Mike Flanagan’s decision to revisit Stephen King’s Carrie initially seemed unnecessary. King’s 1974 debut novel was adapted into Brian De Palma’s defining 1976 film, while later attempts—including The Rage: Carrie 2, the 2002 television film and the 2013 remake—failed to escape its shadow.
Flanagan has already demonstrated a strong understanding of King through Gerald’s Game, The Life of Chuck and Doctor Sleep. His television work on Midnight Mass, The Fall of the House of Usher and The Haunting of Hill House has also established him as a gifted horror storyteller. Even so, another Carrie adaptation invited an obvious question: why return to a story that had already been told so well?
After eight episodes, the answer is clear. This version has its own ideas. It is not flawless, particularly in its final episode, but Amazon Prime’s Carrie is an unexpectedly ambitious and frequently brilliant reworking of familiar material.
A series that knows its audience
Spoilers follow for the 2026 series. The opening episode immediately acknowledges that viewers already know the broad outline. A news report shows the aftermath of the prom, with the school destroyed, parts of the town burning and many people dead. Sue Snell is interviewed, while brief images show Carrie covered in pig’s blood.
There is no attempt to pretend that the audience has forgotten the story of a bullied teenager, a violently religious mother, a first period and emerging telekinetic abilities. The series understands that viewers know where the story is heading, and it uses that knowledge as a starting point rather than a problem.
By the end of the premiere, the series reveals its larger ambition. Each following episode opens with sardonic narration from Kate Siegel, exploring the history of women with supernatural abilities being dismissed as frauds or condemned as witches. The narration also introduces the possibility of an organised group of powered women who know about Carrie, a major departure from King’s novel.
Summer H. Howell and Samantha Sloyan lead a strong cast
Summer H. Howell brings an affecting innocence to Carrie. The show updates her isolation for the present day without relying on the bluntness of some earlier adaptations. Her father dies during the first episode, but his presence has already shaped the family: he kept Margaret and Carrie off the grid, avoiding official records because of his anti-government conspiratorial beliefs.
The family’s religious background is also reworked. Instead of presenting Margaret’s beliefs as straightforward Catholic extremism, the series gives them a more contemporary, individualistic and politically coded form. That approach makes the control feel quieter, and in some ways more threatening.
Samantha Sloyan is the standout as Margaret White. Viewers familiar with her performance as Bev Keane in Midnight Mass might expect another display of icy religious certainty, but this Margaret is much harder to define. She is cruel, calculating, vulnerable and capable of changing her principles when doing so serves her aims.
Most importantly, Margaret genuinely loves Carrie. That distinguishes this interpretation from King’s original character, whose supposed love concealed a deep hatred of her daughter’s womanhood and growing independence. Flanagan’s Margaret does not use the same overt language about sin and puberty. Instead, she disguises control as protection and support, making the relationship more psychologically complicated.
The wider ensemble benefits from the show’s eight-episode structure. Familiar Flanagan collaborators including Michael Trucco, Tahmoh Penikett, Rahul Kohli, Kate Siegel, Ruth Codd, Katee Sackhoff and Mark Hamill appear alongside a talented group of performers.
Chris Hargensen receives more motivation than the usual school-bully treatment, even if her history is less subtle. Sue Snell’s kindness is grounded in a secure home and an affectionate mother, giving her conflict between Chris and Carrie greater emotional logic. Amber Midthunder’s teacher Rita Desjardin receives her own storyline with Rahul Kohli’s Seth Peist, while Tim Bagley and Matthew Lillard add memorable performances as school staff.
The trouble with Emaline
The major weakness is Emaline, played by Thalia Dudek. The character first appears when Carrie is alone in the school bathroom, and the presentation makes it clear almost immediately that something is unusual. Emaline’s punk styling and rebellious manner feel familiar, while other characters fail to respond naturally to their comments or presence.
The series repeatedly signals the eventual reveal, including during a party in the third episode. Later, it presents a collection of supposedly revelatory moments showing that other people see Carrie talking to herself. A second twist is also heavily foreshadowed through the show’s storyline about women with supernatural powers.
This device is not simply predictable; it weakens the tragedy at the centre of Carrie. The original power of the story comes from watching a mistreated girl discover a brief glimpse of hope before taking control in a devastating way. The more the audience cares for Carrie, the more painful her destruction becomes.
Flanagan creates that affection particularly well in the library sequence. Carrie, who has only read books secretly supplied by her neighbour, enters a room filled with shelves and reacts with genuine wonder. For a moment, education and a different life seem possible. The story’s emotional force comes from knowing that this hope will be taken away.
Emaline’s role, and the explanation attached to it, disrupts that carefully built tension. It also raises questions about the familiar idea that a woman must become monstrous before she can possess power. There is value in examining that idea, but the new concept ultimately removes some of the horror and emotional impact from the prom.
A worthwhile new chapter for Carrie
That misstep does not erase the series’ achievements. The reinterpretation of Margaret and Carrie’s relationship is often remarkable, the cast is consistently strong and many of the quieter scenes are beautifully handled.
The supernatural mythology could also connect the series to a wider Stephen King universe. Possible links to Firestarter, The Institute, The Shining and The Dead Zone are suggested, while some viewers may also notice echoes of The Dark Tower. The show even references The Shining directly.
The ending is frustrating, but the larger experiment works. This is a rare new adaptation that justifies its existence by finding fresh questions inside a well-known horror story. For viewers who enjoy thoughtful horror television, it belongs alongside the wider stories discussed on the RETROCADE Arcade Blog, even if its final choice leaves the series on uncertain ground.
Flanagan’s Carrie is therefore both a success and a warning. It proves that a classic can be revisited with purpose, while also showing how an ambitious new idea can dilute the tragedy it was meant to deepen.
For more screen-inspired entertainment and interactive home setups, explore RETROCADE’s arcade machines, compact bartop arcades and arcade light guns.
Leave a Reply