Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is set in late 1950s and early 1960s. It follows Midge, a housewife who finds her stand-up comedy talent after her husband leaves. With eye-catching costumes and funny lines, this show shines. It gets lots of love for strong female characters and clever humor. You will laugh, you will cry and you might even cringe at some moments.

Meet the characters from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Sophie Lennon

Oh Sophie — the vampy, glittering stage queen who everyone loves to gossip about. She’s all shimmer, publicity, and razor-sharp lines onstage, but offstage she’s quietly engineering chaos like a cat with a chemistry set (in a good way? maybe). Gorgeous and ruthless and also kind of fragile if you look too long; she hoards compliments like candy and then pretends she never eats sweets. Honestly, she’s equal parts diva and broken heart, and you can’t help but root for her even when she’s being a genuine nightmare.

Shirley

Shirley is that warm, nosy aunt who will make you tea and then ask uncomfortable questions while rearranging your cushions — sweet but unavoidably opinionated. She loves a casserole, hates modern music (or claims to, then taps her foot when something sneaks through), and has a memory like a steel trap for other people’s birthdays. There’s this steady, grounding presence to her that makes everything feel like a neighborhood sitcom set in a cozy kitchen. Sometimes she’ll surprise you with a sharp barb and then apologize like it was the weather — truly endearing and mildly alarming.

Joel

Joel is soft-spoken, talented in a tentative, melancholy way, like a poet who keeps losing his pen — lovable and frustrating in equal measure. He’s a bit lost, honestly, ambitious but also easily swayed by the easiest path (not always a compliment), and there’s this layer of sincerity that makes you believe in him even when he’s making poor life choices. He paints in little bursts, wears cardigans, and looks like someone who could make soup that would fix a heartbreak. Occasionally he’s brave, unexpectedly so, and then he’ll go back to being the sleepy-eyed guy who can’t find his keys.

Rose

Rose is the practical, stylish mother with a dry one-liner always ready — she runs the home like it’s a tight, elegant ship. She loves bargains (with pride), reads the paper like it’s religion, and has surprisingly radical moments tucked under her sensible coats. She gives the best half-advice, half-lecture speeches that somehow feel like therapy; also she hums weird songs when she’s nervous, which is charming and mildly suspicious. There’s this quiet warmth but also a side-eye that could curdle milk, and I mean that in the best possible way.

Moishe

Uncle Moishe is the curmudgeonly old-timer with a thousand stories, most of which are true-ish and all of which are wildly entertaining. He’ll scold you for wearing the wrong shoes and then feed you soup out of an old Tupperware like you’re the only family he’s got (very contradictory vibes, yes). He’s sentimental about the past, suspicious of the future, and loves a good lament — the kind that ends up being a eulogy for a hat. You can picture him at a kitchen table, flourishing a handkerchief and making you laugh until you cry, then insisting he “never cries” and walking off.

Lenny

Lenny is the sharp-tongued comic with nerves of steel masking a weird, anxious soft center — he’ll roast you and then bring you soup. He’s gutsy onstage, brilliant with an edge, and sometimes self-destructive but in a way that makes his material painfully honest (and addictive). He smokes like he’s auditioning for a noir film, winks too much, and loves a bathtub philosophical rant at 2 a.m. He’s infuriating and magnetic and somehow always the person you remember from the room — the kind of friend who will bail you out and then lecture you at length about your life choices.

Midge

Midge is this electric, unstoppable force — dazzling, funny, brilliant, and absolutely chaotic (in the best way). She talks a mile a minute, has a wardrobe that could fuel a small country, and treats the world like a stage that desperately needs her jokes; also she’s fiercely loving and kind, which is a combo that kills and heals. She’s got this irresistible optimism that occasionally trips over reality but then bounces back with a joke and a new dress. She juggles motherhood, ambition, and a weird affection for snacks at midnight — basically a tornado in pearls.

Benjamin

Benjamin is the quiet intellectual with an artistic streak and a tendency to brood dramatically in dimly lit rooms. He’s elegant, precise, and sometimes emotionally distant — like a portrait that looks better the further away you stand. He loves modern art, classical music, and has a way of making practical plans feel like emotional statements (confusing but interesting). Occasionally he shows flashes of tenderness that could melt glass, then disappears to his sketchbook, which is maddening and also kind of beautiful.

Susie

Susie is the badass soul with a tiny, scorching fuse — brutally honest, fiercely loyal, and always three steps ahead in a plan you didn’t even know needed making. She cusses, she schemes, she protects her people like a velociraptor with a law degree, and she has a heart that will surprise you when it decides to reveal itself. She’s rough around the edges, secretly sentimental (ugh), and has zero patience for nonsense unless it’s profitable or hilarious. Honestly, she’s the best manager you could ever fear and also the only person who knows where your career is actually going.

Abe

Abe is the dignified, slightly pompous academic dad with a dry sense of humor and a closet full of sweaters that are somehow both cozy and intimidating. He loves logic, history, and making lectures out of family dinners (he’s not wrong, just relentless). There’s a deep well of love under the stern professor exterior — he’ll chastise you about your life choices and then quietly support them in ways you don’t notice until later. He corrects grammar mid-conversation, reads journals to fall asleep, and somehow manages to be both painfully proud and embarrassingly tender all at once.