The latest iteration of “Carrie” confirms what many of us have long suspected: that social media is the real source of evil in our lives.
Currently. There’s still Satan and bullying (so much bullying) and jealousy and greed and ignorance, all the old favorites. But a high-school girl’s scathing Instagram account exacerbates the damage all of them cause, and then some.
It’s timely, in other words. Just look at all of the memes it has unleashed on the world.
“Carrie” is King’s first novel, famously salvaged from the garbage by his wife Tabatha. Brian De Palma’s 1976 film, starring Sissy Spacek as the title character, is justifiably considered a classic ― for the bloody prom scene, of course, and the shocker of an ending, but also for its heartrending
depiction of bullying and isolation. (Also: early John Travolta.)
What is the new 'Carrie' about?
Now Mike Flanagan, who is without question the leading adapter of Stephen King currently working, and who also has a flair for both reinventing classics (“The Fall of the House of Usher”) and coming up with originals (the brilliant “Midnight Mass”), updates the story. If anyone could make a new version worthwhile (Kimberly Peirce’s 2013 film was not), it’s Flanagan.
He almost succeeds.
The updates are spot on and so realistic they’re hard to watch. The performances, especially by Summer H. Howell as Carrie, Flanagan favorite Samantha Sloyan as her mother and Alison Thornton as Chris Hargensen, the meanest mean girl ever, are outstanding. It doesn’t need to be eight episodes long ― streaming’s original sin. But it builds, as Carrie gains more agency than in previous versions and the supporting characters get more than a passing glance.
Then Flanagan blows it all on the most unsatisfying conclusion in recent memory. Of course, it’s not really a conclusion, as it seems carefully constructed for one purpose and one purpose only: more seasons.
Dang.
Mike Flanagan gives Carrie a backstory
To say that Carrie White (Howell) has lived a sheltered life is to understate the case considerably. In the novel, she is brought up by an ultra-religious mother who forbids knowledge of the outside world ― to the point that when she has her first period, unfortunately timed to her showering after gym class, she thinks she’s bleeding to death.
In Flanagan’s version, there’s more of a backstory. Carrie’s father Ralph (Tahmoh Penikett), a government-hating conspiracy theorist of the first order, who has found his perfect match in Margaret (Sloyan), dies in a construction accident. When authorities arrive at the White home, Margaret and Carrie are cowering in a closet, hiding.
Ah, that closet. It’ll get some work.
The Whites are given an ultimatum ― either Carrie goes to school or she’ll be placed in foster care. So off she goes to Ewan High School, out of place from the start, something the other kids pick up on with their evil kid radar. The next thing you know, as in the novel and the film, she is crying in the shower, terrified, and the girls are throwing sanitary napkins at her.
But now there is more. Now the girls are recording her on their phones. The gym teacher, Rita (Amber Midthunder, “Prey”), is properly horrified. But Henry Grayle (Matthew Lillard), Ewan’s principal, immediately shows the cowardly appeasement that will come back to haunt him.
First among evils is Chris Hargensen (Thornton). A word here about Thornton’s performance. She makes Chris almost comically loathsome but never descends into camp. She is so deliciously evil that you almost cannot stand to watch her as she manipulates the world around her. Until, of course, she runs into someone whose manipulative powers are far greater than hers, or anyone else’s.
Kudos also to Josie Totah, almost as despicable as Chris’ desperate sidekick Tina.
Carrie's mother becomes a parents' rights influencer. It works
Soon an Instagram account appears, Carrie Red. The posts on it show students and teachers in compromising positions, accompanied by scathing captions. It is unbelievably cruel, and therefore instantly popular. Everyone has a phone, all the time, and soon it becomes not a means of communication but a weapon. Watching Chris Hargensen on her phone is eventually as terrifying as Leatherface wielding a chainsaw. She could rename it X and run it without much adjustment, though her version would probably be more humane than Elon Musk's.
Meanwhile, Carrie slowly discovers her telekinetic powers, to the dawning horror of her mother. But Sloyan’s Margaret is not just a religious nut case. Rather than descend deeper into a bunker to stave off the outside world, she reluctantly embraces it. She buys a cellphone and starts posting, becoming a parents’ rights influencer of sorts.
It sounds ridiculous. But so do the real-life school board meetings where similarly minded parents try to ban books. And Flanagan doesn’t allow Margaret to descend into caricature (nor does Sloyan).
There is nuance here. Margaret ultimately has what she considers Carrie’s best interests at heart, and while that’s true of some of the misguided parents who try to strike down anything they disagree with or don’t understand, Flanagan muddies the waters with ambiguity. You could argue that he’s trying to both-sides the story, or that even a stopped clock is right twice a day. But it plays more effectively than that.
Everything is coming to a head, of course. And then it all falls apart. Without giving too much away, part of the power of the other versions of “Carrie” is the finality of it, the price that is exacted by the actions of others. That is not entirely subverted here, but the biggest shocks are the manipuations to keep the whole thing going for more seasons.
Until it crashes, Flanagan has some thoughtful things to say about the nature of isolation, faith, cruelty and the slivers of hope that keep us going, as well as the way social media colors all of that. Of course, the show streams on Prime Video, so you can watch it on your phone. Margaret White wouldn’t be surprised.
How to watch 'Carrie'
Streaming on Prime Video.
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Mike Flanagan almost made a perfect ‘Carrie’ reboot. Then he blew it
