'Sirens' review: Ancient allusions and modern power collide in Netflix's latest
Netflix’s Sirens, a five-part limited series created by Molly Smith Metzler (Maid), explores mythology through the lens of 21st-century wealth and gendered power. Blending classical allegory with dark satire, the series features a stellar ensemble led by Julianne Moore, Meghann Fahy, and Milly Alcock—but uneven tone and scattered narrative threads leave its potential unfulfilled.
Milly Alcock and Julianne Moore in 'Sirens.'
Courtesy of Netflix
Opening with Michaela Kell (Moore) releasing a falcon on a cliff’s edge, the series conjures immediate parallels to the mythological Sirens—half-bird, half-woman creatures who lured sailors to their deaths. The metaphor is rich, but the delivery is often muddled. Michaela becomes a modern-day goddess presiding over Cliff House, an elite seaside estate where servants orbit the whims of billionaires.
Two sisters, Devon (Fahy) and Simone (Alcock), anchor the narrative. Their code word “Sirens” signals emergencies—an apt reflection of the show’s underlying themes of female distress and erasure. Devon, fresh from a stint in jail, travels to confront Simone, who has become absorbed into the wealthy world she once criticized. Her transformation—new hair, new nose, new boyfriend—signals deeper abandonment of self.
Throughout the series, allusions to Greek mythology are layered thickly. From a virtual assistant named Zeus to pointed dialogue about monsters and illusions, the writing tries to elevate the story beyond domestic drama. Unfortunately, this mythological framing is rarely coherent. Instead of enhancing the plot, the references often feel like decorative clutter.
Efforts to blend genres result in dissonance. The show moves from melodrama to thriller to social farce, seldom hitting the right notes. In one moment, characters debate raptor conservation in lieu of intimacy; in another, Simone’s acolytes sing “WAP” in a synchronized chant. While Metzler’s previous work Maid expertly fused pain and satire, here the fusion lacks consistency.
Performance remains the series’ greatest strength. Fahy delivers with remarkable control, portraying Devon with a mix of cynicism and suppressed hope. Moore channels a New Age eccentricity that recalls roles previously owned by Nicole Kidman. Alcock continues her streak of haunted elegance, hinting at the cost of reinventing oneself to survive privilege.
Secondary characters offer glimpses of nuance, especially Felix Solis as property manager Jose. However, much of the ensemble feels underwritten, serving themes rather than stories. Attempts to show a full upstairs/downstairs dichotomy remain superficial, undercutting the show’s critique of class dynamics.
Visually, director Nicole Kassell sets a striking tone early on, distinguishing characters through lighting and palette. These choices fade in later episodes, leaving the show’s visual style as disjointed as its narrative. Composer Michael Abels contributes a dreamlike score that also wanes in impact as the plot unravels.
What could have been a sharp, myth-fueled allegory on power and identity becomes an ambitious but unfocused experience. The show gestures toward critiques of performative philanthropy and billionaire worship, but lacks the precision or depth to follow through. Dialogue-heavy scenes bog down the pace, making even its short five-hour runtime feel longer than necessary.
The decision to root the story in Greek mythology adds a clever conceptual layer, but without emotional resonance or tonal cohesion, it becomes more motif than meaning. Stories like The Changeling or Kaos tread similar ground with varying success, but Sirens feels more like a cautionary tale about overextension.
In moments of clarity—particularly when Fahy is onscreen—Sirens reveals what it could have been: a poignant study of sisterhood, wealth, and mythic seduction. Instead, the final result is a hollow echo of its own ambition.
Final Verdict:
Sirens is an ambitious series that fuses myth, money, and melodrama. Despite brilliant performances and sharp ideas, it falters under the weight of its thematic overload.
