There is perhaps no more recognisable image in horror than Carrie White standing beneath the stage lights at prom, drenched in blood as her classmates look on. It is an image so deeply embedded in popular culture that when Mike Flanagan announced he was bringing Stephen King’s Carrie back to our screens, the immediate question was: do we really need another version?

After all, Brian De Palma’s 1976 adaptation is a horror classic, followed by a 2002 television film and the 2013 remake starring Chloë Grace Moretz and Julianne Moore. Yet if there is one filmmaker I would trust to make King’s legendary book feel fresh again, it is Flanagan. After years of bringing horror to our screens in a way that is both deeply emotional and character-driven, I was poised and ready to see what his version would look like.

The series begins in the aftermath of the prom, immediately reminding us that we already know where this story is heading. But as Sue Snell tells us, “everyone thinks they know what happened at prom.” It feels almost as though Flanagan is speaking directly to the audience. Yes, we know the story. We know the blood. But we don’t know this Carrie.

Summer H. Howell is extraordinary as Carrie. From the very first episode, her eyes are filled with so much wonder as she is finally allowed to experience the world outside her home. Going to high school, meeting other girls and experiencing teenage life for the first time would ordinarily be a teenager’s worst nightmare, but to Carrie it is an opportunity to finally discover the world she has been so completely sheltered from. A social worker describes her as “stunningly uninformed”, and Howell captures that innocence beautifully.

The longer television format is a huge advantage here. We see Carrie discovering literature, friendship, other girls and the world beyond her mother’s home. There is something incredibly sweet about her. She is awkward, curious and completely fascinated by experiences that most teenagers would take for granted. Watching her navigate a world she has never been allowed to see makes her incredibly easy to root for. And that makes what eventually happens to her all the more painful.

The series also brings Carrie firmly into the modern day. There are smartphones, Instagram profiles, Jeeps and school lockdowns. The teenagers exist in a world where humiliation no longer ends when you leave the school gates. Everything can be photographed, posted and shared within seconds. For Carrie, that makes the horror of being a teenager even more inescapable. Her trauma doesn’t simply stay inside the school. The internet gives it the potential to spread beyond those walls and become everyone’s worst nightmare.

Siena Agudong and Alison Thornton are both fantastic. Thornton, in particular, is given considerably more to work with as Chris Hargensen. The extended runtime allows us to see her struggles and understand more about what has shaped her. It doesn’t excuse her behaviour, but it gives her a humanity that previous versions haven’t always had. For once, the bully can make us feel sorry for them too. There is even something of Carrie crossed with Mean Girls in the way the series explores the social hierarchy of high school. Beneath the bright colours, teenage drama and lighter moments is a story about cruelty, insecurity and the ways young people can hurt one another.

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The costumes are another clever part of this. In the first episode, the other teenagers are largely dressed in muted colours, while Carrie is dressed in pink. She immediately sticks out from the crowd. Even before she has become the centre of attention, she is visually isolated from everyone around her.

Then there is Samantha Sloyan’s Margaret White. Flanagan regulars will recognise Sloyan from Hush, Midnight Mass and The Life of Chuck, and it is no surprise that he continues to bring her into his work. She is phenomenal here. What surprised me most about this version of Margaret is just how different she feels. In previous adaptations, I remember being genuinely frightened of her. Here, there is still something deeply unsettling about Margaret, but her protectiveness towards Carrie is much more apparent. She genuinely loves her daughter, even if that love has been warped by her beliefs.

I was less convinced by the decision to turn Margaret into something of a spokesperson. It moves her away from the creepy outsider figure that I have always found so compelling about the character. It is certainly an interesting reinterpretation, but one that didn’t completely work for me. The writing, meanwhile, is superb. Flanagan’s dialogue feels remarkably natural. There were several moments where I completely forgot I was watching something scripted because the conversations felt so effortless. It helps the series feel like a genuine modern high school rather than a story that has simply been updated with smartphones.

The soundtrack is equally brilliant. It has an airy, almost dreamlike quality, with songs such as Katie Garfield’s “Weightless” helping to establish the sense that we are experiencing this world through Carrie’s eyes. There are so many needle drops that I am already waiting for someone to create a Spotify playlist so I can listen to the entire thing on repeat. And yes, that Lana Del Rey needle drop is perfect.

There is one major element of Flanagan’s approach that didn’t work quite as well for me, however: Carrie’s telekinesis. I have always preferred the mystery surrounding her abilities. There is something much more frightening about not completely understanding what Carrie is capable of or what is happening to her. Here, we see considerably more of her powers, and at times the series begins to feel almost like a superhero origin story. I can understand why some viewers will enjoy that approach, particularly because the series gives us more time to explore Carrie herself, but personally I found it took away some of the mystery that makes her powers so frightening.

The prom sequence that we have seen recreated countless times becomes an almost hour-long crescendo, and I was completely infatuated by it. Knowing what is coming does nothing to diminish its impact. If anything, it makes the tension even more unbearable. After seeing what Flanagan has done here, I am even more intrigued to see what he does with his other Stephen King project – The Mist and his remake of The Exorcist. Carrie proves that you can take an incredibly well-loved story, respect what came before and still find something new within it.

Mike Flanagan hasn’t simply given us another Carrie. He’s allowed us to see her again for the first time.

★★★★

About the Author

Megan Hilborne

Author

Megan is a freelance writer and film critic based in Portsmouth. She graduated with a degree in Film in 2020 and has continued her study of the medium in her day-to-day life. She takes particular interest in indie, horror, feminist and queer cinema. Some of her writing credits include an interview with Academy Award winner Sean Baker and Time’s 2025 Most Influential People inductee Mo Abudu.

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