I was 4 or 5 years old; it was Christmas Eve. I was at my grandparents’ house in the Albany Park neighborhood of Chicago. My mother, Kathleen, and her sisters—Maureen, Eileen, Patricia and Virginia Mary (we are Irish-American, of course)—were doing an elaborate performance of the carol “O Holy Night” for the family, replete with choreography, including an ever-so-dramatic, fall-to-the-knees-in-unison moment when the lyrics insist on that posture.
When the song concluded, my mom and her sisters proceeded to collapse on the living room carpet in laughter, and soon after, another song came on the record player, probably that late 1970s hit, “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge, and they danced. However, of this I cannot be certain. What I am certain of is that while my mother and her sisters, who I have since labeled “the coven”—which I mean in the best possible way—had an audience, such as it was, of myself, my cousins, my grandparents and whatever husbands happened to be around, they didn’t need an audience. They had one another, and that was enough. That has always been enough for them.
There may have been particular moments in time when my mother and her sisters were labeled “bad sisters” by some husband or in-law, and perhaps rightfully so. However, like the titular heroines of the Irish TV series of the same name on Apple TV, there is so much more to their story than what meets the eye.
“Bad Sisters” just completed its second season, having premiered in 2022. Based on the Belgian series “Clan,” from 2012, “Bad Sisters” adds a decidedly Celtic spin to its Flemish ancestor, as it proves to be equal parts thriller and black comedy, in the great tradition of Irish gallows humor.
The show follows the titular “Bad” siblings, the Garvey sisters. Eva (Sharon Horgan) is the eldest and the surrogate mother of the group after the early demise of both parents. The fragile Grace (Anne-Marie Duff) is married to the deliciously villainous John Paul (Claes Bang), the principal target of the sisters’ ire. Ursula (Eva Birthistle) is a nurse and mother of three whose access to pharmaceuticals of all kinds proves to be both useful and ultimately perilous for all involved. Bibi (Sarah Greene), who sports a patch after losing an eye in a car accident with John Paul, is the instigator of the quest to kill her brother-in-law. Finally, there is Becka (Eve Hewson), the baby of the family, full of all the preciousness and impetuousness that position brings, and whose healthy libido frequently complicates her sisters’ agendas.
The series was created by the British-born, Irish-raised Horgan, along with the Americans Dave Finkel and Brett Baer. Horgan is perhaps best known for creating and starring with American comedian Rob Delaney in the critically acclaimed British series “Catastrophe” ( 2015-19, now streaming on Amazon). As both showrunner and actor on “Bad Sisters,” Horgan has fingerprints all over the show, which she describes as what happens when women will no longer put up with “the bad choices of bad men impacting [their] lives.”
Indeed, “Bad Sisters” is very much a feminist piece in its analysis of the ways in which patriarchal systems and structures still suffocate and constrain women. Yet the series’ writing is consistently deft enough in its ideology, and quick enough in both pacing and wit, to never make its audience feel like it’s being lectured to. While the “Bad Sisters” endgame might be empowerment and enlightenment for the viewer, its audience will have a great time along the way.
The bottom line is that “Bad Sisters” is really fun viewing. While the show is superficially about Eva, Ursula, Bibi and Becka’s attempts to kill their brother-in-law John Paul, whom they casually and not so-endearingly refer to as “the Prick,” “Bad Sisters” is so much more than that, as its greatest asset is in its providing an in-depth, often-hilarious and frequently poignant view of that particular relationship that exists between sisters. This is due in no small part to the collaborative effort of actors and writers in creating fully embodied, female characters, whose own desires and needs drive the narrative and are not in service to any male character—save of course, the desire to kill one…or two.
“Bad Sisters” echoes not only its Belgian fore-mother series but also other female ensemble series of television’s past, notably “Desperate Housewives” and “Big Little Lies,” as it captures the humor of the former series with the pathos and the performance-quality of the latter. With that said, “Bad Sisters” is, like each of its five titular characters, uniquely its own.
“Bad Sisters” manages the tricky maneuver of making a group of people plotting a murder over a prolonged period of time sympathetic. The show is able to garner the audience’s affection for its protagonists by continually focusing on the interactions between the sisters, while also emphasizing the vileness of John Paul’s character. You cannot help but find yourself rooting for his demise, as he commits one unspeakably malicious act after another upon everyone and anyone in his path. Claes Bang gives an outstanding performance as the irredeemable villain, a bad man who continually makes bad choices while showing no remorse.
It cannot be mere coincidence that the primary villain of a female-driven Irish series is named after a recent pontiff (well, technically two), and while the primary focus of overt feminist critique in the series is on law enforcement, for a nation like Ireland, still very much attempting to understand its complex relationship with the Catholic Church as revelations of clerical abuse continue to come forward, the very premise of “Bad Sisters” stands as a criticism of Ireland’s Catholic heritage. Grace, the wife of John Paul, is the only sister solely confined to the domestic sphere in keeping with traditional Catholic teaching. In contrast, Ursula is having an extramarital affair, Bibi is married to a woman, and Eva and Becka are both single and sexually active. But it is more than just their sexuality that stands in opposition to Ireland’s Irish Catholic legacy. These women are independent agents who learned long ago they neither need nor can rely on men. Who they can rely on is one another. That has always been enough for them.
While it could be argued that the depiction of the various male characters in the series is frequently either one-dimensional or emasculating, perhaps it is both necessary and overdue that male characters be diminished and objectified, especially in the Irish television and film context—where men have long had a hegemony over content production.
Ideology aside, “Bad Sisters” is a celebration of both sisterhood and female relationships at large. The show presents the story of five fascinating women as they fight for and with one another in a society that is not constructed primarily for their benefit. Before it is a thriller, before it is a dark comedy, “Bad Sisters” is a love story. It is the story of the unbreakable bond between not two but five people through the course of a lifetime. The series discloses the lengths that those who truly love will go to save their beloved. “Bad Sisters” shows that the passion, fury, devotion and care usually reserved for romantic love in TV and films can also be found in the familial bond.
