Julianne Moore’s utterly addictive cult drama is preposterously fun
There’s a certain kind of show that doesn’t just pull you in — it dares you to look away. Sirens, the new Netflix limited series, is one of those rare beasts. Equal parts soap, satire, and psychological thriller, it’s a five-episode fever dream of privilege, power, and sisterhood — and it might just be one of the most unexpectedly addictive watches of the year.
Anchored by Julianne Moore in a career-highlight performance and flanked by a razor-sharp ensemble, Sirens wastes no time plunging viewers into a world that’s as dazzling as it is dangerous.
A Falafel Job, a Fruit Basket, and a Family Breakdown
It starts in grim reality: Devon (Meghann Fahy), a sharp-tongued, semi-functioning alcoholic, is stuck slinging falafel and coping with her father’s dementia. Her love life is as chaotic as her day job — an affair with her married boss offers little relief from her spiraling existence.
When Devon sends a desperate message to her estranged younger sister, Simone (played with haunting poise by Milly Alcock), she expects support. What she gets instead is a pretentious edible arrangement. That’s all it takes to light a fuse.
Fueled by rage and grief, Devon sets off to confront Simone — and what she finds is a gilded cage.
Enter the Cult Queen: Julianne Moore as Michaela Kell
Simone, it turns out, now works as a personal assistant to the enigmatic Michaela Kell — raptor conservationist, socialite, and spiritual magnet around whom a glossy, unnervingly obedient entourage orbits.
Moore is magnetic as Michaela — her every glance calculated, her every phrase dripping with manufactured intimacy. This is not just a job Simone has landed; it’s an initiation into a lifestyle, one that screams cult with every white robe and whispered mantra.
Devon sees through it immediately. But rescuing her sister from Michaela’s gilded claws proves more complicated than she ever imagined.
A Campy, Classy Collision Course
What makes Sirens work so well is its tonal tightrope. It’s absurd in all the right ways — think The White Lotus with a side of Big Little Lies — but never sloppy. Every ounce of melodrama is anchored by emotional truth, and every twist is laced with dark humor or social commentary.
Devon’s struggle to reforge a bond with Simone becomes the emotional anchor, even as billionaire yachts, backroom deals, and live falcons soar through the plot. (Yes, falcons. Don’t ask — just watch.)
There’s a sharp satire of class dynamics simmering beneath the surface. Sirens doesn’t just poke fun at the ultra-rich — it questions the systems that allow charisma and wealth to masquerade as moral authority.
And as Devon battles not just Michaela but her own addictions, demons, and regrets, the show subtly morphs into a story about sisterhood, survival, and self-respect.
Star Power and Structure That Works
Meghann Fahy, fresh off her White Lotus breakout, is exceptional. Devon is messy, damaged, and wildly funny — a woman in freefall with just enough fight left in her to make us root for her. Milly Alcock is equally compelling, capturing Simone’s vulnerability beneath the veil of newfound sophistication.
Kevin Bacon lends a sinister softness to Michaela’s billionaire husband, while It’s Always Sunny’s Glenn Howerton adds chaotic energy as Ethan, a wildcard thrown into the power games.
And then there’s Catherine Cohen, who steals every scene as Devon’s accidental drunk tank companion, offering some of the series’ best comic relief in otherwise tense moments.
But the real victory here is in the writing. Adapted by Molly Smith Metzler from her play Elemeno Pea, the script crackles with theatrical energy while maintaining a cinematic pace. There’s no filler. Each of the five episodes feels necessary, building toward a finale that satisfies without closing every door.
Sirens, Mythology, and the Danger of Proximity
There’s cleverness to the title too. “Sirens” might suggest luring women, danger, beauty — but the show plays with this mythology. Who’s luring whom? Is Michaela the siren? Or is it the life Simone dreams of? Or is the real danger the call of the past Devon keeps trying to silence with alcohol and sarcasm?
There’s also an eerie undercurrent of threat — literal cliffs, literal birds of prey, and figurative emotional ledges. Characters stand too close to both physical and psychological edges, and Sirens makes you feel the vertigo.
A Rare Thing: Camp with Consequences
Too many shows drown in their own cleverness or sink under self-importance. Sirens manages to laugh at itself without undercutting its characters. It’s campy but never hollow, dramatic but never overwrought. And it’s a rare miniseries that doesn’t outstay its welcome.
The finale is particularly satisfying. It lands its emotional punches, offers just enough resolution to feel earned, but leaves a few delicious questions dangling. Should Netflix give us a second season? Absolutely. But Sirens doesn’t beg for it — it earns the possibility.
Final Verdict
Sirens is what happens when top-tier talent meets tight writing and fearless direction. It’s bingeable, bold, and beautifully bizarre. If you like your drama with bite, your satire with depth, and your rich people messy, Sirens should be next on your list.
Let’s hope this is only the beginning.
