Brace yourself: Sirens has landed on Netflix, and it’s five episodes of unhinged, irresistible fun. Equal parts psychological drama, class satire, and twisted family saga, this limited series is the perfect blend of bite and binge, anchored by a gloriously unsettling Julianne Moore at the height of her powers.
Moore plays Michaela “Kiki” Kell, a wealthy socialite, falcon enthusiast, and—depending on who you ask—a cult leader in designer kaftans. She rules over a gilded coastal compound with the calm menace of someone who believes she’s saving the world one raptor at a time. Into her orbit steps Simone (Milly Alcock), a young personal assistant who’s dazzled by the opulence—and perhaps dangerously under her boss’s spell.
Enter Devon (Meghann Fahy, brilliantly chaotic), Simone’s older sister and reluctant hero. Jaded, broke, recently sober, and furious after receiving a fruit basket instead of actual help when their father is diagnosed with dementia, Devon storms into her sister’s life with all the grace of a bull in a beachfront villa. Her mission? Drag Simone out of Michaela’s clutches—whether she wants to leave or not.
What follows is part The White Lotus, part Big Little Lies, and a whole lot of glossy, darkly comedic chaos. Add in Kevin Bacon as Michaela’s hedge fund husband, Glenn Howerton as the dangerously charming best friend, and a running gag with the local police that ends in the drunk tank—this is prestige TV turned delightfully feral.
But Sirens isn’t all sparkle and satire. As the story unfolds, the bond between the sisters deepens, unearthing childhood trauma, class resentment, and the fine line between love and manipulation. It’s camp with consequence, absurd yet grounded, and shot through with sharp dialogue and theatrical monologues (because yes, this began life as a play).
The finale sticks the landing and still leaves room for more. If there’s any justice, we’ll be getting a second season. For now, let Sirens seduce you—just don’t stand too close to a cliff. Or a falcon. Or Julianne Moore.
