. I just go on instinct and do it from the heart. The other lesson is that even when you’re doing something small, like that one-night show downtown, where you might not even get paid and you’re wondering why you’re putting yourself through it, it can lead to something bigger down the road.

At the time, I didn’t think that show was going to be a career maker. I just thought it was fun, and then it was gone. But it led to my first Broadway show years later. Marc and Scott didn’t hunt me down right after that show to write something for me, but they remembered it. Especially now, when we create so much content that just goes out into the ether, it’s easy to think that nobody cares or remembers it, but people do. So, if you love someone’s work, let them know. Write that fan letter, because it might really matter to them. I remember watching One Day at a Time with Valerie Bertinelli and just being so in awe of her. If someone’s work impacts you, don’t be afraid to tell them. They might need to hear it.

Yitzi: You have so many exciting projects, you’ve done so many things. Can you share with our readers what you’re working on now, and what you’re hoping to work on in the near future?

Mary: Sure. Right now, one of the things I love to do, in addition to acting, is writing. I’m currently working on an animated feature film. I can’t say too much about it, but it’s very fanciful, very out there, and nerdy as hell. My hope is that it will be something parents and their kids can enjoy together — where the parents get the more off-color, edgier jokes, and the kids enjoy the kid-friendly humor, and everyone’s happy.

The story involves a lot of history, which is a big nerdy obsession of mine, and language. Writing it has been really humbling. It takes a lot of focus, especially now when it’s so easy to get distracted by everything around us. It’s tempting to just make a quick video and get immediate feedback, but I’m trying to stay the course and keep my eyes on the prize with this project.

It’s funny because I never thought I’d want to write something like this, but it’s put me back in touch with all those movies we grew up on, like the Disney films, and the impact they had. So that’s what I’m focused on now. It’s a weird time in the business, as I mentioned, so I’ve always loved having a lot of hobbies and passions outside of acting. This project is a big one for me right now.

Yitzi: Amazing. So let’s talk a little bit about your work. I assume you’re probably most well-known from Reno 9–1–1. You’ve been in 75 episodes, and the show has an 8-star rating on IMDb with a cult following. What do you think it was that captured people’s hearts and minds about the series?

Mary: Reno 9–1–1 really is such a special show. It’s not for everyone, but for the people it is for, it really resonates. It appeals to such a wide range of people — it cuts across age, gender, economic, and social strata. I’ve had 14-year-old boys obsessed with it, and even Harvard archaeologists love it. There’s something for everyone.

One of the things that makes Reno 9–1–1 so appealing is that it’s always kind of flown under the radar. I call it the cockroach of comedy because it just refuses to die. We keep thinking it’s done, and then we come back and do something else. It’s almost entirely improvised — about 99% of it is improv, which not a lot of people realize. But part of the appeal is that it’s been strong and steady without being this huge pop-culture phenomenon like, I dunno, Stranger Things. It’s more of a slow burn; it finds its people, and when it does, that bond is unbreakable. You come to love these characters because they’re so deeply flawed and disturbed.

Interestingly, even law enforcement officers love the show. It’s baffling, but they appreciate that we show them as flawed human beings, often just sitting in their cars, being kind of idiots. It’s especially interesting now, given the shift in attitudes about law enforcement, that people are still discovering the show and finding comfort in its levity and irreverence.

What’s unique about Reno 9–1–1 is that we never try to make a point. We touch on awful racial and racist tropes because the characters are awful people, but we’re never making a statement. That’s kind of the point — it’s a way to laugh about all the craziness out there without getting too serious. It’s comforting to watch and think, “At least I’m not them. I’m a pretty good person, actually, now that I think about it after watching that show.”

I think Reno 9–1–1 was also groundbreaking in a lot of ways, even though it wasn’t trying to be. It predated shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm and The Office — it was one of the first reality-based, mockumentary-style TV shows. That convention of following people around with a camera ended up being something a lot of other shows incorporated. So it was actually really innovative, even if it came from a place of just trying to do things cheaply and quickly. I consider myself really lucky to have been a part of it.

Yitzi: That’s great. I think everyone compares Reno 911 to Brooklyn 99. And I believe that Reno came first, right?

Mary: Reno came first.

Yitzi: So how do you, from an insider perspective, compare and contrast Reno to Brooklyn?

Mary: Yeah, it’s funny. I’m old enough to remember another show called Barney Miller, which I feel Brooklyn 99 might be closer to than Reno. The main difference, from an insider perspective, is that Brooklyn 99 is scripted, whereas Reno 911 is almost entirely improvised. That gives Reno a different kind of energy — a more underground, off-the-cuff vibe, where it feels like we’re just winging it, and nobody’s told us to stop yet. It’s like we’re operating on the fringes, and there’s this sense of “Can you believe they haven’t taken us off the air yet?”

Brooklyn 99 is such a great show, but it fits more within the traditional mold of broadcast television. In some ways, it feels like a throwback to the classic sitcom structure. It’s polished, scripted, and has that familiar rhythm of a sitcom. Reno, on the other hand, is more of a mockumentary style, where you’re a fly on the wall, watching these absurd situations unfold in real time. So, while both shows are comedies about law enforcement, they have very different tones and approaches. I’d say Reno 911 is a lot more punk rock.

Yitzi: That’s great. So how would you compare and contrast your personal character, Mary, with the character you play in Reno, Deputy Kimball?

Mary: Yeah, it’s interesting. In many ways, Deputy Kimball is the opposite of me. She’s just unapologetically herself — she doesn’t really try to impress anyone or make them like her. Looking back, she almost seems like she might be on the spectrum because she has very little social game. She’s not putting in a lot of effort to win people over. Meanwhile, I’m constantly wondering, “How am I doing? Do you like this? What if I wear a hat? How about this dress?” I’m always trying to make others feel comfortable, almost tap dancing to please people. Kimball, on the other hand, fully embraces her awkwardness and doesn’t care if there’s silence in a room. She’s great at compartmentalizing — whatever she’s doing is the only thing that matters at that moment.

The one thing we share is our Southern roots. I definitely drew on my family’s Southern background when playing Kimball. My Aunt Pat, for instance, worked at a police department for years. I didn’t consciously model Kimball after her, though. Aunt Pat was super Christian, super Republican, but also sweet and funny. She wasn’t much like Kimball, but some of those traits seeped into the character. Kimball turned out to be super Christian and straight edge, mostly because when I joined the show, the cast had already been established. It felt like I was looking at a box of crayons and trying to figure out which color wasn’t already in the box. So I ended up as periwinkle, so to speak — a crayon that the box didn’t have yet.

Yitzi: So this is our signature question, and we’re almost done. You’ve been blessed with a lot of success now. Looking back to when you first started, do you have five things that you know now that you wish somebody had told you when you first started acting?

Mary: Oh, yeah, definitely. I could probably list 500 things, but I’ll try to keep it to five.

1. Embrace Who You Are: I wish someone had told me to embrace who I really am. I love playing different characters, but when I started out, I had this fantasy of leaving my small town and becoming someone fancy in the big city. But guess what? They don’t want fancy people — they want real people who bring their own experiences. All those folks you grew up with, those places you might think are boring, they’re what make you unique. Use that. Bring your hometown, your family, and your quirks with you. That’s what makes you stand out. I spent a lot of time running away from that, but now I’ve come to appreciate it. Your life, how you were raised — it’s all your material, your Play-Doh®. So don’t be ashamed of where you come from because there’s a show out there that needs exactly that.

2. Get a Balanced Life: I wish someone had told me to cultivate hobbies and passions outside of acting. Play a sport, nerd out on a weird topic, volunteer — just find something you love that has nothing to do with the entertainment industry. If you’re in a place like Los Angeles or New York, the industry can be all-consuming and stressful. You need outlets. About 10 years ago, I rediscovered my love for painting and art. The great thing about a creative hobby is that there’s no pressure — it’s just fun. When I’m drawing or painting, I’m like a six-year-old again. I don’t care if it’s good; I just enjoy it. That pure creativity feeds back into your acting work.

3. Get a Community: Especially now, with so much self-taping and isolation, it’s crucial to have a community. I highly recommend improv and sketch comedy. It’s a way to act without taking yourself too seriously, and you bond with others in the process. After a show, you can go out, grab a beer, and support each other. It reminds you that you’re not alone in this. Doing this on your own can be devastating, so find your people.

4. Spread the Love Around: If you can recommend someone else for a part, do it. Not just because it’s a nice thing to do, but also because it’s good karma. You’re helping the actor, and you’re helping whoever’s project it is. They’ll remember that next time you’re up for something. Even if they didn’t cast you, they’ll appreciate that you helped them find someone who was perfect for the role. It’s a win-win, and it builds good will.

5. Be Nice to Everyone: This might sound basic, but it’s so important. Treat everyone with respect — the guy who cleans the bathrooms, the person setting up the catering table, the extras/background actors. Everyone’s stressed and nervous in this industry. Being kind makes a huge difference. If you’re anxious on set, find someone who looks more stressed out or shy than you, and help them out. It gets the focus off yourself, and it reminds you of what really matters. We’re just playing dress-up — we’re not curing cancer. Making someone feel at ease is a great way to end your day feeling like you did something good.

And it’s good to hear myself say it out loud, too, because, remember– I’m shy, so I just want to hide in my trailer (because — socially awkward!) but people might mistake that for snobbiness. So making a little small talk with someone who’s been standing on their feet for hours is a small thing that can make a big difference.

Yitzi: This is our final aspirational question. So Mary, because of your great work and the platform you’ve built, you’re a person of enormous influence. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be?

Mary: I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily know how to implement it, but more than anything, I’d say compassion — especially now. Just being able to put yourself in someone else’s shoes for a second. We all need that. Sometimes, I might even overdo it. My sister jokes that I always play devil’s advocate when she’s upset about something. I’ll say, “Maybe they were rushing to the hospital, and that’s why they cut you off,” and she’s like, “Would you please stop defending everyone?”

But honestly, I think it’s so important to just look out for others. Like I mentioned earlier, find someone who looks more uncomfortable or out of place than you, or someone who seems lost. We’re all in our own little worlds, and it’s easy to forget that we need connection. You can completely change someone’s day with something as simple as saying, “I like your shoes,” or “Do you need help with that door?” Just be kind. Don’t be an asshole. That’s my campaign slogan: “Don’t be an asshole.”

Yitzi: How can the readers continue to follow your work? How can they support you in any way? How can they purchase anything that you have to offer?

Mary: I love chocolate — they can support me by sending me chocolate! No, but seriously, the main place to keep up with my craziness is on Instagram (@marybirdsongofficial). It’s the same handle on Facebook and TikTok. And my YouTube channel is MaryBirdsongTV. Please follow, subscribe, and spread the word about my videos. And just say hi, reach out! If I’m not too crazed or busy, I love interacting with people. Some of my friends started out as fans, which is really satisfying. Some of them I’ve never even met, but we have a nice back-and-forth when we can on social media, and I love that. So, let me know you’re out there!

Yitzi: Amazing. Mary, it’s been a real delight and a pleasure to meet you. I hope we do this again next year.

Mary: Awesome. Thank you so much.