SERIES REVIEW – Netflix’s Sirens is a five-episode dark drama that holds a merciless mirror up to sibling bonds and the deep chasm separating social classes. Meghann Fahy and Milly Alcock play sisters who find themselves trapped on a lavish, yet menacing estate, where Julianne Moore’s Michaela “Kiki” Kell uses her magnetic presence to upend their lives. The series expertly walks the line between steamy intrigue and deeply personal identity crises, all while dissecting the absurdities of the upper crust. Sirens is a modern, hypnotic fable about the illusions of power, the pull of desire, and the unsettling truths that lurk beneath polished surfaces.

Adapted from Molly Smith Metzler’s play Elemeno Pea, Sirens initially unfolds like a story you’ve heard before: Devon (Meghann Fahy), rattled by her father’s early-onset dementia, tries desperately to reconnect with her sister. Simone (Milly Alcock), however, responds with a fruit basket and complete silence. Fresh out of a brief jail stint—its cause revealed later—Devon journeys to the windswept island where Simone now works as Michaela “Kiki” Kell’s live-in assistant. Michaela is both captivating and disquieting, her presence enough to transform both sisters’ worlds in an instant.

Gilded Settings, Crumbling Foundations

Simone takes charge of organizing Michaela’s annual summer gala, an event meant to fund a bird sanctuary, but seems utterly enthralled by this colorful, extravagant life. Michaela picks out bright pinks and blues for Simone to wear, while her sister’s pristine white smile gleams in every response to Devon’s probing questions. This isn’t the sister Devon once knew—and it shows in every wary glance. While Simone strains to keep up appearances, the perfect world around her begins to crack, forcing all three women to grapple with how far they’ve strayed from who they truly are. By weekend’s end, some will rise above the tangled web of lies, while others will be buried beneath it.

Devon is sure Michaela’s charm has ensnared Simone, but she herself isn’t immune to the siren call of luxury. We watch as Michaela plucks her gum from her lips and places it delicately on Simone’s tongue, while the household staff flutters around her, eager to please. Michaela has crafted a life for herself where she appears to hold even more power than her billionaire husband, Peter (Kevin Bacon), all through the art of bending people’s wills and recasting their desires to suit her own ends.

The ensemble cast is uniformly strong, but it’s Julianne Moore who commands the frame. As Michaela, her plastic grin morphs into a sneer or a sulk when things don’t go her way—then hardens into a mechanical, vacant mask. Like her cultish entourage, Michaela seems caught in a gilded cage, as if she’s a lost member of the Stepford Wives. Yet under the polished surface, we see glimpses that suggest she might be the only one fully in control of her own narrative.

Twisted Reflections and Buried Longings

Michaela and Simone’s relationship lies at the heart of this warped power dynamic. Michaela shields Simone like a wounded bird, yet is equally determined to mold her into a near-perfect replica of herself. Their bond is tinged with an almost erotic tension: the camera lingers on every glance and touch, underscored by a soundtrack of hushed gasps and sighs. Even Devon, despite her best efforts, finds herself being pulled deeper into Michaela’s world of decadence and deceit.

While many contemporary dramas skewer the chasm between the haves and the have-nots with a satirical edge, Sirens opts for something far more haunting. Though the series occasionally misses the sharpness it needs, it still lays bare the brutal truth: how often those without means must trade pieces of their true selves to claw their way forward. One of its most haunting images is Michaela, blood-smeared and clutching a dying bird, staring through a telescope directly at the viewer. It’s a potent visual that forces us to confront the eternal limbo of grief and artifice faced by the “trophy wife.”

Moore haunts every frame like a restless spirit, while Alcock blazes through scenes with the energy of an unquiet ghost. Simone is desperate to measure up to her boss’s expectations, but her old life in New York and the secrets she left behind threaten to swallow her whole. She’s scrubbed off the matching sister tattoos and had her nose redone—Devon barely recognizes the woman before her. But as Michaela and Devon compete for Simone’s loyalty, one thing becomes clear: Simone might be the only one who truly understands who she is and what she wants.

When the Gleam Fades

Sirens is at its best when it abandons glossy decadence and digs into the messy realities of class and female identity. The fourth and penultimate episode embraces full-throttle melodrama, delivering a climax that crackles with monologues from Alcock, Fahy, Bacon, and Moore. It’s one of those rare shows that leans into its pulpy essence and refuses to apologize for it. While the fifth and final episode may push the theatrics a little too far, the series never feels like it overstays its welcome. In an era where truly limited series are hard to come by, Sirens stands as a testament to the power of a well-told, tightly woven story—even if it doesn’t always draw blood, it always leaves a mark.

-Gergely Herpai “BadSector”-