Carrie season 1 review: strong performances, but the MCU-style approach ruins it all

We've now reached the point where anyone adapting Carrie really needs a good excuse. This Prime Video series is adaptation number four – apparently, there's no limit to how many times studios are willing to see someone drenched in blood at prom if there's cash and a fresh angle on Stephen King's classic. But this time, horror maestro Mike Flanagan is in charge. That should be a guarantee, right? Has he finally cracked the code or are we just getting diminishing returns?

Old Story, New Wrappings

If you've somehow missed the dozens of banners, here's the gist: Carrie White is bullied at school, micromanaged by a religious nut mum, and discovers she can toss people about with her mind. We all know what happens on prom night. The new bit? Carrie's been sheltered at home and forced into public school by a court order. The teenagers now mostly torment her through social media and cyberbullying, which does feel depressingly accurate. Also, the whole thing jumps around in time, using survivor interviews to drip-feed grim foreshadowing – straight out the novel but, this time, leaning awkwardly into melodrama.

Flanagan's new adaptation is the fourth time Carrie has been reimagined for the screen.

The show stretches the story over eight episodes, so you'd think we'd get nice, thorny character work. Instead, a lot of the villains are watered down: Sue Snell is rendered fully likeable from the start, and antihero Chris Hargensen, famously irredeemable in the book and earlier films, is now positively humanised. The result? The payoffs feel mushy. If you're a fan of absolutely revelling in how nasty high school girls can be (at least in fiction), the edge has been sanded down.

Who Actually Shines?

Summer Howell gives it everything as Carrie White. She plays her with this wide-eyed mix of innocence and confusion that makes every harsh word sting. One moment, Howell's delivering a devastating monologue about her love of books and possibilities, and the next, she's crumbling in the face of yet another digital mob. It hurts because it feels unfair – which is the point of Carrie. If casting was ever the worry, you won't find it here.

Most fans were thrilled to see Samantha Sloyan pop up as Margaret White. Given how much everyone loved to hate her as Bev in Midnight Mass, it's not a surprise. But instead of a cold, terrified religious zealot, this Margaret is oddly devoted – to Carrie, oddly enough. So much so that their arguments don't have the same crackle as before, and the ending of her arc left me scratching my head. Flanagan seems to want us to sympathise with her more, but that just takes the edge off what should be one of horror's most iconic monsters.

In the ever-growing Flanagan ensemble, a few others step up: Amber Midthunder, Matthew Lillard, Rahul Kohli, and Michael Trucco all put in solid work, but it's Tim Bagley as guidance counsellor Mr Morton who nearly steals the show, finally getting a meaty role that lets him be the warm, pragmatic soul who sees the good in Carrie. Shame, then, that some of the minor players come off as clunky – usually Flanagan keeps the acting level high across the board, but here you can clearly spot the weaker links (thankfully none of the main cast).

Not every new addition lands. The Emaline subplot smothers Carrie's character and deflates the prom set-piece. Even dancing around spoilers, it's hard to ignore that her presence saps the finale's impact.

Universe Fatigue: The MCU Effect

Here's the oddest part – Flanagan seems to have one eye on stitching a wider Stephen King universe. There are nods and threads that could link this to projects like The Institute (which, for the record, isn't even the same streaming company), and even hints that there's a Dark Tower door creaking open in the background. Unfortunately, that means Carrie's personal, tragic horror sometimes gets swamped by conspiracies and mystery organisations. It's a bit like Stranger Things, except it was never supposed to be. I half expected someone from another King story to pop up for a bit of cross-brand synergy.

Prom Night Fizzles Out

This adaptation builds and builds towards prom, but when it gets there, the chaos is underwhelming. There's a swirl of CGI, too many random faces, and Carrie herself becomes more of a prop than the furious centre she's supposed to be. Even the (famously cheap) 2002 TV movie somehow wrung more from the actual carnage. It's the moment the whole show is meant to land – and when it doesn't, you feel it.

One final thing: with two more seasons in the pipeline, the show alters certain character fates and withholds closure you'd expect if this was a one-and-done. Various plot threads are left dangling, and a chunk of the emotional punch goes missing as a result.

The complete first series of Carrie is up now on Prime Video, if you fancy taking your own look.