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“Pangs”: Revisiting the Thanksgiving Episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”

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Throughout its seven-season run, Buffy the Vampire Slayer tackled the major holidays. “Amends” gave a twist to It’s a Wonderful Life for Christmas, Halloween was celebrated in at least three episodes over the series’ run, and the show even managed to make a musical event not seem so silly. Any other show would’ve stopped there; their checkboxes for holiday tributes considered completed. Series creator Joss Whedon had been sitting on a Thanksgiving-themed episode idea for a while, though.

In season four, he gathered the Scooby gang together for a Friendsgiving dinner complete with the angry spirits of the holiday. Originally airing on November 23, 1999, “Pangs” remains one of the few Thanksgiving episodes of genre TV and also one of the more controversial.

By season four, Buffy’s (Sarah Michelle Gellar) former flame Angel (David Boreanaz) had departed Sunnydale for his spinoff series, and she’d graduated on to college. Willow (Alyson Hannigan) is mourning the loss of her relationship with Oz (Seth Green), and Xander (Nicholas Brendan) is exploring a new relationship with Anya (Emma Caufield), a reformed demon. Even Giles (Anthony Head) is struggling to find purpose. The major upheaval in their lives finds Buffy desperate for some nostalgic comfort in the form of Thanksgiving, especially with her mom out of town. She convinces the gang to pull together for a makeshift holiday gathering.

“Pangs,” the eighth episode of the season, kicks off its madness with a groundbreaking ceremony for an Anthropology building on Sunnydale’s college campus. Xander happens to be working construction on the groundbreaking, and when the ground shifts, he falls into a forgotten historic site where he accidentally frees a vengeful spirit. The spirit, Hus, is a former Chumash warrior that wants revenge on behalf of his people. As such, he begins hunting and slaughtering any that he deems a leader of current society.

A vengeful spirit slaying people left and right sounds like a black and white definition of evil that must be defeated, right? Except for the first time Buffy battles Hus, she’s caught dead in her tracks when he tells her she must be so thrilled to conquer and snuff out the Chumash once again. It sparks off an episode-long debate between Giles, Willow, Spike (James Marsters), and the gang on historical guilt and past oppression. Whether or not certain types of evil should be allowed to exist. Hus may be killing people in the present day, but his wrath on behalf of his people is understandable. The group spirals into infighting over the matter, and the origins of Thanksgiving itself.

Making things even more complicated, Xander was stricken with magical syphilis. It’s played for laughs in the episode, but Spanish explorers did bring many diseases with them to California centuries ago that decimated Native Americans. Including syphilis. Bringing ethics and race into an episode is always a target for controversy, and trying to balance it out with humor fuels the fire. But twenty years later, these same discussions still feel timely. They always elicit raw feelings and heated debate. There are no easy, comfortable answers. Not then, not now.

The episode climaxes in a major battle over the Thanksgiving dinner table, arrows flung and resurrected warriors battling it out with the Scooby gang. When Buffy proves too formidable for Hus, he shapeshifts into an actual bear. A moment that also offers up some humor. Homicidal spirits must be stopped to prevent further bloodshed. The episode concludes with the friends finally sitting down to eat dinner.

It wasn’t the traditional holiday Buffy envisioned, but it wound up being the one she needed. A makeshift family made up of a Slayer, a neutered vampire, a reformed demon, a father figure, and her two closest friends provided the support they all needed to ease the growing pains. More importantly, it’s a perfect way to demonstrate that sometimes tradition is meant to be bucked.

As a whole, “Pangs” is a complicated episode. It’s trying to set up a crossover event between Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, juggle the various character arcs of the season, move forward the season-long plot, and dig into the meaty origins of Thanksgiving and all its social implications. That it shifts tone between seriousness and humor only complicates it further. Whedon and episode writer Jane Espenson created one ballsy episode. One that still elicits debate among scholars and critics twenty years later.

But through it all, it still serves as a heartfelt holiday reminder that sometimes you need a good meal among those you love to get you through a rough patch.

Horror journalist, RT Top Critic, and Critics Choice Association member. Has appeared on PBS series' Monstrum, served on the SXSW Midnighter shorts jury, and moderated horror panels for WonderCon, SeriesFest, and Popcorn Frights Film Fest.

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Editorials

What Mike Flanagan’s ‘Carrie’ Teaser Reveals About His Bold New Adaptation

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Mike Flanagan Carrie Series

Five decades ago, Stephen King published the story of a bullied girl with telekinetic powers and forever changed the world of horror.

Carrie follows a high school misfit who seeks revenge for a hideous prank by psychically destroying her senior prom. The name Carrie White has become synonymous with the concept of a formal dance thanks to a flawless adaptation from Brian De Palma. Now fifty years after the film’s release, Mike Flanagan is putting his own stamp on the troubling story.

Rather than a feature film, the writer/director will expand King’s relatively slim debut novel into an eight-episode miniseries for Amazon Prime set to premiere on October 7.

Flanagan is no stranger to the world of Stephen King. A long-time Constant Reader, he first made waves with his daring adaptation of Gerald’s Game (2017), a novel many fans considered un-filmable. His underrated Doctor Sleep merges the disparate plot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining with King’s original source material, and his 2024 genre-bending tearjerker The Life of Chuck faithfully executes one of the author’s most metaphysical novellas.

He’s currently mired in pre-production for an expansive adaptation of The Dark Tower series, keystone to King’s connected universe, and Warner Bros. recently announced that Flanagan will helm a new version of The Mist, King’s 1980 novella which sees a small Maine town overrun by otherworldly monsters. 

Considering the vast array of the author’s previously unadapted material, an obvious question arises. Why reimagine Carrie in 2026? Noting the timeless nature of the content, Flanagan expressed his desire to bring the story of a bullied girl into modern times, mirroring his approach to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. He explained, “The only way to approach it was to build something new out of the ingredients of Carrie. Otherwise, there’s really no purpose in trying to retread ground that’s been so beautifully walked before.”

His miniseries will maintain the novel’s bloody bookends while delivering “big surprises” along the way. 

A New Prom Night Nightmare

The roughly 60-second teaser introduces Summer H. Howell as Carrie White just before the moment of catastrophe. Standing in a prom dress, she smiles at her applauding classmates with an ominous crown perched upon her head. Moments later, Carrie unleashes a rage-filled scream into the night air while promgoers rush for the exit doors. But careful examination of this scene shows Carrie wearing a different, albeit dirty dress as she seems to telekinetically punish her peers

In an exclusive first look with Entertainment Weekly, Flanagan explains that in his version of the story, “the events of that prom are going to be completely different.” An open trunk emitting a crimson glow does hint at the pig’s blood dumped on Carrie’s head, but it’s likely Flanagan’s formal dance will be a different kind of horror altogether. Despite these changes, the series may end with the widespread destruction outlined in the source material. Unlike any previous adaptations, King’s novel ends with the near-total destruction of Chamberlain, Maine. A flaming street in Flanagan’s trailer promises similar carnage no matter what prank sparks Carrie’s deadly revenge. 

The Monstrous Addition of Social Media

On the opposite end of this fiery conclusion is an extreme act of bullying that brings together the story’s main cast. King’s novel begins as Carrie gets her first period while showering in the girls’ locker room. Completely unaware of the concept of menstruation, the sheltered girl thinks she’s bleeding to death. Her classmates respond with vitriolic rage. Led by ultra-mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton), they mock the terrified teen while pelting her with tampons. Glimpses of this disturbing event reveal that Flanagan has excised the scene’s nudity while adding a seismic update. As Carrie sobs in the shower stall, Chris and her friends film the breakdown with their phones.

Other scenes note the presence of social media, bringing King’s fifty-year-old story into the digital age. 

Flanagan’s adaptation promises to explore the destructive power of social media, an often invisible entity with a potential for harm rivaling Carrie’s own powers. While King’s tormented heroine suffers in front of a small group of girls, Flanagan’s version of the incident will likely become a viral video, potentially circling the globe on social media. Similar to Katt Shea’s criminally underrated The Rage: Carrie 2, which includes elements of revenge porn exploitation, Flanagan’s modern retelling will distinguish itself by exploring the nebulous cruelty of online bullying, a force ten times more powerful than the irl pranks King first envisioned. 

A Completely Reimagined White Family

In addition to modernizing these canon events, Flanagan hints at updates to Carrie’s oppressive upbringing at the hands of her mother, Margaret White (Samantha Sloyan). Dead before the novel begins, we never meet Carrie’s domineering father Ralph, known to carry a bible alongside his gun. Flanagan’s White household will be an altogether different beast. In his version of the story, Carrie and her mother have been hidden away in the unassuming home, forced out of hiding by Ralph’s unexpected death. Perhaps we will finally meet this elusive man whose shadow hangs over his wife and child. Considering the White family’s fundamentalist lifestyle, this reimagining hints at tradwife culture and a home ruled by staunch patriarchal control.

Whereas King’s Carrie has been tormented by her classmates since Kindergarten, Flanagan’s Carrie will be a wide-eyed newcomer to public school, eager to make friends and engage with her peers. We glimpse Carrie cozying up to Chris and the equally popular Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) as she navigates a new social scene. Of course, we know this kindness is part of an elaborate plot designed to lull Carrie into a false sense of camaraderie, setting up an atrocious act of public humiliation. These brief moments of feigned compassion put Sue’s own complicity into question. Will Flanagan’s version of the character find the courage to defend Carrie from vicious bullies or will she succumb to peer pressure and join in the mob mentality? 

Perhaps the biggest deviation from King’s original text is the relationship between Carrie and her mother. King’s Margaret White is a horrifically abusive religious zealot whose worldview has been hardened by internalized misogyny. She shames Carrie for menstruating, locks her in a closet to “pray,” and regrets not killing her child in infancy. She’s also responsible for Carrie’s social ostracization. Known to berate her neighbors for their “sins,” Margaret forces her daughter to live by an extreme code of conduct and disallows any potential friends lest they corrupt the girl with their worldly ways.

Flanagan’s version of the character is perhaps just as much a victim as Carrie herself. Also trapped inside her home, his Margaret is overly vigilant, her own trauma manifesting as strict control. Describing a more sympathetic depiction of the iconic villain, Flanagan explains, “Our Margaret White is a woman who fiercely loves her daughter and wants to protect her from this world … [She] doesn’t know how to do that and thinks the way to protect her is to close her off; not punitively, but to create this private utopia.”

Despite this potential softening, Sloyan’s Margaret may still have a sharp edge. Though she has appeared in many Flanagan projects, from Hush (2016) to The Fall of the House of Usher (2023), she is best known for her role as the abhorrent Bev Keane in the poignant saga Midnight Mass (2021). Perhaps inspired by King’s Margaret White, Bev is pious and sadistic, willing to punish anyone who does not adhere to her warped approximation of Catholicism.

Flanagan specifically wrote Margaret with Sloyan in mind, likely remembering the actress’s eerie ability to create deceptive empathy and shift our allegiances on a dime.   

Expanding Stephen King’s Telekinetic Universe

While most of King’s story deals with an unthinkable prom night in Chamberlain, Maine, large sections of the semi-epistolary novel see experts debating the nature of telekinesis. Do Carrie’s frightening abilities represent a new phase in human evolution or is the prom night carnage merely a fluke? King settles the debate with a shocking denouement in which a young mother recounts her infant daughter’s ability to dangle her crib toys in midair. We’re left to wonder if she will become another tormented girl who surprises the world with metaphysical strength. 

Flanagan plans to build out this brief scene while amplifying themes of female empowerment. After introducing our main cast of characters, episode two will open with an unrelated story in which we meet another girl with the TK gene. Each subsequent chapter will expand this world, building out a roster of telekinetic young women. Considering King’s fondness for stories about powerful kids, often described as possessing “the shining,” Constant Readers will no doubt have their eyes peeled for various Easter Eggs nodding to the author’s vast catalogue. 

Giving Carrie Her Own Voice

Perhaps the most striking distinction in Flanagan’s new trailer is the extent to which we hear Carrie’s voice. The sneak peek is fully narrated by the titular prom queen as she demands accountability. “I want to know why,” she explains while detailing Chris’ elaborate plan. Aside from the aforementioned coda, King’s book essentially ends with the aftermath of the prom night tragedy, leaving little time for Carrie to reflect. His shifting narrative does bring the reader into her fragile mind, though not before she’s been cowed by relentless cruelty. We watch Carrie sink into bloodthirsty revenge, but never hear a considered desire for justice or repair. 

Flanagan’s original monologue allows Carrie to voice her pain and mourn the life she could have had. We’re also treated to a mug shot-style photo of Chris with a bruised and bandaged face, implying that the mean girl will have to answer for her senseless sadism.

Flanagan is known for filling his series adaptations with heartwrenching speeches that cut to the heart of his thematic intentions, and this teaser seems to follow suit. After years of fans, critics, and scholars analyzing Carrie’s pain, perhaps his modern retelling will offer the titular anti-hero a chance to finally speak for herself

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