Polly Holliday, the actress forever associated with the sharp wit and unforgettable sass of Flo on the long-running CBS sitcom “Alice,” died Tuesday at her home in Manhattan. She was 88. With a single line delivered in a Southern drawl—“Kiss my grits!”—Holliday secured a permanent place in television history, turning a supporting role into a cultural phenomenon. At a time when sitcom characters rarely escaped the boundaries of their shows, Flo became a symbol of working-class resilience and humor, and Holliday’s performance ensured the character would live on long after the diner lights dimmed.
Holliday’s portrayal of Flo was rooted in precision rather than exaggeration. She brought toughness, vulnerability, and comic timing to the gum-smacking waitress, transforming what could have been a caricature into a fully realized presence. Audiences embraced Flo not only for her sharp tongue, but for her underlying warmth and grit, qualities Holliday conveyed effortlessly. The role was so popular that it inspired a short-lived spinoff, a testament to the character’s impact and to Holliday’s ability to command attention even within an ensemble cast. Her work on “Alice” helped redefine how strong, outspoken women could be portrayed on network television during the late 1970s and early 1980s.
While Flo may have been her most famous role, Holliday’s career extended far beyond the confines of Mel’s Diner. She demonstrated remarkable range on the big screen, memorably playing the sinister Mrs. Deagle in Joe Dante’s 1984 cult classic “Gremlins.” The role showcased her ability to pivot from comedy to menace with ease, leaving audiences unsettled by a performance that balanced dark humor with genuine threat. Her film résumé also included acclaimed titles such as “All the President’s Men,” “Mrs. Doubtfire,” and “The Parent Trap,” each appearance reinforcing her reputation as a dependable and distinctive character actress.
Television audiences continued to welcome Holliday well after her “Alice” years. She appeared as Tim Allen’s formidable mother-in-law on “Home Improvement,” bringing her trademark authority and comedic edge to a new generation of viewers. Additional appearances on “Homicide: Life on the Streets,” “The Golden Girls,” and “Amazing Stories” reflected both her versatility and her enduring demand in an industry that often sidelines actresses as they age. Holliday’s performances consistently added texture and credibility to the projects she joined, no matter how large or small the role.
Her talents were not limited to screen work. Holliday was also a respected stage actress, earning a Tony Award nomination for Best Featured Actress in a 1990 revival of Tennessee Williams’s “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” where she starred opposite Charles Durning. The nomination affirmed what theater audiences already knew—that her command of language, timing, and emotional nuance was as powerful on stage as it was on screen. Her final film credit came in 2010 with Doug Liman’s political thriller “Fair Game,” marking the close of a career defined by consistency, professionalism, and range.
Polly Holliday leaves behind a legacy built not on fleeting fame, but on performances that resonated across decades and mediums. She gave voice to characters who were sharp, flawed, intimidating, and often deeply human, earning respect from audiences and peers alike. Though she will forever be linked to a single iconic line, her body of work tells a far richer story—one of an actress who understood the power of character and the lasting impact of doing the work well. At 88, Holliday is remembered not just for a catchphrase, but for a career that helped shape American television and film.
