Julianne Nicholson Loved Going “Face Down, Ass Up” as Dance Mom on ‘Hacks’

This story contains spoilers for the ninth episode of Hacks season 4.

For decades, Julianne Nicholson has showcased her dramatic chops in projects that range from devastating (Mare of Easttown) to unsettling (Blonde) to archly imposing (this year’s Paradise). So it feels like something of a miracle she was even considered to play “Dance Mom”—yes, this is the only name she gets—in the fourth season of the Emmy-winning comedy Hacks. The wild role has Nicholson trying out broad physical comedy, a bizarre wardrobe, increasingly bulky drug operate, and some truly ridiculous—or hell, maybe brilliantly avant-garde—dances.

“I never get a chance to do anything funny, and I’m always trying to do something different,” says Nicholson as we begin our conversation. That’s an understatement: Her bouncy, tragicomic TikTok star has been one of Hacks’ most delightful surprises this year. When she was first asked to appear on the fresh late-night show hosted by Deborah Vance (Jean Smart), Dance Mom was a true small-town fish out of water, all smiles and bewilderment.

But by the season’s penultimate episode, she’s passed out on a production lot, unable to perform unless she gets a bracing portion of fresh cocaine. “That song comes on, and you just have to go for it,” says Nicholson. “Go as big as you can. But also, she’s very serious. She’s still trying to do a good job.”

Vanity Fair: Did you have a sense of why they wanted you for Dance Mom? As far as I know, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever done.

Julianne Nicholson: Correct, that’s true. I think they were fans of my work and I remember them saying they wanted it grounded in a real person—bless them for having the imagination to think of me for that role.

You prepared for the role by going down a TikTok rabbit hole. Did you gain an understanding of who this person is and how to play her?

I felt like I did, yeah. It’s such an captivating mash-up of a woman in this time of her life and just how she’s dressing, how she’s moving, the joy that’s in there—but what else is going on? Of course, we take it to the extremes. [Laughs] But I felt like I didn’t have an understanding of who she was at first. I wrote to my agent, like, “Is there going to be a choreographer?” A lot of women who do this online, they were dancers or they do cheerleading or they had some past in choreography execution—I do not have that.

The Hacks production found two people in England, where I am living right now. One of them just popped out for me: this fantastic juvenile choreographer named Corey Baker. I would go up to London twice a week, and it was like I was suddenly a dancer. I was like, “Is that my plan B? Is that my fallback plan?”

The first thing we did was just play a song, and I danced to it to get over the embarrassment or any self-consciousness or whatever. I pulled up a RuPaul song, I can’t remember which at the top of my mind, but I just danced. And Corey was like, “Great, now let’s go.”

Did you have a favorite wardrobe item?

There was a denim jacket with footballs on it. [Laughs] And I loved all her colors. I liked her lacy bobby socks. It’s also difficult to beat the scrunchie, and in the end, that dress with those silver boots and the cowboy hats. I loved all the appliqués, and the brilliant colors, and all the way, way, way too tight jeans and maybe even the jeggings. They all had to have stretch. Of course, I still had to be moving.