‘Carrie’ Review: Mike Flanagan’s Remake Is a Timely (and Terrifying) High School Tragedy

There’s a new Carrie in town. The upcoming horror series from Executive Producer Mike Flanagan (creator and director of Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House) aims to introduce the tragedy of young Carrie White to a new audience while offering die-hard fans a new perspective. All eight episodes land on Wednesday on Prime Video, and I’m sure the heated fan discussions will follow.
It’s been 50 years since Brian De Palma’s movie adaptation of Stephen King‘s debut novel hit theaters. Carrie follows the story of a misunderstood girl with psychic abilities who is bullied at school and abused at home until things come to a bloody and fiery end. The film made Sissy Spacek a star, turned King’s book into a bestseller and set the stage for him to become the prolific, iconic genre writer we know today.
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This isn’t the first reincarnation of the Carry White story. There was a sequel, two movie remakes and even a stage musical all inspired by her story. Now, it’s Flanagan’s turn to tell the tale, and the result is a layered, in-depth study of how grief and trauma can shape and destroy a strong mother-daughter bond.

Further, it’s an exploration of how a broken education system and unchecked abuse, through social media of all things, can lead to the unraveling of an awkward girl who just wants to exist in a world that shuns her at every turn.
The first big departure for the show from the movie is its narrative structure. De Palma’s movie runs 98 minutes; Flanagan’s series is roughly three times longer, which gives the story a chance to breathe and allows him to expand on the overall world it takes place in.
As I mentioned above, school plays a huge part in the series. We get insight into the lives of the faculty, their struggles in teaching the students, while also balancing their own demons. And since it is modern-day, there’s an assortment of added details like social media bullying and interference from strong-willed parents.
I regularly imagine what my own high school experience would’ve been like if everyone had a smartphone in their pocket, ready at a moment’s notice to record someone being bullied and share it online. That’s a big component here, and, without spoiling much, it is an instigator, sparking the fire in Carrie that inevitably leads to the bloody climax at prom. However, there are also tributaries that extend from this social media abuse that impact the high school and the community at large.

If you’re at all familiar with Flanagan’s work, you’ll know he is attracted to emotionally deep stories. His version of Carrie spends a lot of time establishing the relationship between Carrie and her mother, Margaret White, who, in the original movie and book, is presented as an evil religious zealot. Piper Laurie’s performance as Carrie’s mom is iconic, unhinged and downright terrifying.
Instead of going in that direction, here, this iteration of Carrie builds a complicated, loving relationship between mother and daughter. The introduction of school and the outside world leads to a breakdown of that bond, as Carrie begins to discover and eventually lean into her power.
Summer H. Howell’s performance as Carrie is utterly heartbreaking. Her ability to wear her emotions on her sleeve and cycle between childlike innocence and unbridled rage is the necessary energy that steers the series where it needs to go. She’s simply transcendent in the role.

Samantha Sloyan’s take on Margaret White is an absolute surprise, though. I knew going into this that she’d deliver a memorable performance, considering the work she did as devout zealot Bev Keane in Flanagan’s Netflix series, Midnight Mass. She brings a similar energy to the role of Margaret, but instead of dialing up the god-fearing madness, this version of the character is delightfully nuanced.
I found myself relating to her and even rooting for her, which wasn’t something I had on my bingo card going into this.
As for Carrie’s peers, the ensemble cast delivers. Sierra Agudong’s Sue Snell offers a conflicted voice of reason amid the unfolding madness. Alison Thornton’s exploration of Chris Hargensen is filled with sadness and an unfettered thirst for power, as her semblance of normalcy crumbles.

Young female relationships populate the series, which has led to concerns I’ve read online that this will once again be a Carrie told through a male’s eyes. Yes, Flanagan’s name is on the project and, yes, King is the one who penned the original tale, but a lot has changed since the De Palma movie first premiered.
His film still holds a place in cinema, but all you need to do is revisit the famed locker room scene in which Carrie gets her first period, and you’ll see a lot of nudity, which is troubling, considering the fact that these women (actresses all of legal age) were still portraying underage high school girls.
Aside from Flanagan contributing as a writer and director on the series, Prime Video’s Carrie features an array of female writers (Elizabeth Padden, Justina Ireland, Dani Parker, Alexandra Magistso and Rebecca Leigh Klingel) and directors (Kate Siegel, Axelle Carolyn, Kyra Sedgwick and Hiromi Kamata), which gives the story a new perspective.
Finally, the tragedy of Carrie White is told through a necessary female gaze, and, in the process, the conflicts that arise resonate on a deeper, more authentic level.
By the time we get to the prom, the storm of blood, fire and death hits in a much different, impactful way.
Carrie is technically a horror series, but there’s a lack of gore and violence featured throughout most of the series. That may sound like a flaw, but it’s a detail that only adds to the emotional experience. Take away the supernatural aspect of the story, and you’d be left with a poignant coming-of-age tragedy that ticks all the binge-worthy boxes of a streaming series worthy of your time. But this is a Mike Flanagan joint, so what else are you expecting?
KioskNews shows a cleaned-up reading view extracted from the publisher’s page — the original always lives on their site, not ours.