Part 1 — The Unexpected Breakthrough
Before Curb Your Enthusiasm, I wasn’t doing comedy.
I had a solid track record in dramatic roles—intense, emotionally high-stakes characters. My very first was on Law & Order. I played Amira on Lost, a flashback character from Sayid’s past. And then there was another deeply dramatic role in The Closer, where I portrayed a mother whose child was suspected of terrorism. These were heavy, serious characters. That was the space I lived in—and the space casting directors saw me in.
Comedy wasn’t just a shift in tone—it was an entirely different structure. A one-hour dramedy and a 30-minute sitcom follow totally different rhythms, different timing, and completely different delivery. At first, I didn’t know how to navigate that. But I trained. I worked hard. And I started to get good.
That’s when my reps began pushing for me in comedy. But even then, it was tough. My reel was made up entirely of drama. Casting didn’t have anything funny to go on—no evidence that I could handle comedy, let alone land it. So I wasn’t getting in the room.
That started to shift a year before Curb, when I booked a recurring role on CBS’s The Ex List. I played Marina, a psychic—and she was hilarious. That role gave me something I didn’t have before: comedic footage. It gave me confidence. And it proved to others that I could actually do it.
So when Curb Your Enthusiasm came along, it was more than a great opportunity. It was a chance to walk into the room as someone who had found her footing in comedy—even if I was still relatively new to the space.
The Curb Audition Process
Everyone knows Curb is unscripted. You’re not handed lines or given a scene to memorize. When you arrive at the audition, you’re given a short slip of paper explaining the scenario. That’s it. You go in with that information and improvise the entire thing with the casting director.
If you’re called back, Larry David personally attends the callback. If your scene is with him, he does the improv with you. If your scene involves another actor, I’ve heard they’re present to run it with you too. There are a lot of variables at play in who ultimately gets cast—you could give a great performance and still not be quite the look they need. But regardless, you have to bring a solid, grounded performance that can hold up in a long-form improv.
When I was called back, I was given the basics: she’s Palestinian, politically incorrect, and anti-Semitic. They asked if I’d be comfortable with potential nudity—nothing graphic, just a shot from the back. Beyond that, the rest was mine to build.
Finding My Comedic Voice
I wasn’t rusty as an actor when Curb came around—I was training regularly. Every week I worked with Sandy Marshall, and she’s actually the one who started pulling out my comedic side. One night she had me do an imaginary line of cocaine and throw on an accent. That moment unlocked something. That was the birth of this dry wit that had always been there underneath.
If I had to compare the tone that came out, I’d say it was a mix of Patsy Stone from Absolutely Fabulous and Dorothy from The Golden Girls (or maybe even Sophia—depending on the day). I could improvise from that place no problem. The rhythm, the attitude, the unapologetic edge—it came naturally once the accent was in place. That’s always been a strange thing about me: when I’m speaking in my natural voice, I’m not as funny. But when I drop into an accent, the character emerges fully formed—dry-witted, sharp, layered.
Improv, Training, and The Ex List
I had also done a level of long-form improv at Upright Citizens Brigade, where they teach you how to “lay a brick” and build the scene step by step. You don’t shut things down—you build. That stayed with me. It came in handy for Curb—because that show is long-form improv at its highest level.
And actually, a year before I booked Curb, I played Marina, a psychic, on CBS’s The Ex List. That was my first real comedy role—and it helped shape the version of me that could do funny. It was scripted, yes, but Marina had a similar tone to Shara. If you watch them side by side, there’s a definite thread: this dry, Middle Eastern, no-filter energy. The Ex List gave me the space to play in that world for the first time.
What I Studied to Get Good
I didn’t just wing it, though—I studied. I trained. I wanted to understand the blueprint of a comedic script, especially sitcom structure. I worked with Lesly Kahn, who really helped me break down the mechanics. Then I kept honing it weekly with Sandy Marshall to make sure I wasn’t slipping.
When it came to inspiration, I found myself drawn to British comedy. The Extras by Ricky Gervais was brilliant—uncomfortable, dry, grounded in reality. That kind of comedy spoke to me more than slapstick or over-the-top punchlines. And, of course, Patsy Stone—I watched Absolutely Fabulous on a loop. I’d fall asleep to it. I think it burned itself into my brain subconsciously. And I was a huge fan of The Golden Girls. I used to wonder why I loved it so much until one of my acting coaches in Canada, Jacqueline McClintock, said, “You’re watching veterans. That’s why.” And she was right.
Why That Episode Hit
I think the episode still lives on. Palestinian Chicken has become one of the most well-known titles from the show. Richard Lewis once tweeted that it was the most iconic guest appearance on Curb Your Enthusiasm. People might not remember my name, but they know me as “the Palestinian Chicken Lady.”
It struck a chord. The content was edgy. It was political—but funny. At the time it aired, there were tensions, yes, but nothing like what’s unfolding in the world today. What made it so memorable was how boldly it leaned into such a sensitive topic, and how everyone involved committed to the absurdity of it.
A Palestinian chicken restaurant opening across from a Jewish deli. Protest rallies. Larry stuck in the middle. And then lines like, “I’m going to F the Jew out of you”—it was outrageous. That tension, that chaos, that humor—it all made the episode unforgettable.
But the brilliance? That came from the Curb team. I didn’t write it. I didn’t plan it. I just stepped into the shoes of the character—and she took it from there.
The Legacy of One Episode
Shara left her mark—and not just on the audience. She shifted how I saw myself as a comedic actor. It took a long time to get through the comedy door, but once I did, I found something that had been there all along—waiting for the right moment, the right accent, the right character to bring it out. And sometimes, one episode is all it takes.
