It’s not often that a stage play becomes the genesis of a five-hour prestige TV series. For Molly Smith Metzler, the Emmy-nominated creator of Maid, her latest project, Sirens—now streaming on Netflix—was born not from a best-selling novel or franchise IP, but from a modest five-character play she wrote as a student at Juilliard.
Back then, it was called Elemeno Pea, and it took place in a single room. Fifteen years later, it’s become a limited series about women, wealth, trauma, class, and identity—set on a billionaire’s island estate. Metzler spoke with Creative Screenwriting Magazine about adapting her play into an expansive television series.
The Freedom of Adapting Your Own Work
When asked what it’s like adapting her own play versus someone else’s material (like Maid), Metzler makes one thing clear: there’s a liberating lack of preciousness.
When you write the IP, it’s really fun because it’s very freeing. I wasn’t precious about it at all. I kept the five core characters. Everything else? I let go and started again.
The Significance of the Title
The series’ title doesn’t originate from the play, but from a conversation with Metzler’s young daughter, who was studying Greek mythology. “She was asking, ‘What’s their deal? Why do sirens want to kill sailors?’ It hit me—we only know sirens through the sailors’ stories. We never hear from the women.”
Molly Smith Metzler. Photo by Mariah Tauger
That spark became a central metaphor for the show: a reframing of how society labels certain women as monstrous. Sirens invites viewers to flip the lens, consider context, and explore what it means to be seen as dangerous simply for existing outside the boundaries of expectation.
From One Room to a Billionaire’s Private Island
Where the play took place in a single room, the series unfolds on an extravagant, isolated island owned by the powerful Kell family. This shift wasn’t just about scope—it was about theme.
We’re talking about the 1% in a way that’s visual. The height of the island. The impossible beauty. How hard it is to get there. The world itself became a character.
Crucially, the series introduces Peter Kell, the billionaire patriarch played by Kevin Bacon, who wasn’t even in the original play. His warmth and relatability obscure his immense power—until the final moments, when the mask slips. “We forget he’s the most powerful person in the room—until he reminds us.”
The Core Relationship: Sisters; Same Parents, Different Lives
At its heart, Sirens is a story of two fraught sisters Devon (Meghann Fahy) and Simone (Milly Alcock). Like many great TV sibling dynamics (Succession, Better Things, Fleabag), the constant push-pull of their relationship animates the entire series.
Nobody knows you like your sister. These two are dealing with the same trauma, but one says, ‘I can change. Goodbye.’ The other says, ‘You may not change. Come back.’
Their relationship blends sisterhood with a layer of mother-daughter dynamic (Devon is Simone’s older sister and surrogate mother), a reflection of shared grief over the loss of their mother. Simone has escaped to land her dream job and Devon is stuck in Buffalo taking care of their father Bruce (Bill Camp) with dementia. Their decisions—who they become, what they reject—track the central question of the series Can you outrun your past?
Mikaela/ Kiki Kell: The Show’s ‘Siren’ in Chief
Mikaela (Julianne Moore’s) is the series’ most enigmatic, tortured, and textured character. A former successful lawyer from Fresno, California, now positioned as the glossy matriarch of the Kell estate, she is both captivating and contradictory; generous yet selfish, warm yet cold. She spends her days organizing fundraisers and galas, contributing to bird conservation, and molding Simone into her meticulous protégée.
Kiki builds this life around Peter, and it’s false. She’s told herself a story about who she is—but when that story collapses, she’s left with nothing.
Sirens cleverly introduces Mikaela through gossip and distant POV, slowly shifting perspective until we’re in her world. This narrative “bait and switch” relies on actor Julieanne Moore’s ability to transform our perception of Michaela over time. “We needed someone who could sell the myth and the woman behind it,” Metzler explains.
Birds, Power, and Predators
Michaela’s love of birds—especially a rare one named Barnaby—isn’t just a character quirk. It’s metaphor. “Sirens were originally half-women, half-birds. Predators, gargoyles,” Metzler remarks. “Over time they became mermaids, which is weirdly sanitized.”
In her birds, Michaela sees herself: elegant, dangerous, caged. They also give her a purpose, a way to nurture when motherhood didn’t pan out as she hoped And, like her, they’re beautiful creatures who might turn on you at any moment.
Inside the Writers’ Room
While plot and pacing are critical in any writers’ room, Metzler and her staff focused daily on one thing, “we can’t control what Simone does at the end—but we can control how we get there.”
They worked meticulously on when to reveal information, building empathy and understanding, even if not always agreement.
They also centered conversations around class and trauma.
You can’t outrun trauma. All these characters are dealing with it, whether they’re waitstaff or billionaires. The show’s about what you bury, and what comes back to bury you.
The setting itself—a seductive, cult-like manifestation of wealth—became a metaphor for power’s allure and devastating cost.
The Endgame
The series ends with betrayals and reckonings. Michaela is exiled by her husband via a simple decree of divorce after discovering her insurance policy (blackmail material) to secure the permanence of her marriage. Simone is stepping into Michaela’s designer shoes and taking over as the lady of the estate. And Devon retreats to Buffalo to take care of their dad with dementia.
But that final ferry ride—the one with Michaela and Simone—is ambiguous by design. It’s hopeful, full of possibilities, because neither knows the next chapter in their lives. “We tried a lot of different takes,” Metzler reveals. “The one we picked, Julie has this Mona Lisa smile. She really doesn’t know what comes next.”
That uncertainty is the point. The characters are experienced now, no longer innocent. Whether Simone’s transformation into “Lady Macbeth” is triumphant or tragic is left to the viewer. “I want the audience to debate it. Do we root for her or fear for her? That question is the show.”
As she puts it, “You can’t escape who you are. But you can rewrite the story.”
Advice to Writers Using The Playwright’s Mindset
For those wanting to write rich, ensemble dramas like Sirens, Metzler offers some pieces of advice:
- Write it like a play.
Start with the room. Start with character. Plays force you to build from the inside out. - Embrace tonal complexity.
People will say you can’t be funny and sad in the same show. That’s wrong. Great writing is both. - Revisit your own voice.
Find what’s still alive in it. And, like Metzler, give it the screen it deserves.
