The Haunting of Bly Manor: A Review

A note: The beginning of this review is spoiler-free!! 

On October 9th, the highly anticipated miniseries The Haunting of Bly Manor was released on Netflix. During the following weekend, I watched three episodes a day, culminating on Sunday evening when I finished it. After sobbing all the way through the last episode, I subsequently laid on the ground and stared at the ceiling silently. About ten minutes later, I went to my Snapchat private story and begged my close friends to watch it, through my tears I declared: “Bly Manor picked me up, chewed me up, and spit me out in the best way possible.” This doesn’t make sense, but it’s the best representation of my feelings. I continued to sob, getting out the words: “I’ve never seen myself, my thoughts, my hopes, and my fears all wrapped up in one character but I’m so glad I did.” My central reason for loving this series, beyond it being a well-crafted horror miniseries, was how much I connected with one of the characters.

The Haunting of Bly Manor is based on several Henry James short stories, drawing heavily from the 1898 short story, The Turning of the Screw. Mike Flanagan wrote and directed the screenplay. He is most known for his horror films, including Oculus, Doctor Sleep, and the 2018 series, The Haunting of Hill House. Hill House changed my outlook on life, grief, and family, so I have been impatiently awaiting Bly Manor for two years. This series was worth the wait. Plus, for people like me who hate jump scares, this series has a relatively small amount compared to other horror films.  

From this point forward, there will be spoilers!  Read at your own risk!

The main characters of this series are the four adults who live in Bly Manor and two children.  They are all adapted from The Turning of the Screw. There is Hannah, the religious housekeeper. Bly Manor is her home, and she will protect it at any cost. There is Own, the sweet cook. His kindness is second only to his dad jokes. There is Jamie, the tough gardener who trusts only her plants. Then, there is Dani, the new au pair for the two children. Her stubborn bravery and big heart mean she will defend those she loves with her entire soul. The two children in question are Miles and Flora: sweet but strange orphans, prone to odd outbursts.  These four adults all have love for each other and create a family unit for the children.  Everyone, well, almost everyone, sits at the table and eats together. Romance blossoms between these four adults, adding to the love in this house.

The best example of this is Dani and Jamie’s relationship. Honestly, this is the best depiction of a lesbian romance I have seen in any TV show. As soon as Jamie walked into the story, I noticed some queercoded elements to her character, and I was worried it wasn’t going to be explored. This was so wrong, thank goodness. Dani and Jamie have such a healthy relationship, and watching their domestic bliss made me happy in ways I cannot express. Their love was grounded in the knowledge that, due to Dani giving herself up fully to her trauma, they might not last forever. The heartbreak at the end gutted me in ways that I cannot express. 

I’ve never seen myself in a character as much as I saw myself in Dani. Her stubborn bravery, her struggles with compulsory heterosexuality, and her style are all parts of her that I connected with. Seriously, her sweaters, high waisted jeans and scrunchie combos were out of this world and exactly like things I have in my closet. Her selflessness is so admirable. She gives herself up fully to save others, even knowing that this will be at the cost of everything. Her guilt follows her through half the season. For the first few episodes, she is haunted by the image of her dead fiancé standing next to her reflection. In episode four, she acknowledges this grief and guilt, and it stops following her. She is only able to give it up after she accepts her love for Jamie and allows herself to be loved in return. After their 10+ years together, she realizes that her past trauma is still with her, and she leaves to protect Jamie. I cried all the way through the final episode because it was like watching my deepest fears come to life.  

As I sit writing this, I just want to rewatch this series and catch everything that I missed.  Flanagan hides ghosts in the background of every scene, so sitting down to watch it again can feel like a fun scavenger hunt. I feel so thankful to have watched this show, and I cannot recommend it enough. Is my bookmarks tab on Twitter just fancams of Jamie and Dani with Folklore songs playing in the background? I’ll never say. 

• horror
• Netflix
• tv show