In 2011, Molly Smith Metzler’s play, Elemeno Pea, made its debut. Not in “fancy” New York City, where theater is deemed by many a self-righteous snob as the place where any “legitimate” play or musical ought to be performed, but in Louisville, Kentucky. It then continued its modest production run over the next three years in cities like Costa Mesa, Minneapolis, Charlotte, Los Angeles and Sacramento. In a sense, then, Elemeno Pea is a bit like Simone DeWitt (Milly Alcock) herself—from humble beginnings that transcended into a high-gloss big deal. Smith Metzler adapted the play into such a “high-gloss big deal” of a TV series, in fact, that one would never guess Sirens was originally what she described to Variety as “a five-character, ninety-minute play that happens in one room—the guest house.”
From ninety minutes to roughly five hours (in its new form as a five-episode limited series for Netflix), Elemeno Pea becomes far more epic thanks to that thing that can solve so many problems and make everything so much, well, better (at least where “art projects” are concerned): money. Having a big budget behind Sirens meant, as Smith Metzler added, “…we’re never just in one room. The vibrancy of this world: the cliff, the island, all those visual elements, it was extraordinary to be able to bring them to life.” And part of bringing it all to life was building on the existing characters from the play and throwing in many new ones—including the numerous members of the Cliff House’s staff, led and overseen by Jose (Felix Solis).
Michaela Kell (Julianne Moore) a.k.a. Mrs. Kell a.k.a. “Kiki” (to a select few, including Simone) is, at least in appearance, the head of that massive household. A beachfront property that stretches for acres and even has an impressive aviary. The latter feature being all Michaela’s doing, as she has made it one of her core missions as “Mrs. Kell”—with all the power that title holds—to be a proponent of wildlife conservation, especially for birds. Indeed, after losing her own original identity, rescuing birds like Barnaby, a peregrine falcon she tries to set free in the first episode, “Exile,” becomes her raison d’être. And, as for the expression about rescuing birds with broken wings, it extends to “rescuing” Simone as well. The sad lost soul from the wrong side of the tracks: Buffalo.
During a flashback at the beginning of episode four, “Persephone” (for, like “Exile,” all the titles are dripping with Greek myth allusions, including episode five, “Siren Song”), one of the first “pro tips” Michaela gives Simone during her interview is to tell people she’s from “upstate” instead. So much more elegant. Or, as she says, to seem more relatable as a former déclassé poor girl herself, “I’m from an armpit called Fresno, but I tell everyone ‘Bay Area.’” After becoming Mrs. Kell, she then cultivated and fine-tuned her interests. Which is why the fixation on birds is of no little importance, with Moore commenting of Michaela’s attachment, “These birds, in a sense, had completely lost themselves in the same way that Michaela had lost herself.” Of course, the viewer doesn’t yet know just how lost Michaela’s original identity is, for she seems so “in her skin” in the present. But by the time Simone meets her/becomes her assistant, Michaela has already had thirteen years to “become” Mrs. Kell and make that “skin” fit her own mold. For, prior to Michaela, there was the first Mrs. Kell, Jocelyn. A woman never seen, but often mentioned—almost like a myth. Indeed, the concept of myth versus reality is an omnipresent motif in Sirens. The Greek myth influence also being manifest in the poster artwork for the show, featuring all three women in very “Greek-looking getups” with a painting of a shipwreck behind them (an overt nod to Odysseus) and the tagline, “Not all songs are sweet.”
Another significant aspect of the birds’ symbolism is also related to sirens themselves, with Smith Metzler noting to Variety, “When Homer first describes sirens, he describes them as half-bird, half-woman. Eventually, over time, they became the sexualized mermaid thing, but their original portrayal was half-monster, half-woman.” In “Persephone” (not, surprisingly, “Monster”), that word, “monster,” is bandied at Simone several times by her summer boyfriend-turned-ex, Ethan Corbin III (Glenn Howerton), after she rejects his marriage proposal (despite this initially being something she would have wanted as an earlier summer version of herself). It’s also the word that Peter Kell (Kevin Bacon) eventually uses against Michaela when he decides she’s no longer “what he wants.” Or, in other words, she fails to live up to the projected expectations he had of her all those years ago when they first met. This extends to her inability to conceive a child. And, like the prenup that Bunny MacDougal was trying to saddle Charlotte York with in season three of Sex and the City, the one that Michaela signed makes her essentially only worthy of some form of compensation in the event of a divorce if she can “give” Peter an heir. This, too, is why her bird fanaticism is key. For, as Smith Metzler puts it, “The other part is, Michaela has filled her life with something to mother, something to care about. And I think she might consider herself a rare bird. But they’re also predators. They look very beautiful, but they’ll rip your face out and break your heart and come back and smash your window. They’re not sweet. Sirens are not sweet. They’re half predator.”
Simone, too, is a “wounded bird” for Michaela to mother. And, much as described above, she might look beautiful, but she’ll also break Michaela’s heart and come back to smash her window, so to speak. Meaning, in short, that Simone is ultimately going to destroy Michaela’s nest after being welcomed inside of it by this “mama bird.” To be sure, Simone has been in constant search of a mother figure ever since losing her own to suicide when she was seven years old. For a while, that person was her older sister, Devon (Meghann Fahy). But ever since “finding” Michaela, it seems that it’s rather easy for Simone to forget all about her sister by blood—and everything that Devon sacrificed to ensure Simone’s well-being and success in life.
But Devon refuses to be forgotten, marching right out of her father’s house and catching a bus to Port Haven when she receives an insulting edible arrangement from Simone as a passive aggressive way of saying, “I’m not coming back there to help you.” As for Fahy playing this character—an outsider/glitch in the matrix that shows up to the home of wealthy coastal elites—it does admittedly smack of a Netflix show she was just on last year: The Perfect Couple. And yes, Nicole Kidman and Liev Schreiber’s roles as Greer Garrison and Tag Winbury, respectively, smack of Michaela and Peter Kell, including both husbands’ love of weed. Because, yes, it’s so hard to “cope” with being moneyed, isn’t it?
Upon first arriving, Devon’s crass manner and total contempt for these people and their lifestyle can’t be contained. However, by episode three, her defenses begin to get worn down. Particularly during a scene that almost feels as though it should be part of a dream sequence. This occurs in episode three, “Monster,” in an instance that further adds to the false notion that there is something “magical” or “otherworldly” about Michaela. Almost as if she really is a mermaid or siren, using her voice to ensnare and enchant others. In fact, after Devon wakes up from a weed nap (thanks to smoking with Peter), she wanders through the house in search of any sign of life, drawn to Michaela’s bathroom where Devon finds her naked in the tub. “Like what you see?” Michaela asks, adding to the feeling that this must be a dream. Devon replies, “I thought I heard singing.” Singing that she was inexplicably drawn to—the mark of the siren’s hypnotic power (as best elucidated in The Odyssey). But no, as it turns out, this is no dream. And yet, Michaela is able to miraculously put her finger on Devon’s nose (in boop fashion) and seemingly transport her into the back of a car with her minions, Lisa (Erin Neufer), Cloe (Jenn Lyon) and Astrid (Emily Borromeo). As Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s “WAP” blasts loudly, Devon appears to have no idea how she got into this place. Almost as if Michaela put her in a trance for so long that she didn’t notice where she was going until now. And yet, this is, for some strange reason (or perhaps just a bold stylistic choice that only happened once), the lone instance of Michaela exhibiting something akin to having literal magical powers.
Of course, this is likely Smith Metzler’s statement not only on how women of a certain class and aesthetic are viewed by those who don’t embody it, but also on the subject of being a cultlike figure. For this, too, is another ongoing theme of the series. And the idea that Michaela is running a cult in a more literal sense is planted in the second episode, “Talons.” After Devon gets put in jail by Michaela for trespassing on her property, she encounters a cellmate named Lily-Rose (Catherine Cohen). It’s she who clues Devon in on the long-swirling rumor about how Michaela “murdered” Jocelyn, with the legend going that she pushed her off the cliff outside Cliff House. She then leans forward to use that word again, saying, “I’m telling you, she’s a monster.” Devon then asks, “Have you heard anything about it being a cult?” Lily-Rose replies that it most definitely is, but, then again, she thinks everything is a cult because she used to be in NXIVM. Upon hearing this, it occurs to Devon that if Lily-Rose was once in a cult, then she must know how to get out. Lily-Rose tells her that her dad infiltrated the organization pretending to be glamored by it and freed her that way.
Devon takes that bit of advice and decides to play nice with Michaela, saying sweet siren nothings to her and telling her she wants to be “helped” the same way as Simone. Having seen the way that her sister and so many others fall at their feet to impress Michaela, Devon figures she can only appeal to the “cult leader” by pretending to be one of her devoted acolytes. To that end, Smith Metzler noted of the joy of this adaptation, “There are so many things we hear about onstage but don’t get to see, like how many people worship Michaela. It’s one thing to hear about that onstage, but we don’t get to see it in person. Everything got wider, deeper, more layered, more lush, more pastel, more cult.” And yet, like Michaela having some kind of “supernatural” pull, that notion of “cult” is meant to be more figurative than literal. As Milly Alcock explained to TV Insider, “It’s not actually about a cult. It’s more a commentary on how class is a cult, how wellness is a cult, how certain industries build this big following. I think that, by nature, you kind of get enamored by people with a lot of money because of the promise of what they can provide for you.”
This is why Port Haven, although fictional, is the ideal backdrop to convey this sense of unattainable privilege. And yes, it’s based on elite, insular East Coast islands like Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard, though most of the show was shot on Long Island. There’s even a dash of Buffalo thrown in before Devon high-tails it to Port Haven to admonish her sister in person for ignoring her texts and effectively refusing to help her take care of their father, Bruce (Bill Camp), who has been diagnosed with early-onset dementia. Unfortunately for Devon, Simone feels nothing in the way of “daughterly obligation” to care for him, as he never cared for her when she was a child. Worse than that, he totally neglected her, never feeding her or making sure she was clean enough for “public consumption” (a.k.a. going to school). His extreme neglect stemmed from a spike in his alcoholism and depression after his wife killed herself. And it finally got to the point where Simone was put into foster care and, as the tragic cliché goes, sexually abused by the various people whose “care” she found herself in. By the time Devon decided to drop out of college and come back home to rescue her sister, a lot of the irrevocable psychological damage had been done.
Even so, there’s no denying that Simone would have been so much worse off if her sister had decided to keep being selfish. To follow Michaela’s oft-repeated adage, “If it doesn’t serve you, let it go.” A concept that Simone not only starts to take a little too much to heart, but that will also extremely backfire when Michaela comes to understand that she’s the “thing” that no longer “serves” Peter. In the final episode, “Siren Song,” this so-called platitude comes back around in a manner that allows Devon to tell Simone, “You didn’t serve me, and I didn’t let you go.” And that, because of this life-altering decision, she was never prouder of herself. But maybe now, after continuing to make these continuous grand gestures and sacrifices for Simone, she can see that the limits of their sisterly bonds have been tested to their fullest extent. Because maybe Devon just doesn’t want to be close anymore with someone who could do something so savage to Michaela after feigning all that “sisterly” love for her. In the end, deciding that it was time for the student to surpass the teacher and shove Michaela aside to become the third Mrs. Kell.
Except that, as is Smith Metzler’s intent, it isn’t cut-and-dried as all that. Simone isn’t meant to be viewed as a full-stop villain or “monster.” Indeed, even Michaela tells Devon on the ferry back to the mainland that Simone isn’t that at all. She’s merely fulfilling the role she’s been cast in, based on circumstances that collided. Once upon a time, Michaela, too, was willing to sacrifice everything for that role, jettisoning her law career to take on “Mrs. Kell” full-time. Who knows, maybe, Smith Metzler was inspired by Moore’s “lawyering” in 2004’s Laws of Attraction, wherein she plays a high-powered divorce lawyer named Audrey Woods. It was also in 2004, incidentally, that the remake of The Stepford Wives, starring Nicole Kidman, came out. A film that highlights not only how easy it is for a woman to lose her identity when she gets married, but also how much her husband wants her to. Even despite insisting, I want you to still have your own life at the outset of things. But, as Michaela confesses to Simone in episode four, “Persephone,” she never intended to get so lost in this role. It just happened, inevitably. She was the one seduced not just by Peter (or, as Michaela phrases it, “lovebombed by a billionaire”), but by what it would mean to become his wife. Alas, even after this impassioned pep talk, Simone still can’t resist the urge to be “taken care of” (in the way that she never was as a child) by Peter when the opportunity presents itself. And that, it would seem, is more shocking and unforgivable in terms of being a testament to her character than anything else Devon has watched her do thus far.
She could even tolerate the coldness of Simone blatantly ignoring their code word for emergency, “sirens.” But not seeing her treat Michaela so coldly in the end. In truth, she becomes the victim instead of the villain by the time the final episode rolls around. But up until that point, like everyone else in Michaela’s orbit, the viewer is also conditioned to see her as nothing more than a two-dimensional monster, an outright bitch. Or is it really that she doesn’t fulfill the oversimplified expectations of how a woman “should be”? Soft, dainty, never rude, always polite. All of these being descriptions that don’t fit Devon at all. And yet, she turns out to be the most decent person out of everyone.
As for the abovementioned code word and how it doubles as the meaning of a “harmful or dangerous” woman, Smith Metzler told Variety, “These sisters have a code word—in the play, it’s ‘Elemeno Pea,’ which is the name of the play and there’s a whole story behind why that’s the code word. In the show, ‘sirens’ being their code word, it’s the ultimate ‘911, drop everything, I need you.’ When I was writing the Greek mythology element and naming the show Sirens, in the script, I had them text each other the sirens emoji. It came from a subconscious place—maybe instead of the emoji, it’s the word ‘sirens,’ and then we get to have this beautiful double meaning.” And there is so often a double meaning in everything. Much the same as women do not contain just one meaning, but multitudes. And yet, men and women alike still do their best to confine and relegate them to a single role or stereotype.
