Introduction: Taking Another Stab at a Familiar Story

Just when I thought the story of Carrie White had been adapted from every possible angle, along comes a new television series to raise it from the dead once again. The question is whether audiences really needed another version of Carrie, or whether this latest adaptation would simply be old blood in a new bucket.

Thankfully, the 2026 television series proves that there is still more to explore in Stephen King’s famous story. Developed by Mike Flanagan for Prime Video, the eight-episode series takes the tragic tale of a bullied teenager with telekinetic powers and gives it more space, greater emotional depth, and a modern setting. It also forms part of a much larger legacy that includes the original 1974 novel, three films about Carrie White, a direct sequel, a television movie, a stage musical, and even a musical episode of Riverdale.

Although the new series is not perfect, I believe it is one of the strongest versions of the story so far. It respects what came before without becoming trapped by it, and it modernises the material without losing the tragedy at its centre.

For me, it earns a strong 4 out of 5 stars.

---

A Familiar Story with More Room to Develop

The central story remains familiar. Carrie White is a sheltered teenager who has grown up under the control of her intensely religious and overbearing mother, Margaret. Following her father’s death, Carrie enters public high school and is forced to deal with classmates, social pressures, bullying, and the frightening discovery that she has telekinetic abilities.

What makes this version different is the amount of time it has to develop Carrie’s world. Previous film adaptations had to tell the entire story within a limited running time. As a series, however, this version can spend more time exploring Carrie’s loneliness, her relationship with her mother, the behaviour of her classmates, and the chain of events leading to the disaster everyone knows is coming.

The slower approach makes Carrie feel like a person rather than simply a horror character. We see someone who wants ordinary things such as friendship, acceptance, freedom, and the chance to belong. Knowing how her story ends makes those moments even more painful.

The series is at its best when it focuses on that human tragedy. Carrie’s powers may provide the supernatural horror, but the real horror comes from how she is treated by the people around her.

---

Carrie Enters the Social Media Age

One of the most effective changes is the updated setting. In earlier versions, Carrie’s bullying mainly took place at school. In this series, humiliation can be recorded, shared, and turned into entertainment for a much wider audience. The story specifically places Carrie’s experience within the social media age, where cruelty does not necessarily end when the school day is over. I thought this was a logical way to bring the story into the present without changing its meaning. Technology has evolved, but the desire to exclude, embarrass, and control other people remains the same.

The online element makes Carrie’s isolation feel even more intense. She cannot simply leave the school building and escape what happened. Her humiliation can follow her home and spread through the community. This reinforces the idea that her eventual breakdown results from a long pattern of mistreatment rather than one isolated incident.

A few moments make the social media message a little too obvious, but the update generally works. It helps distinguish this series from the earlier adaptations and gives younger viewers a version of Carrie’s experiences that feels frighteningly relevant.

---

A Carrie Who Feels Like Her Own Character

Summer H. Howell faces a difficult challenge in the leading role. She follows several actresses who have already offered memorable interpretations of Carrie, including Sissy Spacek, Angela Bettis, and Chloë Grace Moretz. Instead of copying any of them, Howell presents a version of Carrie who feels suited to this longer and more character-driven adaptation.

Her Carrie is vulnerable and uncertain, but she is not without personality or strength. The performance allows us to understand why Carrie is frightened by the outside world while also recognising her growing frustration with the people who control or ridicule her.

Samantha Sloyan is equally important as Margaret White. This character can easily become exaggerated, but Sloyan gives her conviction and emotional intensity. Margaret is terrifying not only because of what she does, but because she believes that her behaviour is justified.

The relationship between Carrie and Margaret benefits greatly from the television format. Their home feels like its own emotional prison, and Carrie’s developing powers become connected to her increasing awareness that she does not have to remain powerless forever.

---

Returning to the Original Novel

Every version of Carrie owes its existence to Stephen King’s 1974 novel, which introduced Carrie White, her abusive home life, her telekinetic powers, and the cruelty that follows her into school. It was King’s first published novel and became the foundation of a franchise stretching across books, films, television, theatre, music, and popular culture.

The novel presents the tragedy through different perspectives and documents, giving readers the sense that they are piecing together the history of a disaster. Some adaptations have used more of this structure than others.

The new series does not feel like a simple remake of one of the films. It feels more like another interpretation of King’s original ideas. Its extended length allows it to examine the wider community and the different choices that contribute to Carrie’s downfall.

This approach is important because Carrie’s tragedy was never caused by one person alone. Her mother’s abuse, her classmates’ bullying, the failures of the adults around her, and the actions of people who recognise her suffering too late all play a part.

---

The 1976 Classic Remains the Queen of the Prom

The most unavoidable comparison is Carrie from 1976, directed by Brian De Palma and starring Sissy Spacek as Carrie and Piper Laurie as Margaret. The film became the first screen adaptation of the novel. In my opinion, the 1976 film remains the definitive screen version. It is focused, stylish, unsettling, and emotionally devastating. Its prom sequence has become one of the most recognisable moments in horror cinema.

The 2026 series does not replace it, but it does not need to. The two adaptations succeed in different ways. The film has greater visual impact and moves with the confidence of a tightly constructed tragedy. The series gives Carrie, Margaret, and the supporting characters more time to develop.

If the 1976 film is the most iconic version, the series may be the most detailed. One delivers a concentrated cinematic nightmare; the other allows the nightmare to build gradually.

---

The Stage Musical: Carrie Finds Her Voice

The franchise then took an unexpected turn with Carrie: The Musical. The original stage musical appeared in 1988 and was later revised for an Off-Broadway production in 2012. Transforming Carrie’s story into a musical may sound strange, but the format makes sense when viewed as an emotional interpretation. Songs allow the characters to express feelings that might otherwise remain hidden, particularly Carrie’s longing to be accepted and Margaret’s controlling beliefs.

The 2026 series is obviously very different in tone and presentation, but it shares the musical’s interest in the characters’ inner lives. Both versions attempt to move beyond the famous image of Carrie covered in blood and remind audiences that she was a lonely teenager before she became a symbol of supernatural revenge.

The musical’s 2012 revision also demonstrates how the story itself keeps being revisited and reshaped. Much like the new series, it shows that an adaptation does not have to erase earlier versions to find a new approach.

---

The Rage: Carrie 2 Expands the Story

The only direct film sequel is The Rage: Carrie 2, released in 1999. Rather than bringing Carrie White back, it follows Rachel Lang, another bullied outsider with telekinetic abilities. Rachel is connected to Carrie through their shared biological father, while Amy Irving returns as Sue Snell, now working as a guidance counsellor. The sequel is not generally remembered with the same affection as the original, and it repeats several familiar story beats. However, it deserves recognition for trying to examine how the cycle of bullying, humiliation, and supernatural retaliation could affect another generation.

The 2026 series handles similar themes with more patience. Rachel’s story in the sequel moved Carrie’s legacy forward, while the series looks backward and asks how Carrie White’s own tragedy might be understood differently in a modern environment.

Although The Rage: Carrie 2 is not essential to understanding the new series, it remains an official and interesting part of the franchise.

---

The 2002 Television Movie: The Series That Almost Happened

The 2002 television adaptation starred Angela Bettis as Carrie and Patricia Clarkson as Margaret. Looking back, the 2002 film feels like an early attempt at what the 2026 version can now achieve more fully. It recognised that Carrie’s world might support a longer television story, but it remained limited by the format and expectations of a made-for-television movie.

Bettis offered an unusual and sympathetic performance, while Clarkson brought restraint and menace to Margaret. The result was sometimes uneven, but it had ideas that separated it from the 1976 film.

The new series feels like the television adaptation the earlier production never had the opportunity to become. With eight episodes available from the beginning, it can build a complete story rather than ending in a way designed to leave the door open for another show.

---

The 2013 Remake: A More Modern but Familiar Retelling

The 2013 version starred Chloë Grace Moretz as Carrie and Julianne Moore as Margaret. It brought the story to a new generation and incorporated more contemporary technology, but it remained closely connected to the structure and imagery audiences associated with the 1976 film. The 2013 production was another retelling of the original novel rather than a sequel. I enjoyed parts of the 2013 film, especially the performances, but it sometimes felt caught between recreating the classic movie and establishing its own identity. Moretz made Carrie more outwardly confident than some earlier interpretations, while Moore gave Margaret a colder and more controlled intensity.

The 2026 series is more successful at separating itself from the original film. Because it has additional time and a different structure, it does not feel pressured to rush from one famous scene to the next. It can introduce new material and allow familiar events to carry different emotional meaning.

The 2013 film modernised the surface of the story. The series goes further by reconsidering how Carrie’s relationships and humiliation would develop in a permanently connected world.

---

Riverdale Takes Carrie Back to the Stage

In 2018, Riverdale presented A Night to Remember, an episode built around the characters staging Carrie: The Musical. Rather than directly adapting King’s novel again, the episode used the musical within its own storyline.

It is one of the more unusual branches of the franchise, but it proves how deeply Carrie has entered popular culture. The story can be treated as serious horror, psychological drama, tragic character study, theatrical musical, or a production inside a teen television series.

The Riverdale episode is far removed from Flanagan’s approach, yet both recognise that the themes of teenage cruelty, secrecy, identity, and social pressure continue to connect with new audiences.

---

Where the New Series Falls Short

Despite everything I enjoyed, the series could have been tighter.

The expanded runtime gives the characters more depth, but it also creates moments where the story loses momentum. Some scenes repeat ideas already made clear, while a few supporting storylines receive more attention than they ultimately need.

The modern commentary is mostly effective, but there are occasions when the message becomes too direct. The strongest episodes trust the audience to recognise the parallels between older forms of bullying and modern online cruelty.

The series also cannot match the compact visual power of the 1976 film. Flanagan’s version is emotionally richer in certain areas, but De Palma’s film remains more immediate and unforgettable as a piece of cinema.

These weaknesses stop me from giving the series a full five stars, but they do not prevent it from being a compelling and thoughtful adaptation.

---

Final Verdict: Four Stars

When considered alongside the novel, the 1976 classic, the stage musical, The Rage: Carrie 2, the 2002 television movie, the 2013 remake, and the Riverdale musical episode, the new series earns its place in the franchise.

It does not surpass the 1976 film’s cinematic influence, but it provides one of the most complete emotional explorations of Carrie White. The performances are strong, the modern setting adds meaning, and the longer format allows the tragedy to develop with greater patience. Most importantly, it remembers that Carrie is not simply a monster waiting to explode. She is a person who is repeatedly denied compassion until her hurt becomes destructive.

Conclusion: Carrie-ing the Crown into a New Generation

After more than fifty years of adaptations, it would have been easy for this series to arrive dead on arrival. Instead, it breathes new life into Carrie White’s story while respecting the many bloody footprints that led to it.

The 1976 film still wears the prom crown, but the 2026 series carries the legacy with confidence. It understands the novel’s tragedy, learns from the earlier adaptations, and finds new relevance in the cruelty of the social media age.

It may not be a flawless homecoming, but it is certainly a night to remember. This is one adaptation that can proudly Carrie on.

There is an old saying in the Resident Evil universe: if you don’t see the body, it will probably come back later. The same can be said for the franchise itself. No matter how many times it shambles into a seemingly final grave, Resident Evil always finds a way to claw its way back to the surface. The latest cinematic outing continues that tradition, serving up another helping of zombies, conspiracies, corporate corruption, and impossible survival against all odds. While it never quite reaches the heights of the beloved video games that inspired it, nor the guilty-pleasure spectacle of some of the earlier films, it remains entertaining enough to keep longtime fans from feeling completely infected with disappointment.

As someone who has followed Resident Evil through its many incarnations, from the groundbreaking PlayStation games to the Milla Jovovich film series and even the recent television adaptations, I approached this movie with cautious optimism. The franchise has enjoyed remarkable longevity, but it has also struggled with consistency. Every new adaptation carries the burden of balancing fan expectations with the need to appeal to a broader audience. Unfortunately, this latest entry demonstrates both the strengths and weaknesses that have haunted Resident Evil adaptations for decades.

One of the movie’s greatest strengths is its commitment to the atmosphere that has always defined the franchise. The gloomy environments, abandoned facilities, and sense of looming danger all feel distinctly Resident Evil. There is a constant awareness that something terrible lurks around every corner, and the filmmakers deserve credit for maintaining a level of tension throughout much of the runtime. Unlike some previous films that leaned heavily into over-the-top action, this installment attempts to recapture elements of horror and suspense.

That said, the horror never feels quite as effective as it does in the games. One of the reasons the original games became so iconic was their ability to make players feel vulnerable. Every bullet mattered. Every hallway felt threatening. Every monster encounter carried real consequences. Films naturally face a different challenge because viewers are passive rather than active participants, but the movie still struggles to create that same sense of dread. The scares are competent without being memorable, and several sequences feel more familiar than frightening.

This latest movie takes almost the opposite approach. It attempts to remain closer to the spirit of the games while avoiding excessive spectacle. In theory, that sounds like the right direction. In practice, however, the result occasionally feels caught between two identities. It is not faithful enough to satisfy purists completely, yet it also lacks the larger-than-life action that made some earlier films so memorable. The movie often feels restrained when it should be bold and bold when it should be restrained.

When comparing this film to the earlier movie adaptations, the differences become especially noticeable. The Milla Jovovich-led series often drew criticism for deviating significantly from the source material, but those films possessed a unique energy. They embraced their own absurdity and delivered increasingly outrageous action sequences with complete confidence. Whether viewers loved or hated them, they rarely felt boring.

The cast delivers generally solid performances, although few characters leave a lasting impression. The protagonists are serviceable and believable enough within the context of the story, but they rarely achieve the level of charm or depth needed to carry the entire film. This has always been a challenge for Resident Evil adaptations. The games feature iconic characters such as Leon Kennedy, Jill Valentine, Claire Redfield, Chris Redfield, and Albert Wesker, each with years of established history and fan attachment. Translating that legacy to the screen is no easy task.

Some characters in the movie are handled better than others. Certain performances successfully capture the determination and resilience that fans associate with the franchise. Others feel underdeveloped, existing more as plot devices than fully realized individuals. By the time the credits roll, I found myself remembering specific action scenes more vividly than the people involved in them.

The film’s visual effects deserve mixed praise. There are moments when the infected creatures look genuinely unsettling, particularly in darker scenes where shadows help mask some of the artificiality. The production design also succeeds in creating environments that feel dangerous and appropriately grim. Laboratories, ruined locations, and infected areas all contribute to the atmosphere.

However, there are also instances where the effects appear uneven. Modern audiences have become accustomed to exceptionally polished visual effects, and certain sequences fail to meet that standard. The result is not disastrous by any means, but there are moments where the immersion breaks and the monsters look more digital than terrifying.

One area where the film performs reasonably well is world-building. The underlying lore of Resident Evil remains fascinating. The downfall of society through corporate greed, unethical scientific experimentation, and the pursuit of profit at any cost continues to provide a compelling backdrop. The Umbrella Corporation remains one of gaming’s most recognizable villains because it represents a frightening blend of scientific ambition and moral bankruptcy.

The movie taps into these themes effectively, reminding viewers why the franchise has endured for nearly three decades. The concept itself remains powerful. Unfortunately, the screenplay sometimes rushes through important developments that deserve greater exploration. Relationships, motivations, and major revelations occasionally pass by too quickly, limiting their emotional impact.

The comparisons with the Resident Evil television series are equally interesting. The Netflix adaptation generated significant debate among fans due to its major departures from established lore and characterisation. While that series introduced some intriguing ideas, many viewers felt it lost sight of what made Resident Evil special in the first place.

By comparison, this movie feels more respectful of the franchise’s foundations. It understands the importance of horror, monsters, survival, and conspiracy. Yet it still struggles to capture the unique balance that the best games achieve. Ironically, despite having fewer hours available than a television series, the movie sometimes feels more focused and coherent than the show. At the same time, it lacks the opportunity to develop characters and storylines in greater depth.

Perhaps the most important comparison remains the video games themselves. Any Resident Evil adaptation ultimately lives or dies by how well it reflects the essence of the source material. The games have continuously reinvented themselves, shifting from survival horror to action and back again while maintaining their identity. Titles such as Resident Evil 2, Resident Evil 4, Resident Evil 7, and Resident Evil Village demonstrate the franchise’s remarkable ability to evolve.

The movie captures certain visual and thematic elements from the games, but it never fully embraces what makes them exceptional. The games succeed because they combine tension, exploration, resource management, mystery, and unforgettable monster design. The film reproduces individual ingredients but struggles to create the same overall experience. It is rather like recreating a family recipe from memory. All the necessary components are present, but something important is missing from the final dish.

Despite these criticisms, I would not describe the movie as a failure. In fact, it remains surprisingly watchable. The pacing is generally effective, and there are several sequences that genuinely entertain. Fans of zombie horror will find enough action and suspense to justify the ticket price, while longtime followers of the franchise will enjoy spotting familiar references and connections.

The movie’s biggest problem is not that it is bad. It is that it is merely good enough. In a franchise capable of producing iconic moments, “good enough” can feel disappointing. There are flashes of greatness scattered throughout the film, moments that hint at what a truly outstanding Resident Evil adaptation could look like. Unfortunately, those moments remain isolated rather than forming a cohesive whole.

Ultimately, my three-star rating reflects a movie that succeeds in some important areas while falling short in others. It respects the source material more than certain previous adaptations. It delivers enough tension, action, and atmosphere to remain enjoyable. Its performances are competent, and its world-building highlights why the franchise continues to resonate with audiences.

At the same time, it lacks the innovation, intensity, and emotional investment necessary to elevate it beyond being simply another entry in the long-running Resident Evil saga. Fans seeking a faithful recreation of the games may leave wanting more. Viewers hoping for the outrageous spectacle of earlier films may feel equally underserved. The movie lives somewhere in the middle, neither fully embracing its horror roots nor completely surrendering to blockbuster excess.

Final Verdict: Grave Expectations

Much like a lone survivor searching a dark corridor for supplies, I found enough worthwhile moments to keep moving forward, but not enough treasure to call the journey unforgettable. This latest Resident Evil movie isn’t a biohazard to the franchise, but neither is it the miracle cure fans have been waiting for.

It stumbles rather than sprints, shuffles rather than charges, and ultimately lands somewhere between life and undeath. For longtime fans, that translates into a respectable but imperfect return to familiar territory. The franchise may still be alive, but after all these years, it’s clear that the search for the perfect Resident Evil adaptation remains… ongoing and undead.

Well, this story certainly has a bone to pick with the definition of a happy family! Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story takes us back to one of America’s most infamous murder cases, where family drama gets very bloody and the question of “who did it?” comes with an axe-load of suspicion. With Lizzie Borden at the centre of the story, I was curious to see how the Monster series would put its own spin on this notorious case.

One of the things I enjoyed about this chapter of the Monster series is that it doesn’t simply focus on the famous “Lizzie Borden took an axe” story that most people already know. It tries to look beyond the headlines and explore Lizzie as a person, as well as the circumstances surrounding the murders of her father and stepmother.

I also enjoyed the appearance of Aileen, who provides another connection to the wider Monster universe. Her inclusion was an interesting touch and reminded me that this series is not only interested in the crimes themselves, but also in the infamous people behind them and the stories that have developed around their cases.

The comparison between Lizzie and Aileen is also interesting. Their stories are very different, but both demonstrate how notorious murder cases can become larger than the people involved. Their appearances add another layer to the series and its exploration of some of the most infamous names in true crime.

Unfortunately, this is where I started to feel that the series didn’t quite reach its full potential.

Lizzie Borden’s story is fascinating enough to carry a compelling series, but I found the pacing to be quite uneven. There were moments where the story had me interested and wanting to know what would happen next, but there were also sections that felt slow and dragged the overall experience down.

I also wanted more depth from some of the characters and storylines. There is plenty of material to work with, but at times it felt like the series was only scratching the surface. I would have liked to see more exploration of the relationships, motivations and circumstances surrounding Lizzie.

The atmosphere, however, works well. There is something naturally unsettling about watching a story based on real murders, particularly when the question of guilt has remained part of the fascination surrounding the case for so long.

The performances also help keep things together, and there were definitely moments that stood out. But for me, the series didn’t have the same impact that I would have hoped for from a Monster story.

The cast is definitely one of the stronger parts of Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story. Ella Beatty does a good job as Lizzie, especially in showing the character’s more troubled and complicated side. She brings a quiet intensity to the role that works particularly well during the darker moments. Vicky Krieps is also impressive as Bridget Sullivan, bringing plenty of personality and emotion to a character who becomes an important part of Lizzie’s story.

Rebecca Hall and Charlie Hunnam also make an impression as Abby and Andrew Borden. Their performances help create the tension within the Borden household and make the family dynamics feel increasingly uncomfortable. Billie Lourd brings a different energy as Emma, Lizzie’s sister, and adds another layer to the complicated family relationships.

And then there is Sarah Paulson as Aileen Wuornos. Paulson is always someone who knows how to completely disappear into a character, and her performance here is another reminder of that. Even though Aileen’s story is separate from Lizzie’s historically, Paulson gives the character a strong presence and helps connect the two stories thematically.

For me, the performances are one of the reasons I continued watching even when the pacing started to drag. The cast brings enough intensity to the material to keep the story moving, even when the writing doesn’t always hit the mark.

I wouldn’t say I disliked it. There is enough here to keep fans of true crime and the Monster series interested. However, I found myself wanting more from the story, especially considering how fascinating the real-life case is.

⭐ Rating: 3/5

Final verdict: Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story had all the ingredients for a killer story, but unfortunately it didn’t always chop it up into the most gripping television show. The axe has fallen, the mystery remains, and Aileen adds an interesting connection to the Monster universe — but for me, this one was more “what the axe?” than “what a killer season!” It certainly has its moments, but ultimately, it left me wanting a little more bite.

Take a swing and watch Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story on Netflix.