This is her art and it is dangerous: Catherine O’Hara, 1954-2026

Lola Heatherton. Delia Deetz. Kate McCallister. Cookie Fleck. Mickey Crabbe. Moira Rose. And dozens of other fearlessly delusional women. When Catherine O’Hara left us on Jan. 30, 2026, so did a bustling caravan of iconic comic creations. No wonder her unexpected departure left so many fans feeling disproportionately lonely and bereft.

Walt Whitman contained multitudes, but he didn’t have nearly as many wigs.

O’Hara launched her career as one of a gaggle of scrappy Canadian comedians at Second City Toronto — understudying for Gilda Radner — who then took their act to the American airwaves in 1976 on the deliberately scruffy-looking SCTV, a late-night sketch program at first known primarily for not being Saturday Night Live. From those humble beginnings, the inventively chameleonic O’Hara established herself as not just one indelible figure in popular culture but several — weaponizing pretentiousness in Beetlejuice, bleating “KEVIN!!” at the camera in Home Alone, improvising blithe cluelessness into comedy gold in the films of Christopher Guest, and becoming quotably meme-able in her sixties in the improbable TV hit Schitt’s Creek.

In an industry that has historically been reluctant to admit that females can be funny, and tends to lose interest in women performers beyond the ripe old age of 29, O’Hara stubbornly continued to parlay her undeniable talents into cultural ubiquity, to the degree that a discussion of her resume can easily neglect to mention her characteristically exquisite performances just last year in Emmy-magnet TV series like The Studio and The Last of Us.

No wonder it feels like Hollywood lost not just one irreplaceable talent but an entire squad.