From Page to Screen & Stage: Flowers in The Attic

Few novels have embedded themselves in the dark hearts of readers like V.C. Andrews’ Flowers in the Attic. With its twisted family dynamics, Gothic atmosphere, and controversial themes—including incest and child abuse—it’s a story that’s both mesmerising and deeply disturbing. Naturally, adapting it to screen (or stage) has always been a challenge.

Over the years, Flowers in the Attic has taken on multiple lives: a softened 1987 feature film, a dark and unproduced screenplay by horror master Wes Craven, a faithful 2014 Lifetime TV movie by Kayla Alpert, and a theatrical stage adaptation by Andrews’ ghostwriter Andrew Neiderman. Each version tells the story in its own way—some sanitise it, others dive straight into its shadows.

So, which version did it best? And how do they stack up against Andrews’ original vision? Let’s take a look.

The 1987 Film: Sanitised and Softened

Directed by Jeffrey Bloom, the 1987 theatrical release of Flowers in the Attic is perhaps the most widely known adaptation—and arguably the most maligned by fans of the book.

What It Got Wrong:

• The most controversial change: the removal of the incestuous relationship between Cathy and Chris.
• The ending was rewritten, turning Corrine’s death into a theatrical hanging, rather than allowing her betrayal to simmer into a slow burn like in the novel.
• The book’s quiet, creeping dread was replaced with dramatic flair and tidy moral closure.

What Worked:

• Louise Fletcher gave a chilling performance as the grandmother, Olivia.
• Visually, it captured the claustrophobia of the attic fairly well.

Ultimately, the film played it safe—far too safe. It stripped away the taboo core of the story in favor of PG-13 melodrama, despite carrying a 15 rating in the UK upon release. What’s left is a pale echo of Andrews’ unsettling prose, a hollow adaptation that skirts controversy instead of confronting it, leaving behind only the ghost of what made the novel so haunting.

Wes Craven’s Lost Adaptation: The Gothic Horror We Never Got

Before the 1987 film was released, A Nightmare on Elm Street director Wes Craven wrote a screenplay that was considered too dark for production. And that’s saying something—coming from the man who invented Freddy Krueger.

What It Got Right:

• Craven retained the incest subplot and handled it with more nuance than sensationalism.
• The poisoning arc and Cory’s death were preserved, true to the novel’s emotional gut punch.
• The script leaned heavily into psychological horror, restoring the Gothic tone Andrews had originally woven.

What It Added:

• A new antagonist: Doberman, a sadistic estate worker with guard dogs, introduced a brutal layer of torment that didn’t exist in the novel.
• A dramatic finale where the children escape and confront Corrine at her wedding—Olivia is crushed to death in a final act of poetic justice.

Craven didn’t shy away from the dark underbelly of the story. Instead, he amplified it. Had it been made, it may have become a cult horror classic. Sadly, studio executives wanted something more marketable.

Kayla Alpert’s 2014 Lifetime Adaptation: A Faithful Revival

More than two decades after the first film, Lifetime took a bold step with a new version written by Kayla Alpert and directed by Deborah Chow. Airing in 2014, it was a surprise success, attracting over six million viewers on premiere night.

What It Got Right:

• Restored the 1950s setting, staying loyal to the novel’s timeframe.
• Included the incest plot, treating it as a tragic outcome of the siblings’ psychological trauma.
• Followed the poisoning storyline and Cory’s death in full.
• Showed Corrine’s betrayal unfolding gradually, just as Andrews intended.

What Worked Especially Well:

• Ellen Burstyn delivered a memorable performance as Olivia, bringing complexity to the cold matriarch.
• The pacing, tone, and atmosphere finally captured the Gothic sensibilities that fans had long hoped for.

The 2014 version was far from perfect, but it was the most faithful adaptation yet—one that didn’t flinch from the darkness, yet handled it with restraint and respect.

A Theatrical Twist: Andrew Neiderman’s Stage Adaptation

While Flowers in the Attic has haunted screens for decades, it eventually found its way to the stage. In 2014, author Andrew Neiderman—V.C. Andrews’ longtime ghostwriter—adapted the novel into a stage play.

What Makes It Unique:

The intimacy of the stage brings the children’s emotional isolation to life in raw, immediate ways.

• Faithful to the original plot, the play includes the incest subplot, Cory’s death, and the full poisoning arc.
• Rather than rely on spectacle, it emphasises character, dialogue, and psychological dread, making the attic feel as suffocating as it is symbolic.

The play had its world premiere in August 2015 in New Orleans, Louisiana, produced by See ’Em On Stage: A Production Company and directed by Christopher Bentivegna. Though it hasn’t hit Broadway or the West End, the play has found life in regional and community theatres, and it represents an underappreciated but powerful adaptation that deserves more attention.

So Which Version Is Best?

That depends on what you’re looking for:

Want the darkest, most haunting take? Wes Craven’s unproduced script is the true horror version, though it only exists on the page.

Prefer a story that follows the novel closely but feels accessible to modern audiences? Kayla Alpert’s Lifetime adaptation wins.

Craving a stripped-down, emotionally intimate experience? The Neiderman stage play offers something uniquely raw.

Need a version that plays it safe for younger or sensitive viewers? The 1987 film is the most watered-down—but also the least representative of Andrews’ original vision.

Conclusion: A Story That Refuses to Be Tamed

Flowers in the Attic is a story that lives in shadows—psychological, sexual, and familial. It’s no wonder filmmakers (and now playwrights) have struggled to capture its eerie essence without tipping into exploitation or retreating into sentimentality.

Wes Craven’s version dared to look into the abyss and got rejected for it. Kayla Alpert’s adaptation found the balance. Andrew Neiderman brought it to the stage with haunting intimacy. And the 1987 film? It remains a curious relic, a film that tried to bury the book’s most disturbing secrets… in a locked attic of its own.