Carrie and the Politics of Monsters: Flanagan's Adaptation and the Liberal Imagination

Stephen King once confessed he never came to like Carrie White, the telekinetic teenager at the heart of his debut novel. With due respect to the Master of the Macabre, I must dissent. I adore the raw prose and simmering tension of the book; I admire the cruelty of Brian De Palma's 1976 film; I even find something to enjoy in the bombastic spectacle of the Chloë Grace Moretz remake. So my anticipation was considerable when I learned that Mike Flanagan, the preeminent auteur of the horror mini-series and a gifted interpreter of King's work, was developing his own reimagining of this tragic tale. After watching all eight episodes of the new Prime Video series, however, I find myself in a state of profound frustration. This is a dance that ends, alas, in bloodstained disaster.

What is the new Carrie series about?

Flanagan's adaptation drags Carrie White (Summer H. Howell), bloody and screaming, out of the showers of the 1970s and into the 2020s. She is reimagined as a homeschooled recluse, forced out of seclusion when her father dies and compelled to attend high school, much to the chagrin of her domineering mother Margaret (Samantha Sloyan). Unsurprisingly for anyone familiar with the source material, the meek and awkward Carrie quickly becomes a target for the school's bullies, led by the mean-girl alpha Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton). When Carrie discovers her mysterious telekinetic powers, everything changes. It is the same plot you know and love, reenvisioned through a 21st-century lens.

How does Flanagan's adaptation change King's original story?

Adaptations inevitably take creative liberties, and reinvention is key to making stories shine long after their publication. Some of Flanagan's changes work remarkably well. Most notably, this Carrie is considerably more sympathetic than King's version, who was a pitiable but unlikable protagonist prone to branding her bullies 'whores.' Flanagan softens Carrie's more unpleasant traits, which has the twin benefit of making the character someone you can bear to watch for eight episodes while simultaneously highlighting the tragedy of her fall. I had quibbles with this change at first, believing that the original Carrie's prickly edge underlined my rather surface-level interpretation of the novel: that teenagers are monsters. It helps that Howell is so adept at playing Carrie. She bestows the character with a soft sadness and rage that is rather magnificent and totally works for this new iteration.

What is the series' central argument about cruelty and innocence?

Over the course of eight episodes, I came to appreciate the wisdom in Flanagan's choice and Howell's performance. They both make Carrie someone who could have been friends with Chris, someone twisted into something dark and unrecognisable. This allows the viewer to appreciate King's slightly subtler point: we make our own monsters. Flanagan rather cleverly uses Chris, whom Thornton makes impressively mean while remaining understandable, to do this by making her the show's other viewpoint character. Chris's story runs in parallel to Carrie's, and we see how both girls become monsters through abuse, bullying, neglect, humiliation and the influence of parents. The only difference is that Chris's superpower isn't telekinesis; it's an understanding of Instagram hashtags. That might sound glib, but by the end, both Carrie and Chris are very capable of hurting people without laying a finger on them. This is a fascinating and deeply liberal idea: no one is born a cruel bully or a murderous psychopath; we are born innocent, and circumstances beyond our control make us into bad people. It is a civic argument about the social determinants of violence, a reminder that the monsters we fear are often of our own collective making.

Why does the final episode undermine the series' message?

But there is a but so large you could see it from space. Flanagan makes a significant misstep in the final episode that spoils his point. He does something to Carrie, which I am legally barred from explaining, that completely defangs her and undermines the tragedy of her transformation into a prom queen-shaped tornado that lays waste to her town. I cannot lie; I was infuriated. Up until that point, I had loved the show, but that last episode was spoiled for me. This is a real shame because I loved everything else about the series. Sloyan's different but still unhinged take on Margaret is fantastic; I loved the supporting cast, with Matthew Lillard as MVP, and the show looked brilliant. There is a slightly X-Men subplot that I did not appreciate, and a distinct feeling that the show is building a shared universe for Flanagan to play in later, but those are forgivable. It is just that damned ending.

What does the ending reveal about the challenges of adaptation?

There is a grim irony in Flanagan falling at the final hurdle. King is well known for his terrible endings; if you have read The Stand, you know the pain. Perhaps Flanagan really is the perfect person to bring Stephen's twisted tales to life, precisely because he shares his source's greatest flaw. In a liberal society, we value the redemptive arc, the possibility of reform, the belief that no one is beyond salvation. But horror, at its best, reminds us that some falls are irreversible. By softening Carrie's ending, Flanagan inadvertently softens the very argument he spent eight episodes building. The tragedy is not that Carrie becomes a monster; it is that she had no other choice. To rob her of that finality is to rob her of her agency, and in doing so, to undermine the very civic values the series seemed to champion. All eight episodes of Carrie premiere exclusively on Prime Video from October 7.

Frequently asked questions about the new Carrie series

Is the new Carrie series a faithful adaptation of Stephen King's novel?

No, the series takes significant creative liberties with the source material. It modernises the setting to the 2020s, makes Carrie more sympathetic, and adds a parallel narrative for the bully Chris Hargensen. These changes serve to highlight the social and environmental factors that create monsters, a theme central to the liberal interpretation of the story.

Who stars in the new Carrie series on Prime Video?

Summer H. Howell stars as Carrie White, with Samantha Sloyan as her mother Margaret and Alison Thornton as Chris Hargensen. Matthew Lillard also features prominently in the supporting cast. The series is created by Mike Flanagan, known for his acclaimed horror mini-series.

When does the new Carrie series premiere?

All eight episodes of the series premiere exclusively on Prime Video on October 7. The series is available for streaming in full on that date.