Loretta Swit, the Emmy-winning actor best known for her time as Maj. Margaret “Hot Lips” Houlihan on the TV version of “M*A*S*H,” died Friday in her New York City apartment, her representative confirmed to The Times. She was 87.

Swit was found by her housekeeper around 10 a.m., according to publicist Harlan Boll, who said he had been on the phone with her at 11 p.m. local time Thursday night — 2 a.m. Friday in New York. Her doorman saw her drop something in the mail at 4 a.m. Friday, New York time, Boll said, and six hours later, she was gone.

The actor — born Loretta Jane Szwed on Nov. 4, 1937, in Passaic, N.J. — loved playing Hot Lips so much that she was the only performer other than Alan Alda who stayed on the series from its pilot in 1972 through its much-watched finale in 1983. “M*A*S*H,” set during the Korean War, was a sitcom but also more than that to Swit.

“There is, I think, an intelligence behind the humor,” she told The Times in 1977. “The audience is huge, and they deserve to be entertained on the highest level we can achieve.”

Though her portrayal of the libido-driven blond in fatigues and Army boots catapulted Swit to household-name status, she had been in acting since before her 8th birthday in stage productions and musicals in New York. She left home at 17 to work in the theater, temping at secretarial jobs while studying at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts.

A confessed workaholic, Swit moved easily from comedy to drama, acting in “Same Time, Next Year,” “Mame” and “The Odd Couple” before moving to Los Angeles to star in “M*A*S*H.” She appeared in iconic series such as “Hawaii Five-O,” “Mission: Impossible” and “Mannix,” and had a productive television career until very recently.

Her most recent TV appearance was as herself in the 2024 Fox tribute special “M*A*S*H: The Comedy That Changed Television.”

Her theater work was plentiful, and in addition to Broadway, off-Broadway, regional and national work, included shows in Southern California. She joined Harry Hamlin in “One November Yankee” at the NoHo Arts Center in 2012, three years after doing a reading of the play with a different actor at the Pasadena Playhouse.

“M*A*S*H” filmed its outdoor scenes at Malibu Creek State Park, where the set was re-created for fans’ enjoyment in 2008.

“It’s thrilling to be honored in this way,” Swit told The Times that year. “I think if I had to sum it up, what we’re most proud of is that we made everybody come together. And I think this will also bring people together.”

Swit was nominated for 10 Emmys for her Hot Lips role and won for supporting actress in a comedy, variety or music series in 1980 and 1982. She garnered four Golden Globe nominations for her work on “M*A*S*H,” in the lead and supporting actress categories, but did not win.

She was given a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame in 1989, near what is now the home of Amoeba Music.

An animal lover, Swit set up the SwitHeart Animal Alliance to prevent cruelty and end animal suffering. The alliance worked with numerous nonprofit organizations and programs to protect, rescue, train and care for animals and preserve their habitat, while raising public awareness about issues that concern domestic, farm, exotic, wild and native animals.

She created an art book, “SwitHeart: The Watercolour Artistry & Animal Activism of Loretta Swit,” which includes 65 of her full-color paintings and drawings and 22 of her photographs. Proceeds went to animal causes, and the 2016 Betty White Award from the group Actors and Others for Animals was but one of the many honors she received for her philanthropic work.

Former freelance writer T.L. Stanley contributed to this report.

The film opens with Namrutha aka Nami (Sruthi Hariharan) facing trial for the murder of wealthy Miss Eliza Sherman (Suhasini Maniratnam) in an American courthouse. These early courtroom scenes, following US procedural conventions with jury deliberations and cross-examinations, feel distinctly theatrical. The dialogue sounds more like position statements than actual conversation, coming across as stiff portraits rather than living drama. Maya Kannappa (Varalaxmi Sarathkumar), Nami’s formidable attorney, works through these proceedings with visible competence, though even her presence can’t entirely mask the procedural dryness that makes you check your watch.

Thankfully, the real movie emerges post-acquittal. Nami reveals herself as more than just a defendant – she’s a strategist who suspects her nurse husband Varun (Prakash Mohandas) orchestrated Eliza’s death for inheritance money. Through flashbacks, we see Eliza’s genuine bond with Nami, making her murder more personal and calculated. Suhasini Maniratnam brings gravitas to these glimpses, creating a fully-realized character despite limited screen time. Even Raphael, Eliza’s long-time caretaker, becomes a pawn in this game, manipulated by Varun to provide false testimony that nearly seals Nami’s fate.

What transforms the film is the alliance between three women against one manipulative man. When Pragya, Varun’s pregnant colleague, realizes his true nature after he casually suggests abortion as a first response to her news, she becomes the third player in this game. The dynamics shift as Nami, Maya, and Pragya orchestrate an elaborate trap using the early COVID pandemic as cover. It’s here that the initially plastic characterizations start to make sense – these people were always performing for each other, hiding their true intentions behind carefully constructed facades.

The film’s strength lies in how it treats manipulation as a double-edged sword. Varun believes he’s the puppet master, but the women around him have been pulling different strings all along. Using his arrogance against him, they create a scenario where his need to boast becomes his undoing. The recording scene where Varun confesses his crimes to Maya, believing her to be another conquest, is particularly well-executed – a predator caught by his own vanity.

Varalaxmi Sarathkumar commands every scene as Maya, bringing both legal authority and street-smart cunning to her role. She’s the film’s anchor, making even the stiff courtroom sequences watchable through sheer presence. Sruthi Hariharan impressively navigates Nami’s transformation from victim to victor, while Prakash Mohandas delivers a compelling performance that truly comes alive in the second half. The supporting cast are adequate.

Krishna Shankar shows promise in handling the thriller elements, particularly in the second half where psychological warfare replaces legal procedures. The screenplay excels at revealing character through action rather than exposition – watch how each person reacts when cornered, and you’ll understand who they really are. The film cleverly positions its reveals to maximize impact, letting us discover alongside the characters that trust is the most dangerous game of all. After all, Varun himself is the real infection that needs eliminating.

The Verdict works best when it abandons the courtroom for the messier arena of human duplicity, where justice wears a different face entirely. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best verdict isn’t delivered by a jury but orchestrated by those who refuse to remain victims.

Written By: Abhinav Subramanian