The Flanagan-verse: Haunted by more than ghosts

Mike Flanagan is a prolific filmmaker in the horror world, having released his first notable film in 2011 and continuing to release a slew of horror movies—including Oculus (2013), Hush (2016), and Doctor Sleep (2019), amongst numerous others since. His films have become revered for their ability to seamlessly translate text to on-screen movie adaptations with Stephen King even commenting, "hypnotic, horrifying and terrific," in regards to the author’s rough cut viewing of Flanagan’s 2017 film adaptation of his book Gerald’s Game by the same name.   

Though I am certain all the praise his movies receive is well warranted, the realm from which I am the most familiar with Flanagan has to do with his string of standalone television shows released during his partnership with Netflix. This collection of single-season shows is often affectionately referred to as the “Flanagan-verse” and includes five shows, at the time of this article’s release: The Haunting of Hill House (2018), The Haunting of Bly Manor (2020), Midnight Mass (2021), Midnight Club (2022), and The Fall of the House of Usher (2023). I would like to make it clear, though, that there is no indication that these series are connected plot-wise or that they all take place in the same universe. The grouping of these bodies of work results from the fact that all of them are book adaptations, directed by the same person, through the same streaming service, and—like American Horror Story (2011- )—commonly reuse actors to portray different roles and stories across shows.

What I feel is particularly remarkable about Flanagan’s work lies beneath the seemingly mundane fact that I enjoy it; historically, I have never been one for horror. Generally, I see it as a genre that, by and large, spits out the same handful of stories continuously, without fail, in slightly different ways, with varying degrees of cheap scares. If I do turn on a horror film, it is likely because I am amongst friends, and it tends to be of the thriller or psychological horror varieties. Despite this, I find myself enamored by Flanagan’s work on this conglomerate of projects—having watched my favorite series among them approximately six separate times!

If this affinity of mine isn't rooted in a more generalized enjoyment of horror, you may ask, then where exactly does it come from? The simple answer is storytelling; the complex answer is Flanagan’s ability to push the concept of what, exactly, it means to be haunted. Flanagan uses the horror genre as a backdrop to explore the lasting impact grief, addiction, legacy, tragedy, and much more can have not on individuals alone but on familial units—both by blood and choice. 

Flanagan resists the trappings of commonplace modern-day horror. For proof of such, when criticized about the lack of jumpscares in his projects, he broke the Guinness World Record for most scares in a single episode of television—at 21 total—in his series The Midnight Club (2022), in an attempt to render them as meaningless and ineffective in both the episode itself and the series as a whole. This respect and dedication to his personal vision and reason for “Why horror?” makes me respect him as an artist in return. The source material he pulls from is always fresh and surprising, and when looking into his background it becomes easy to see where he brings in the personal aspect of what he creates, and he has been proven to be more than willing to stick up for what he wants to create. 

After some disagreements between Flanagan and Netflix, after the streaming service refused to follow through on helping Flanagan create a second season for The Midnight Club due to its tepid success, Flanagan seems to be attempting to end their partnership. It has been rumored that Flanagan has been negotiating an overarching TV deal with Amazon as his partner for releases moving forward, even though Netflix still released The Fall of the House of Usher (2023).

While much of this was surface-level for the sake of avoiding spoilers, I hope it inspired you to check out some of—or more of—the “Flanagan-verse” in the future. I most certainly am always on high alert for his latest project(s) and find myself deeply moved by what he creates—in the emotionality and rawness of his surrealistic portfolio, Flanagan pulls no punches!

Thumbnail photo courtesy of Pexels

Previous
Previous

American Tabloid and the underworld vision of James Ellroy

Next
Next

1999 & the mundane oppression: An exploration of masculinity across three films