Midnight Mass Outshines Carrie as Mike Flanagan’s Strongest Netflix Miniseries

Long before Mike Flanagan took charge of the Prime Video adaptation of Stephen King’s Carrie, he made his name with a trilogy of Netflix TV miniseries. He has a knack for blending horror with a genuine exploration of human lives. More recently, The Fall of the House of Usher reimagined classic Edgar Allan Poe tales to terrifying success, with each episode adapting a different story.

Before that, though, one Flanagan project stuck with fans in a way most showrunners can only dream of. It stepped back from haunted houses and moved to something bigger: faith. Once faith enters a story, the structure changes.

Midnight Mass looks like a show about vampires on the surface. It is, but its heart is far more human. The series works as an allegory for emotions like grief and loss, and it pushes viewers to confront their own problems. It keeps the monsters out of sight for as long as possible. Once they appear, it’s hard to imagine ever not seeing them for what they are, much like in real life.

What happens when faith isn’t everything?

The show is set on Crockett Island, a tiny fishing community that has long since fallen into disrepair. Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford) moves back after being released from prison. Things have gotten worse since he left. The island’s population and fishing prospects are dwindling, and the community doesn’t seem to have much time left.

Riley is far from the only one struggling. Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli) is the island’s only Muslim resident, and the community’s predominant Catholic faith sets him at odds with his neighbors. Bev Keane (Samantha Sloyan) is the town’s religious zealot, clinging desperately to her faith amid the suffocating despair of the remaining citizens. When Father Paul Hill (Hamish Linklater) arrives to replace the aging priest, it seems that something good is finally within reach.

Religion changes the situation. The frightened townspeople cling to Father Paul at once, and their blind faith starts to lead them down dark paths. Like most miracles, his comes with a price, one his congregation cannot yet fathom. Father Paul is cloaked in charisma, wearing it like a priest’s robe, and he keeps his terrible secret hidden.

When faith simply isn’t enough

Flanagan takes viewers on an emotional ride. Like his earlier work, Midnight Mass leans heavily on dialogue, and much of its emotional strength comes from those moments. The series questions blind faith and also explores the consequences.

The townspeople latch onto Father Paul because of the hope he represents after their long struggles. They don’t know how temporary that hope will be. In a way, it’s beautiful, since hope and faith are often among the few things people can hold onto. Viewers know the peace won’t last, and that anticipation heightens the poignancy of the story.

Midnight Mass falls squarely into horror, but its layers make it more than the sum of its monsters. Humans make choices and mistakes, and they fear what comes after death. Flanagan explores those themes deftly, and the show has cemented itself as his best work.

Source: Polygon