All Mike Flanagan Netflix Series and Films, Ranked From Chilling Classics to Rare Missteps
Horror auteur Mike Flanagan has turned his Netflix partnership into a genre juggernaut, stacking the platform with acclaimed films and series.
If you know modern horror TV and movies, Mike Flanagan is basically a household name at this point—at least in the haunted-household sense. The guy’s all over Netflix, dropping everything from gothic ghost stories to cerebral slow-burns, and somehow he almost never misses. His stuff always mixes spooky vibes, shockingly good characters, and the kind of emotional gut-punches you don’t expect from a haunted doll or whatever thing’s creeping down the hallway this time. Here’s how his Netflix-era projects shake out, from bottom to top, with all the details that matter.
Mike Flanagan on Netflix: Ranked
- Before I Wake (2016)
This one’s probably his most underrated movie, and honestly, it’s not really his fault. 'Before I Wake' follows a couple who foster a kid whose dreams—good and bad—start bleeding into real life. It sets itself up like a beautiful, twisted fairy tale: one minute it’s glowing butterflies, the next it’s a living nightmare thanks to the kid’s sleep terrors. It’s also worth mentioning this was supposed to be Flanagan’s big post-'Oculus' follow-up, until distributor drama (Relativity Media’s bankruptcy, for anyone keeping score at home) put it on ice for years. It hit most places in 2016, but US viewers didn’t see it until 2018, and by then, he’d already turned in stronger work. The movie’s got serious creepy kid energy, an all-timer monster in the Canker Man, and manages to bring emotional trauma into the supernatural, but among Flanagan’s Netflix collection? It’s easily overshadowed. - Gerald's Game (2017)
Adapting Stephen King can be thankless, especially when the novel is basically 'woman handcuffed to a bed, stuck in her own head.' Yet, Flanagan pulls it off. The story is dead simple: Jessie and Gerald try to spice up their marriage, Gerald keels over, and Jessie is stuck, alone and truly out of options. Most agreed you couldn’t film this book, and honestly, if it was anyone but Flanagan, they’d be right. Carla Gugino (nailing it, as always) spends nearly the entire film acting opposite nobody, and Bruce Greenwood gets in some quality ghostly ex-husband scenes. Some viewers can’t hang with the slow pace, but the rare moments of gore (that hand scene—if you know, you know) are brutal enough. Toss in a nightmarish, not-quite-human Moonlight Man, and you’ve got a psychological thriller that’s more about surviving your own brain than the handcuffs or monsters outside. Still, if you’re not here for dread and introspection, it won’t be your favorite. - The Haunting of Bly Manor (2020)
'Bly Manor' had a rough assignment: follow up Flanagan’s previous smash ('Hill House'), which is a tough act for anyone. This time, he adapts Henry James’s classic 'The Turn of the Screw,' blends in some vintage gothic vibes, and leans hard into supernatural melodrama (romance included). The show is basically an ensemble piece where the cast gets to dig into their own character-centric episodes—ghosts included. If you’re expecting just jump scares, not so much; these ghosts stand in more for guilt and loss, and the show plays out as much like a doomed love story as a horror series. Victoria Pedretti puts in another killer performance, making it obvious why Flanagan brings her back all the time. The problem: it never quite steps out from its predecessor's shadow. - The Fall of the House of Usher (2023)
Here’s where things really start to look flashy. 'Usher' sees Flanagan tackling Edgar Allan Poe—not just the title story, but a whole basket of Poe’s weirdest, bleakest tales, mashed into a single saga about a filthy-rich family’s slow-motion meltdown. The show looks amazing, for starters; every frame is loaded with rich colors and unsettling set pieces. That said, it sometimes gets too heavy-handed with both its visuals and 'take that, billionaires!' attitude, and the deaths (of which there are many) get a little cartoonish after a while. Still, it’s loaded with great performances, dark comedy, and a few over-the-top demises (chimp attack, acid face, you name it). Flanagan flexes his style muscles here, and the ensemble acting is top-notch—even the sharp dialogue lets them chew a bit more scenery than usual. - The Midnight Club (2022)
'The Midnight Club' is the Flanagan show most people overlook, but I’d argue it earns its spot this high. The concept’s instantly grim: a group of terminally ill teens living at a hospice bond over telling ghost stories, and make a pact that whoever dies first will haunt the rest. That setup isn’t just bleak, it’s the perfect way for Flanagan to play with a bunch of horror subgenres—each episode basically showcases one kid’s unique, sometimes meta, scary story. The series even got a Guinness World Record for the number of jump scares in one episode (which is impressive... or slightly annoying, depending on your patience for that trick). Beyond the scares, though, it’s one of Flanagan’s best casts, and the quieter stories on grief and hope hit hard. - Hush (2016)
'Hush' is probably his tightest, most effective film, mainly because it strips horror down to the basics. The set-up: a deaf writer is stuck in a cat-and-mouse game with a home invader in her isolated rural house. That’s it. No fancy set pieces, hardly any dialogue. Kate Siegel (who co-wrote and stars—Flanagan’s wife for the trivia nerds) is outstanding, and the movie leans on sound design to put you in her shoes. Everything about 'Hush' is about doing more with less, and the result is a slasher that feels genuinely fresh, even with such a familiar premise. - Midnight Mass (2021)
Now we’re at the heavy hitters. 'Midnight Mass' is Flanagan at his most Flanagan: a slow-build, thoughtful horror series that’s all about faith and monsters and the lies we tell ourselves. It’s small-town America, suspicious miracles, and sermons that somehow don’t feel preachy (even when they’re long-winded lectures from the pulpit). Father Paul—played by Hamish Linklater—delivers some next-level monologues, and the writing is so sharp you sometimes forget you’re in a vampire story. When the horror hits, it hits hard (a bloody finale, a truly devastating sunrise scene). Flanagan is using religious imagery to take big swings, and he rarely misses. - The Haunting of Hill House (2018)
Honestly, this is the gold standard for modern horror TV, and it’s not even all that close. 'Hill House' isn’t just scary (it is), but it’ll gut you with its story of a family torn apart by both literal ghosts and the even worse figurative ones. The emotional depth here is the real trick—just when you think you’re bracing for a jump scare, you get walloped with a flashback about grief, trauma, or family dysfunction. The cast absolutely kills (so much so that several became Flanagan regulars), and the structure—jumping between past and present, haunted house and haunted minds—keeps things moving. 'Two Storms', the long take episode set in a funeral home, is as good as TV gets technically and emotionally. In other words, 'Hill House' is Flanagan’s Netflix masterpiece, and nothing else he’s done yet has topped it.
Worth remembering:
'When it comes to character-driven horror, Flanagan plays in a league of his own. Even his so-so entries have something original to offer—so if you only know him from the big hits, it’s worth digging a little deeper.'
If Netflix is a haunted playground, Flanagan’s the kid who knows all the hiding places. And if he’s still not your cup of tea? Hey, at least you can’t say he phones it in.