Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is a wild comedy. It tells Kimmy’s story. She escapes from a doomsday cult after 15 years. Now, she faces big city life. Kimmy is bright and optimistic, ready for anything. She meets Titus, a wannabe actor, Jacqueline, a rich socialite and Lillian, her odd landlord. Sharp humor, colorful characters and warm themes of resilience fill this show. It’s a fun ride!

Meet the characters from Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

Gretchen

Gretchen is a wild, loud, totally unfiltered force of nature — part cult recruiter, part messy best friend, and 100% dramatic energy. She screams her opinions like a pep rally and somehow makes chaos feel like a lifestyle choice, which is simultaneously infuriating and magnetic. There’s this weird mix of blind optimism and stubborn cruelty sometimes? (She swears she’s doing the right thing, even if it looks like glitter-covered chaos.) She also collects bizarre trophies and will insist they have deep symbolic meaning even if you think they’re just coffee shop knickknacks.

Xanthippe

Xanthippe is snappy, fashionable, and sharp-tongued in the best possible way — imagine a rich kid with a razor wit and a secret soft spot for tiny dogs. She’s hyper-competitive and polished but also wildly insecure under that surface, which makes her unexpectedly human at 2 a.m. She’ll roast you and then buy you a designer scarf as an apology, and sometimes she cries over paint swatches (seriously). She acts like she runs the world but is learning to let people in, slowly and with dramatic hesitation.

Donna Maria

Donna Maria is theatrical, fervent, and gloriously unfiltered — she treats religion like a Broadway number and owns every single moment she steps into. She can be manipulative and theatrical, sure, but there’s a genuine devotion and warmth there that sneaks up on you; also, she talks in metaphors a lot. She insists on elaborate rituals (kitchen altars, hand gestures, chants) and somehow it’s both comforting and slightly alarming. Oh and she has an inexplicable obsession with ornate casserole dishes — like, she judges people by their bakeware, I swear.

Cyndee

Cyndee is sugar-sweet, endlessly optimistic, and so stubbornly cheerful it’s basically her superpower — she’s the friend who will sing the worst advice and somehow make it feel true. There’s a naiveté but also a surprising core strength; she remembers things no one else does (but forgets names in the most adorable way). She loves God, group hugs, and those tiny motivational sayings that make you roll your eyes and then feel better five minutes later. Also, she probably has a secret zombie apocalypse plan written on Post-its, because of course she does.

Mikey

Mikey is the kid trying on identities like hats — sweet, a little adrift, and always switching goals like outfits. He’s endlessly earnest and a little bit spacey, but also clever in unexpected ways; he’ll unintentionally drop a truth bomb and then shrug like he didn’t do anything. He’s loyal to a fault and loves big gestures (musicals, poster boards, dramatic apologies) and sometimes cries at commercials — twice. He wants to be a pilot? Or a lawyer? Or a clown? Honestly he’s still figuring that out and that’s kind of adorable.

Jacqueline

Jacqueline is glamorous, sharp, and wildly complicated — she runs boardrooms and dinner parties with equal ferocity, and there’s this really lovely vulnerability behind her perfectly manicured façade. She’s classy and conniving in the best soap-opera way; will cut you off in conversation and then leave you a scented candle. She hoards tiny porcelain things (vases, figurines) and bakes a mean mini quiche when she feels guilty. Underneath the designer coats is someone who’s terrified of being ordinary and kind of clings to drama to feel alive.

Lillian

Lillian is the grumpy, crackpot-y landlady with a heart made of pickles — hardcore, distrustful of modern nonsense, and suspiciously prepared for anything (doomsday bunkers? maybe). She swears at pigeons, collects jars of questionable preserved foods, and will lecture you about capitalism while knitting something that might be a sweater or a protest banner. She’s blunt to the point of art, fiercely protective, and has a surprisingly soft spot for community — just don’t expect her to admit it. Also, she’s probably got a conspiracy theory about your smartphone, and she’s likely correct.

Titus

Titus is Broadway-sized in personality: dramatic, hilarious, endlessly ambitious, and fabulously chaotic — he can make a tragic monologue feel like a roast. He bounces between delusions of grandeur and touching honesty, and somehow both are working on him simultaneously; he loses jobs but never dignity (well, maybe slightly). He’s a walking showstopper with a wardrobe that screams “vintage thrift store royalty,” and he gives life advice in soundbites that are equal parts sage and ridiculous. Deep down he’s wildly loyal and would stage a one-man musical to cheer you up, costumes and all.

Kimmy

Kimmy is sunbeam-level optimistic with a survivor’s backbone — bright, earnest, and stubbornly determined to remake her life one ridiculous plan at a time. She’s naive in the cutest ways (like mixing metaphors badly) but also fiercely! resourceful! — she survived a bunker, remember? She’s impulsive, loves glitter, and says inspirational memes out loud, and somehow makes everything feel fixable even when it’s not. Also, she hoards emergency snacks and has a binder of “plans” that’s both wildly practical and slightly insane, and you love her for it.