Within minutes of meeting Summer H. Howell as Carrietta “Carrie” White, I was telling my friends how adorable she is. I might’ve even deemed her a “cutie patootie.” But at the same time, I realized this Amazon Prime limited series likely won’t be the “faithful” adaptation fans have longed for.
At the crux of Stephen King’s novel is a bullied and conventionally unattractive high school girl. Some purists even took issue with Sissy Spacek’s iconic performance as Carrie in Brian De Palma’s 1976 film adaptation. But as the credits rolled on the last episode of Mike Flanagan’s (The Haunting of Hill House, Doctor Sleep) miniseries, I reached my own conclusion: I didn’t care. I loved every minute of it.
Does the quality of an adaptation rest solely on how faithful it is to its original work? I don’t think so. Flanagan has successfully reimagined a text from 1974 for a 2026 audience. He modernizes the story, emphasizing one of the most horrific decisions in recent history: allowing smartphones in high schools.
Carrie’s main story beats are still there. She’s still an overly sheltered teenager. She’s taunted and pelted with tampons when she gets her first period in gym class. And she is, of course, telekinetic. Unfortunately for her, this is all documented by a sinister social media page under the name “CarrieRed.” The page taunts not only Carrie, but everyone at Ewen High School.
Carrie and her mother, Margaret (Samantha Sloyan), are discovered hiding in a prayer closet after the death of patriarch Ralph White (Tahmoh Penikett). The Whites, up until Ralph’s death, lived off the grid, and were known as a “cult of three.” Carrie had been homeschooled by her mother. With the intervention of social services looming over the two, Carrie is thrust into the treachery of high school.
The perils of adolescent life can be hard to portray without turning key players into caricatures. The cartoonishly evil nature of King’s characters could lead to high camp. Carrie succeeds where shows like Riverdale faltered —imagining a world plagued by the perils of adolescence with a supernatural flair. Flanagan’s art doesn’t lean into soapy teen dramas, nor does it make way for cartoonish or camp villains.
This Carrie features a villain more evil than any movie monster, Christine “Chris” Hargensen (Alison Thornton). Where Carrie’s stress and anger are released through telekinesis, Chris finds release in cruelty.
Unbeknownst to her peers, a once-affluent Chris is dealing with her parents’ pending divorce. Her father, an influential lawyer, is also facing financial woes — which threatens the possibility of Chris going to Duke University with her best friend Sue Snell (Siena Agudong). Sue, asked by her mother to watch out for and be kind to Carrie, is meant to be the more compassionate and endearing one of the pair, but she’s quite passive, and even a bit annoying at times. That’s the beauty of Flanagan’s Carrie, though. Eight episodes open the door for nuance, with more fleshed-out characters.
Margaret White is probably the best example of this. She is the most obvious villain, being solely defined by religious fundamentalism. Sloyan’s Margaret still shudders at the thought of sexual immorality (and now aspartame), but her inclination to protect her daughter from the world can sometimes be endearing.
Margaret becomes an integral part in Chris’ takedown, which culminates in her ban from prom. Though this is the catalyst for Carrie’s infamous breakdown, you ultimately yearn for the reckoning — somewhat siding with Margaret despite her flaws. Her shortcomings are still evident, and at times glaring. But Sloyan brings such depth to Margaret that she can’t easily be written off as solely antagonistic.
Flanagan’s miniseries is a great October treat. Carrie asks the viewer to reckon with new and at times confusing emotions that no previous iterations sparked. But the central question of whether Carrie is a monster or hero still remains. Is her revenge a self-serving act of vengeance, or is it the result of a powerful telepath having a garden variety teenage meltdown? That’s up to you to decide.
Carrie is streaming on Amazon Prime.
