Editorials
35 Years Later, Robert Englund’s ‘976-Evil’ Dials Back to a Bygone Era
Robert Englund steps into the director’s chair with ‘976-Evil,’ a dark dive into Satanism and demonology where a bullied outcast uses an occult hotline to bite back.
“Out of the darkness and into light, comes your horrorscope on this dark and stormy night.”
Robert Englund is a name who needs no introduction in the horror community. He’s played Freddy Krueger in eight A Nightmare on Elm Street movies and has brought life to one of the horror genre’s greatest icons. Englund’s incomparable work as Krueger would be enough to forever make him a celebrity, but he’s had a rich horror career that’s included multiple roles in Tobe Hooper films and, more recently, his standout performance as Victor Creel in the streaming phenomenon, Stranger Things. Englund will always be Freddy Krueger, but it’s curious to consider how his career would have been different if he instead transitioned into a horror director legend. 976-Evil was Englund’s attempt at such a shift and the campy cult classic turns 35 this week.
976-Evil is a gleefully retro tale of revenge that follows two cousins, Hoax (Stephen Geoffreys, who was also Evil Ed in Fright Night) and Spike (Patrick O’Bryan), who are stuck with their religious zealot caretaker who rules over them with an iron fist while they wait out their inheritance. Hoax thinks that he finds a shortcut to popularity and peace of mind when he discovers a malevolent premium pay hotline that begins as an amusing distraction, but turns out to be a literal connection to hell. It’s basically, “What if Freddy Krueger ran a premium paranormal hotline?” (not to be confused with the actual Freddy Krueger pay-per-call hotline that was in operation, mind you). It’s a simple enough premise that works and facilitates a fury of chaotic, creative kills.
976-Evil comfortably fits into the subgenre of horror films where low-status victims of bullying get revenge through supernatural circumstances and the murky moral territory that ensues. It’s very much cut from the same cloth as Evilspeak, Carrie, Slaughter High, Jennifer’s Body and more recent horror films like Friend Request and The Final. 976-Evil bears the closest resemblance to 1981’s Evilspeak and the two make a great ’80s double feature together. 976-Evil assembles commendable talent, but it’s far from this subgenre’s apex.
Robert Englund is a classically trained actor and his talents are best-suited in front of the camera, rather than behind. He still proves that he’s got some skills and creative juice here with his feature directorial debut. It’s curious that Englund never went on to direct one of the final Elm Street movies, for that matter. 976-Evil could have been an interesting prelude to such an experiment, which wouldn’t have necessarily been awful. Renny Harlin, Stephen Hopkins, and Rachel Talalay all bring some unique ideas to the table, but Englund demonstrates here that he wouldn’t have been a disaster behind the camera.
976-Evil is rich in dynamic lighting, striking color composition, and inventive cinematography that speaks to Englund’s eye for visuals, but also cinematographer Paul Elliott’s skills. Elliott was previously the director of photography on Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood, and his skills are just as pronounced here. He’s often 976-Evil’s MVP. 976-Evil’s cinematography and lighting are genuinely great in many scenes, like when Hoax interrupts the poker game. It helps elevate a lot of moments that would otherwise be forgettable.
The following attack in the bathroom is also easily the movie’s most dynamic scene. It succeeds in creating real tension and there’s an artistry to the camera work that demonstrates a real voice that’s interested in more than just cheap kills. It’s even a kill that methodically cuts away from the violence and doesn’t actually show anything for budgetary reasons, yet it still stands out as the movie’s most effective scene.
Visuals aside, 976-Evil is co-written by Brian Helgeland, a truly legendary screenwriter who’s responsible for films like A Knight’s Tale, Mystic River, and L.A. Confidential, the latter of which won him an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay. 976-Evil is Helgeland’s first professional screenplay and what introduced him to Englund, who would go on to recommend him as the writer for A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, his second professional writing credit. This is all a testament to Helgeland’s skills at the craft of heightened horror-fantasy storytelling. 976-Evil is definitely shaggy and trope-filled, but it still leaves its mark as a debut screenplay. It’s unfortunate that Helgeland didn’t stick with the Elm Street series and script the fifth and sixth entries. These sequels could have had a more unifying vision if they functioned as a pseudo trilogy of sorts that closed out the franchise.
It’s also worth pointing out that Helgeland’s co-writer on 976-Evil, Rhet Topham, was also a writer on Freddy’s Nightmares, including the series premiere that revolves around Freddy Krueger’s child murder trial and prominently features Englund. Topham also wrote “Cabin Fever,” one of the few episodes where Englund served as director. It’s interesting that Englund turned to and trusted two writers who had put their stamp on the Nightmare on Elm Street series to pen his directorial feature film debut.
976-Evil thrives when it comes to the blissful ’80s nostalgia that it conjures through the clothing, slang, and general behavior of its characters. All this makes the movie a deeply soothing rewatch 35 years later, even if it’s imperfect shlock. Set design is filled with graphic, sprawling, multi-colored graffiti that’s beautifully evocative of the “troubled youth” of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Perfunctory shots of a car are presented as evil and creepy. They totally channel Christine and reiterate the movie’s inescapable campy energy.
Even the whole 1-900 hotline premise is so inherently steeped in the ’80s and ’90s and gives the film a certain retro charm. It’s something that modern viewers may be completely lost on and it’s a movie that simply couldn’t be made today. It’s been replaced by Internet and app-driven techno-demon fare like Unfriended, Friend Request, or even teen Blumhouse fare like Wish Upon and Truth or Dare, the latter of which are by no means good, but cultivate the same aura. 976-Evil definitely feels like a retro progenitor to these modern supernatural revenge stories where disenfranchised underdogs find ways to fight back. For instance, the date between Hoax and Suzie (Lezlie Deane) where they’re telling jokes, eating pizza, and listening to the jukebox is genuinely sweet and quickly establishes a real relationship between them that treats them like real people. It’s just a shame that people are most likely watching this for scares, not swoons
Unfortunately, 976-Evil takes far too long to get to its central premise and kills. It’s more than half-way through the movie that Hoax turns to the titular horrorscope hotline and starts enacting vengeance in those who have wronged him. The film should start with a tease of this service, and an early death, to set the scene and showcase what lies ahead so there’s a greater sense of tension over the bullying and if Hoax will let his emotions get the better of him and turn to this fatal service. It’s a quick change that would go a long way and help audiences look past the slower pacing and lack of scares that fill up most of the film (Curiously, this is the approach that 976-Evil II: The Astral Factor takes, seemingly having learned from the original’s flaws).
The same is true for the FBI agent component where he begins to investigate these crimes, which happens nearly an hour into the movie. It’s definitely a perfunctory element of the genre, but it’s something that could definitely be dropped to little consequence, or enter the picture much earlier so there’s a greater threat that looms over the characters beyond generic bullies. What does work here is everyone’s suspicion of Spike over these crimes, rather than cluing into his meeker cousin Hoax’s complicity. 976-Evil could have even kept things a little more ambiguous so that the audience is torn over who’s to blame and Hoax’s reveal hits harder and comes as a surprise.
On that note, the film would benefit from a greater understanding of what’s actually going on with the 976-Evil service and what the risks are behind its employment. Do the individuals lose their souls? Become slaves to Satan? Or some other macabre monkey’s paw-esque cruel twist of fate? Any of these angles would be effective. A prologue that seeds these elements through a random horrorscope user who succumbs to this darkness would once again clear these things up and strengthen the film’s storytelling. It’s not a great sign when Wishmaster does a better job at defining its rules, stakes, and underlying evil.
There’s a great concept at the core of this film, but for the majority of 976-Evil it seems like it’s ashamed to embrace it and go all out, which is exactly what this movie needs. Subtlety is not a friend to 976-Evil. Hoax basically becomes a Freddy Krueger clone by the end of the movie with his disfigured face, claw-like hand, and constant quippy one-liners. It doesn’t exactly feel inspired to see Englund cultivate such a generic Freddy copycat.
That being said, 976-Evil has some memorable death scenes, even if its tarantula kill is wildly undercooked and takes out the most interesting character too early. There’s an electrocution that is well-executed. Another victim gets eaten by cats, which is much better and more in line with the tone and timbre that the movie should be striving towards. Englund got the cats to be so compliant here by stuffing the corpse dummy with tuna salad, which is actually a clever and creative idea. Regardless of the above, there just aren’t enough deaths to go around in 976-Evil. The final act, which literally descends to hell, proves to be an effective way to conclude the messy movie.
976-Evil has its share of shortcomings. However, there’s an extended cut of the film, which was released to home video, that features an extra thirteen minutes of footage that was not in the theatrical release. These are mostly changes that provide greater character development and motivation, rather than gore and kills. It’s easy to see why these scenes were removed for pacing purposes. They’re not essential, nor do they really change the movie. It’s unlikely that someone who doesn’t like the theatrical cut of 976-Evil will suddenly be swayed by seeing this longer version. It’s not even necessarily a “better” movie, but it does have more fleshed out characters.
976-Evil wasn’t a smash hit and didn’t get anywhere near A Nightmare on Elm Street’s success. That being said, it still left enough of an impression on audiences to receive a direct-to-video sequel, albeit not with Robert Englund. 976-Evil II: The Astral Factor instead has Jim Wynorski in the director’s chair. Wynorski is a man who got into cinema “for the money and the chicks” and once famously claimed that “breasts are the cheapest special effect in the business.” Wynorski had a hand in over 100 movies, most of which are direct-to-video, with Chopping Mall, Sorceress, The Turn of the Swamp Thing, and Ghoulies IV being among his most notable efforts. He also worked on many Roger Corman efforts, children’s movies like Munchie and Munchie Strikes Back, as well as plenty of horror-centric adult movie parodies like Cleavagefield, The Bare Wench Project, and Para-Knockers Activity. In 976-Evil II, Spike returns, this time to battle a serial killer college professor who uses astral projection and the 976 horrorscope hotline to kill his students. Somehow, it’s not any worse than its predecessor.
976-Evil is a dated horror film that’s largely slipped through the cracks and failed to leave much of a footprint on the genre, yet this all makes it an even more fascinating ’80s relic. It’s better that Englund takes a big swing here, even if he doesn’t hit a grand slam. It’s a worthy experiment, albeit one that doesn’t fully tune out the dissonance of its dial tone. 976-Evil didn’t build an illustrious directorial career for Englund (and the less said about 2008’s Killer Pad, the better) and he would ultimately head back to the Elm Street series. There are far worse fates than forever being known as Freddy Krueger. 35 years later, 976-Evil remains a fascinating collect call that’s worth accepting the charges from.
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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