Editorials
10 Twisted Horror Anthology TV Episodes Perfect for Halloween
Tales From the Television looks back at standalone episodes from various TV anthologies. Each collection of stories, every one based on a specific theme, is proof that even the small screen can deliver big frights.
The power of anthologies rests in their potency — the ability to entertain in a limited amount of time. This sounds easy in theory, but as anyone who’s ever created short fiction of any kind, they know otherwise. World-building, scaring, and enthralling audiences with so little time on the clock is never easy; standalone segments have to earn their existence more than longer features do.
One thing that certainly makes the traditional horror anthology show so attractive — the kind where the episodes are self-contained and disconnected to any kind of overarching plot — is the twist. This staple of bottled storytelling makes or breaks, accentuates, and immortalizes. While most episodes have this basic feature, some twists remain better than others.
The Twilight Zone (1959): “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?”
Rod Serling’s influential anthology gave a voice to unspoken concerns and progressive ideas that weren’t being expressed too often, if at all, on television at the time. The Twilight Zone also never forgot to entertain nor did its themes replace storytelling. A remarkable episode like “Will the Real Martian Please Stand Up?” captures paranoia and xenophobia in under half an hour, and the witty ending is hard to forget.
State troopers investigating reports of a UFO discover footprints leading out of a frozen pond and to a nearby late-night diner. Inside, the passengers of a bus parked outside are each suspected of being the alien intruder. One by one, they’re cleared until the real culprit is revealed.
The Frighteners (1972): “Bed and Breakfast”
“Bed and Breakfast,” from the non-supernatural British anthology The Frighteners, meticulously unfurls the characters’ ulterior motives before setting loose a twist that no one could have foresaw. Audiences will be shocked by both the revelation and conclusion.
A couple driving through the countryside late at night stops at a remote house. After affixing a sign to a tree that claims the place is a B&B, the man and woman practically invite themselves into the owners’ home and demand a room for the night. The elderly residents begrudgingly allow the couple to stay, but they soon regret their generosity as their guests have sinister intentions.
Tales of the Unexpected (1979): “The Flypaper”
Although Roald Dahl’s work was the original basis of this anthology, the show quickly found inspiration elsewhere. “The Flypaper” continues the series’ history of tragic and harsh outcomes for the characters, but the episode is especially eager to please those looking for more brio in their dark twists.
News of a serial killer stalking children has a small community on edge. A girl is forbidden from talking to strangers, but on her way home from school, she’s approached by a suspicious man who she fears might be the murderer. The girl evades him thanks to the help of a kind woman, but that won’t be the last she sees of the man.
Tales from the Darkside (1983): “The Cutty Black Sow”
For four seasons, George A. Romero, Richard P. Rubinstein, and the rest of the Darkside staff gifted audiences with the most bizarre stories to ever grace television. Not every episode was as successful as the next when it came to surprising twists, but “The Cutty Black Sow” totally catches viewers off guard. This Halloween-set story delves into Gaelic folklore and uncovers a malevolent entity fairly unheard of outside of Europe. Screenwriter Michael McDowell (Beetlejuice), whose only directed work in the series is “Seasons of Belief,” does a faithful job of adapting Thomas F. Monteleone’s short story about family obligations and ancient evils.
Before she finally passes away, Jamie’s great-grandmother asks him to prevent her soul from being claimed by a horrific demon called the Cutty Black Sow. The creature then stalks the boy as he stays home alone on Halloween night.
The Ray Bradbury Theater (1985): “The Emissary”
This episode understands scares don’t necessarily equal horror. In fact, “The Emissary” is seemingly wholesome with no hint of anything nasty on the horizon; the story plays things close to the vest and gives viewers a nice surprise. Another bonus is the thoroughly autumnal setting — carnelian leaves decorate the town, jack-o’-lanterns sit idly in the background, and talk of trick-or-treating can be heard. And before anyone accuses Bradbury of siphoning the popular 1983 work of another renowned author of horror whose name shall not be mentioned to avoid spoilers, they should remember the short story this episode is based on, was first published in 1947.
A young, sick boy who can’t go outside has a dog who fetches him everything his heart desires. This includes a caring teacher who changes the child’s life in an astounding way.
Tales from the Crypt (1989): “House of Horror”
Filmed inside the derelict, looming house previously seen in Nothing but Trouble, “House of Horror” feels like a greatest hits collection of other Tales from the Crypt episodes. There are also several familiar faces here: Kevin Dillon, Wil Wheaton, Brian Krause, Meredith Salenger, Jason London, and Keith Coogan. This offering blatantly plants the makings of its first twist, but as the episode nears an end, you realize there’s more to the story.
A fraternity on probation is approached by a new sorority on campus; the frat is asked to become their affiliate. The pledgemaster instead asks the sorority members to accompany them to their pledges’ final ritual at an off-site location: a creepy, old house supposedly haunted by an ax murderer’s ghost. The initiation doesn’t go quite as well as everyone expected seeing as the venue isn’t exactly empty.
Goosebumps (1995): “Welcome to Camp Nightmare”
It’s pretty common for anthology stories to end things with a cliffhanger that suggests the characters are still in trouble; the same can be said for R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps. “Welcome to Camp Nightmare,” however, seeks some resolution while still raising more questions. The startling ending is essentially lifted from classic Twilight Zone, too.
Billy is having a miserable time at summer camp, but his experience only worsens with news of a horrible creature, Sabre, prowling the woods. There is also a cloud of mystery surrounding the “Forbidden Bunk” that may have something to do with all the disappearing campers.
Night Visions (2001): “A View Through the Window”
Actor Bill Pullman pulls double duty in his segment of Fox’s Night Visions; he both stars in “A View Through the Window” as well as directs it. The episode focuses on the military investigating an anomaly in the middle of the desert: an idyllic, lush farm, surrounded by an invisible force field, appears out of nowhere. Pullman’s character becomes so intent on finding an entrance into this strange world that he never stops to think what the other side could be like. It’s a guileful “the grass is greener” kind of story accented with an unkind ending.
Inside No. 9 (2014) – “The Devil of Christmas”
It seems unconventional to watch anything Christmas-themed outside of December, but horror also isn’t contained to one season. Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton’s acclaimed anthology is thoroughly eclectic; their stab at holiday horror features one of the show’s biggest rug pulls and some of the show’s best pastiche work.
In this Christmas special, a man (Derek Jacobi) provides audio commentary as the audience at home watches a ‘70s movie called “The Devil of Christmas.” The film sees an unpleasant fate unfold for the actors, who are playing an English family vacationing at an Austrian chalet.
Bobcat Goldthwait’s Misfits & Monsters (2018): “Goatman Cometh”
This short-lived anthology from stand-up comic and director Bobcat Goldthwait was largely comedic, but episodes like this are dipped in horror. The series’ creator is no stranger to the genre since he directed the Bigfoot movie Willow Creek; his distinct sense of humor is writ large in God Bless America. “Goatman Cometh” puts Goldthwait’s twisted mind to work and the results are wickedly fun.
Melissa Joan Hart plays a single mother who’s desperate for her young son to fit in and make friends. When she invites a few of his classmates over for a backyard campout one night, the kids are attacked by the infamous Goatman that preys on local children. Of course, things are not what they seem and the characters uncover something far more menacing than a supposed cryptid lurking in their neighborhood.
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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