There are clear skies in a lovely little Northern Ireland town, and John Paul “The Prick” Williams is dead.
It’s no surprise who killed JP (Claes Bang): his four tight–knit sisters–in–law, who are now, in the aftermath of the murder, constantly on edge and desperately hoping that they’ll be able to get away with their crime without the police getting involved. It’s also no surprise why they did it, either; they’ve spent over a decade watching him suck the life out of their sister, Grace (Anne–Marie Duff), verbally abusing her and displaying flippant, arrogant cruelty to almost everyone else in his life.
The mystery of the show, therefore, is how the titular Garvey sisters pull it off … or, rather, which murder attempt finally succeeds. And, as the timeline jumps back and forth between the ongoing homicide scheme and the present–day fallout of JP’s death, whether a pair of near–bankrupt life insurance agents (Brian Gleeson and Daryl McCormack) will be able to avoid paying out the Williams family’s claim by finding evidence of foul play.
Bad Sisters takes all of the heart–stopping (literally) suspense of a thriller and nestles it into the captivating domestic world we might more commonly think a sitcom would land. Sharon Horgan produces and stars in the show as eldest sister Eva Garvey, and her unconventional formula for thriller–writing successfully provides a character–driven show. The tight plot and brilliant script push the beats of the show along, but out of the cracks emerges witty, natural dialogue that writes itself through the dynamic ensemble and the characters’ strong, protective relationships with one another. It's especially effective to viewers that understand the complex dynamics of growing into adulthood with their siblings.
Bad Sisters is more than a fun premise and a good story. It’s common for show runners to write about dysfunctional families and backstabbing siblings—the cutthroat family at the core of Succession comes to mind immediately—and healthy sibling love can be rarer to find on screen. The show’s premise is not some arbitrary family drama; it stems from a collective sisterly compulsion to rescue one of their own from incessant abuse before it’s too late, and all of the tiny revelations regarding adult sisterhood that emerge from there.
I tend to have a soft spot for TV shows that I watched with my parents. They got divorced in 2020 when I was 15, old enough to fully understand what was happening and why it was ultimately for the best. I entered into a very amiable Sunday to Sunday joint custody agreement, and my houses are tied to the different lives I lived in each, including the shows that punctuated a few months at a time: Game of Thrones and Westworld on the arm of my dad’s living room couch in ruminative awe, Grace and Frankie and Ted Lasso cross–legged on my mom’s bed and dying of laughter. I grew into an adult in those houses, my education on adult issues supplemented by the media that I consumed.
Two years ago, I watched Bad Sisters in a hotel room in Florida with my mom and aunt. My mom is the third of four daughters, and I could see her and my aunt resonating in real time with the five Garvey sisters, and the way they rely on their love and trust in each other as they navigate dangerous situations. You underestimate the impact that fictional characters can really have until they’re holding up a mirror on you and your own relationships—what you appreciate, what you love, what you wish was different. I still believe that for my mother, there was no show better made. Watching her internally ponder and heal some of her own nuanced sibling relationships through the themes of Bad Sisters was just as rewarding to me as watching a bunch of slightly–nuts women brainstorm ways to kill their brother–in–law.
But you don’t need a familial tie to fall in love with Bad Sisters. Anyone can identify with one of the disparate character niches—the prudent eldest, the candid wild–card, the conflicted peacekeeper, the free–spirited baby … or even Grace Williams, cowed inside her abusive marriage. Once you’re drawn into the world of the show, you’ll be wishing you could have a drink with the charmingly chaotic Garvey sisters, wondering if the insurance men will ever catch onto the scheme, and, inevitably, groaning in frustration that “The Prick” has thwarted his death yet again.
While there’s an argument to be made that it’s lazy and low–hanging fruit to write JP as a one–dimensional tyrant who wreaks havoc on the lives of everyone around him, this totally overlooks just how fun it can be to band together against a shared evil—especially within sibling relationships. In an interview with Vanity Fair, Sharon Horgan speaks on how JP’s characterization made this first season work so well:
“There was a group catharsis that came from everyone hating on the same piece of shit. Especially at that time, with everything that was happening politically in the world, it seemed to just bring everyone together.”
In a continuous onslaught of media content, it can be easy for good shows to fly under the radar, so stumbling upon the ones that do new things well is like finding a diamond in the rough. Plot–wise, Bad Sisters put a refreshing spin on the tried–and–true murder mystery formula, starting from the ending and working backward to reveal the story piece by piece. Despite being a thriller, viewers can come to expect a rhythm in the way the events unfold throughout the episodes; genuine plot twists are few and far between, their shock value landing twice as hard (and if you’re in a clue-catching mood, don’t skip the intro!).
It’s worth noting that Bad Sisters had the appearance of a mini–series as its first season closed out the insular storyline of JP’s death. Therefore, some viewers have mixed thoughts on the impending second season, excited to see beloved characters again but wondering how the story will continue on without simply rehashing the same structure that made season one so interesting and unique. In that same interview, Horgan outlines her plans to explore what might happen post-investigation and bring drama and chaos back into the sisters’ lives. In the aftermath of a traumatic experience, season two seems to be asking, as Horgan does, “How do you just get on with life?”
Honestly, I don’t know. But all TV fans at some point have to sit back and trust that the creators of the show that captured their hearts the first time will be able to continue their momentum. And with their scheming days behind them for now, as a united front once again, I’m excited to see what the Garveys are up to next.
