The quintessential ghost story is back to haunt your dreams with the recent debut of , Netflix’s new miniseries adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s classic 1959 gothic horror novel. Frankly, it’s less an adaptation than a bold reimagining that still remains true to the rich metaphorical depths of the titular source material.
No less an authority than Stephen King cited the original as one of the finest horror novels of the late 20th century in his nonfiction overview of the genre,. His 2002 miniseries was an homage of sorts. Jackson’s novel has already been adapted twice for the big screen: once in 1963 and again in 1999. The former film is considered a classic. The less said about the overwrought 1999 adaptation, the better, despite a stellar cast that included Liam Neeson, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Owen Wilson, and Lili Taylor.
This latest version is the best by far. Even though it veers sharply from the original storyline, there are sufficient nods to the novel throughout to keep the staunchest fan happy. offers up plenty of bone-chilling horror, but like all the best ghost stories, that horror is rooted in the complexities of the human psyche. At its heart, this is a story of family trauma and dysfunction, turning Jackson’s psychological subtext into text.
“There’s nothing more boring than a normal ‘ghost.'”
It’s “a series about life after a haunting, what happens after the credits roll,” show runner Mike Flanagan told Vulture. “When you talk about people being haunted or wrestling demons, that is a rich metaphor. We came into this with the philosophy that there’s nothing more boring than a normal ‘ghost.’ For us, the ghosts that were the most interesting were the ones we create in ourselves throughout our lives.”
(Mild spoilers below.)
Jackson’s original storyline centered on a supernatural investigator named Dr. John Montague, who rents the purportedly haunted Hill House one summer in hopes of documenting paranormal phenomena. His guests include a colorful bohemian artist and self-proclaimed psychic, Theodora; the heir to Hill House, Luke Sanderson; and Eleanor Vance, a shy reclusive woman who spent too many years caring for her invalid mother and seems to have a strong affinity for Hill House. Strange disturbances occur almost immediately and quickly escalate, with tragic consequences.
As Montague recounts to his guests, the Massachusetts estate was built nearly 100 years before by a wicked man named Hugh Crain, whose two wives both died under mysterious circumstances. Crain’s daughter Abigail also died in the house, and her nurse hanged herself from the wrought-iron spiral staircase in the library. The only people who have set foot on the property since are the caretakers, Mr. and Mrs. Dudley, and they refuse to remain past dark.
Meet the Crains
In the Netflix version, Hugh Crain (Henry Thomas, ) and his wife Olivia (Carla Gugino, ) are professional house flippers. They purchase Hill House at a bargain price with the aim of renovating it and selling to the highest bidder so they can build their dream “forever house.” It turns out literally to be the renovation from hell.
There’s still a tragic history of violent death and suicide, and the Dudleys (Robert Longstreet, , and Annabeth Gish, ) are still the only locals willing to enter the house—during daylight. The maze-like manor and signature spiral staircase in the library remain intact. And three of the five Crain children share names with characters in the novel: middle child Theodora (McKenna Grace, ) and twins Luke (Julian Hilliard) and Eleanor (Violet McGraw, ). The eldest, Steven (Paxton Singleton, ), is named after King, while the second oldest, Shirley (Lulu Wilson, ), is a nod to Jackson.
Trouble begins almost immediately, as the children in particular hear strange creaking sounds, barking dogs, loud banging on the walls at night, and see the odd apparition. Eleanor (“Nell” for short) in particular is terrified by the recurring appearance of the Bent-Neck Lady. Black mold in the basement seems to emanate from a room—not in the blueprints—behind a red door that nobody can open, not even by force.
As we learn in the very first episode, things come to a head one horrible night. A panicked Hugh packs the children into the family car in the middle of the night and flees the house, leaving Olivia behind, despite the kids’ protests. When he returns for his wife, she is dead. It’s officially ruled a suicide, but a distraught Hugh claims “the house killed her” when questioned by a dubious sheriff.
House of Horrors
Fast forward to the present, where each family member is traumatized by what they experienced at Hill House and copes with it in very different ways. The elderly Hugh (Timothy Hutton) has shut down completely and refuses to talk about what really happened that night, further estranging his now-grown children. The eldest, Steven (Michiel Huisman, ), has opted for pragmatic skepticism, attempting to exorcise his demons by writing about the family tragedy in a bestselling nonfiction book, all while insisting there was nothing supernatural about his experience.
Shirley (Elizabeth Reaser, ) is now a mortician, determined to face the realities of death head-on as a coping mechanism. Theodora (Kate Siegel, ) is a child psychologist, helping other troubled kids while building an impenetrable emotional wall to protect herself. (Jackson’s novel strongly hints at Theo’s same-sex tendencies, a controversial choice at the time; here she is openly a lesbian.) Luke (Oliver Jackson-Cohen, ) tries to lose himself in heroin. And Eleanor (Victoria Pedretti) is plagued by sleep paralysis, with recurring visions of the Bent-Neck Lady.
“Time is not like a line. Our moments fall around us like rain, or confetti.”
Tragedy soon strikes the family again, bringing the surviving members together for the first time in years—and the full horror of Hill House is finally unleashed. The fifth and sixth episodes in particular stand out in this stellar series (“The Bent-Neck Lady” and “Two Storms”), as we start to learn the truth about what happened all those years ago—and the secret of the room behind the red door. Past and present bleed so seamlessly into each other that we, like the characters, may find ourselves questioning what is “now” and what is memory or illusion. Nell puts it best: “Time is not like a line. Our moments fall around us like rain, or confetti.”
That is perhaps the most terrifying thing about this incarnation of Hill House: once it gets its hooks into the Crain family, its reach extends well beyond the grounds through time and space, poisoning their lives and feeding off their pain like a psychic vampire. Olivia talks about Hill House as a living thing, with bones, a heart, nerves and veins, even an immune system. Hugh warns that the house will defend itself against any attempt to destroy it. He also tells Steven that, to the house, the Crain family is basically an “unfinished meal.”
Hill House is as much a character as any of its inhabitants, ghostly or living, and that is ultimately why Jackson’s story continues to inspire fresh adaptations. Small wonder the series opens and closes by echoing Jackson’s most famous lines: “Hill House stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
