If you’ve been scrolling through endless streaming options wondering what could possibly top White Lotus’ mix of sun-drenched decadence and deliciously petty power plays, then meet Sirens.
The cult drama that doesn’t just swipe the formula, it ups the ante with biting wit, real emotional depth, and a cast led by Julianne Moore at her most magnetic and unsettling. And clocking in at just five episodes, it’s all killer, no filler.
Sirens opens with a bang: two estranged sisters, a shadowy cult-like world, and a billionaire villain with all the sinister charm of a hedge fund shark with a soft spot for endangered raptors.
Plot?
Meghann Fahy, fresh off White Lotus but here diving into far meatier material, plays Devon - a barely functioning, sharp-tongued alcoholic juggling a dead-end job, a manipulative married boss, and a father slipping into dementia.
She’s the kind of older sister who’ll send a spicy, “WTF?” text - and then drive halfway across the country to confront her baby sister, Simone (Milly Alcock from House of the Dragon and Upright), who’s currently deep in the orbit of socialite-turned-cult-leader Michaela Kell.
And Michaela? Played by Julianne Moore with an unsettling cocktail of charisma and menace, she’s the puppet master with a raptor sanctuary on the side and a following that’s both creepy and oddly compelling. You want to hate her — but you can’t look away.
Devon’s arrival at Michaela’s high-gloss lair sets off a deliciously chaotic collision of worlds: a gritty working-class past smashing headlong into a surreal, ultra-rich present that’s as stylish as it is sinister.
Add in the slimy hedge fund husband Peter (Kevin Bacon, effortlessly creepy) and the flaky, pathetic best friend Ethan (Glenn Howerton), and you’ve got a recipe for chaos served with a cocktail umbrella.
Why Sirens is different
But Sirens isn’t just about the punchy, sharply observed class warfare and the twisted cult dynamics - critics describe it as a razor-sharp, often hilarious exploration of family, trauma, and the high stakes of loyalty and survival.
Between plot twists that make you gasp and moments of genuinely touching emotional honesty, the series struts a tightrope between farce and drama without ever tipping into nonsense.
What critics say truly sets Sirens apart = and what makes it a better binge than White Lotus - is the brevity and precision of its storytelling.
Five episodes, each tight as a drum, means no filler, no endless circling of the plot, just a rollercoaster ride of clever writing, potent performances, and unexpected depth.
Adapted from Molly Smith Metzler’s own play Elemeno Pea with help from Colin McKenna and Bekah Brunstetter, the show keeps enough theatricality to let the actors stretch their legs in some brilliant monologues but is deeply cinematic and perfectly paced.
Sirens is also surprisingly literate and layered. Beneath the camp and the cult thriller vibes lie sly meditations on wealth and its corrosive effects, on the sacrifices families make, and the lies we tell ourselves to survive.
By the finale, Sirens has pulled off the rarest trick of all: it satisfies emotionally and narratively, while leaving you desperate for more. It doesn’t overstay its welcome, but hints at richer stories to come, making it a genuinely addictive binge.
For anyone jaded by the usual prestige TV fare, or just craving a sharp, funny, and beautifully acted twist on the cult drama genre, Sirens is for you.
Sirens is now streaming on Netflix. Get ready to binge!
