“You’re in a cult,” says Devon (Meghan Fahy) to her sister Simone (Milly Alcock) in the opening episode of Netflix’s Sirens. Simone’s boss, billionaire housewife Michaela Kell (Julianne Moore), is leading a group poem recital on her lavish island estate, banging a wooden sceptre in front of an audience. This isn’t the first weird thing Devon has observed after tracking down Simone at work in response to a string of ignored texts. Michaela’s staff – chefs, gardeners, security and dozens of others – fall silent when Michaela’s name is mentioned. It turns out they’re under an NDA. There are also cameras almost everywhere, tracking their every movement. Staff gather in a dead spot out back to eat bagels and doughnuts, since carbs are banned on the premises. “Be careful here, sis,” one staff member ominously warns Devon.
Sirens, adapted by showrunner Molly Smith Metzler from her 2011 play Elemeno Pea, sets itself up as a show about a cult. Across its five episodes – which follow Simone’s life as Michaela’s loyal assistant and Devon’s attempts to “free” her – the dark comedy series slowly peels back layer after layer of the strangeness that surrounds Michaela, promising something deeply sinister is at its core. It feels particularly of-the-moment: the concept of the “modern-day cult” currently looms large over our collective psyche. Beyond Sirens, streaming sites are peppered with popular cult stories that offer morbid intrigue, from Netflix’s Escaping Twin Flames to HBO’s The Vow. Cinema is just as rife with fictions of bizarre, deadly cults – films such as Get Out, Midsommar, or this year’s Opus.
