On Oct. 1, 2026, Netflix released a seven-episode miniseries adapting John Steinbeck’s 1952 novel East of Eden. The story follows the Trask family, beginning with brothers Charles and Adam’s childhood and extending through the upbringing of Adam’s twin sons, Caleb and Aron. A rift is torn between both generations of brothers by the cunning and power-seeking Cathy Ames, begrudging wife of Adam and mother to the twins. The narrative explores the tension between nature and nurture and whether fate really is set in stone by paralleling the biblical tale of Cain and Abel.
Sitting at over 600 pages, I was initially skeptical that East of Eden could be properly adapted to the screen. I first read the novel in high school, and it’s one of my favorite books—if there was ever going to be an adaptation of the story, I wanted it to be done right. Thankfully, I can now say with confidence that even though it’s not perfect (what adaptation is?), Netflix’s East of Eden did proper justice to the original novel.
excellent casting
I first have to give a major shoutout to the casting choices for this adaptation. I’m not too familiar with Christopher Abbott (Adam Trask) or Mike Faist (Charles Trask), but both their performances were so convincing that I have no doubt they’re who I will picture as the characters next time I read the book. Their on-screen dynamic perfectly encapsulates the tension that permeates Adam and Charles’ relationship and provides the perfect narrative setup for Caleb and Aron’s relationship.
I also loved Florence Pugh as Cathy Ames. Her starring role was a major selling point in the advertisements for the miniseries, and I can see why—Pugh gives it her all. I can think of no one better to play the hot-cold, conniving, fiercely independent Cathy.
Pugh even gives an intriguing depth to Cathy’s character, emphasizing the narrative’s central question of whether anyone is really born evil or if they just make the choice to be. Between the way Pugh’s expression changes at the drop of a hat after other characters leave the room and the poise-crumbling terror Pugh portrays when Cathy starts to lose her sanity, I adore how artistically manipulative but human Pugh made Cathy feel.
Even the casting for the children and side characters were great and really helped immerse me in the story’s new format. And, as I expected, I loved every scene with Lee. He’s even more of a stereotype-breaking icon in the show than in the book, thanks to actor Hoon Lee.
the power of a good score
Music is an essential part of film and television, especially with an adaptation as grand in scale as this one. I’d even argue it’s just as important as all the visual components that work together to enhance a narrative. And not only did East of Eden not disappoint with its stunning visual style, consistently contrasting light and dark, but its score is incredible too.
Composed by Laura Karpman, an Academy Award nominee and Emmy recipient, East of Eden‘s score is deep, distinct, and beautiful. The choice to write most of the score for orchestral instruments, and often in the style of classical orchestral pieces, worked incredibly well in grounding the show in its time period (the early 1900s). I especially loved the musical theme Karpman composed for Cathy Ames, which stuck in my head for days after finishing the show. Ranging from sweeping movements for landscape shots or timelapses to slightly unnerving pieces for the show’s darker moments, East of Eden’s score was a major win for me.
the good and bad of pacing
Not surprisingly, the pacing of the adaptation is what I found most issue with. I thought the first few episodes were paced really well, giving the story of Charles and Adam’s history time to breathe and sit with the viewer. I really felt the tragedy of the brothers’ upbringing, and though I knew where things would go, it still hurt when their fragile reconciliation broke under Cathy’s interference. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like Caleb and Aron’s part of the story got the same treatment.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that the show didn’t ignore East of Eden‘s brilliant roster of memorable side characters (looking at you, Lee). Still, I was a little disappointed by how little time the show spends on Caleb and Aron’s relationship to each other, which is a large part of the book. Their childhoods and teen years are perhaps the most important aspect to the tension between nature and nurture in the narrative, and I can’t help but feel that some of the impact from that was lost in the show. It felt like they went from loving each other to being distant in an instant, with no real payoff for Caleb’s concerns that he’s inherently bad, either.
a feminist recentering
Pacing issues aside, there was one new thing Netflix’s East of Eden did that really clicked with me. In the novel, Steinbeck doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on Cathy’s past and the reason she fights so hard for her independence. However, the show makes it clear from the get-go that Cathy is a much more complex character.
Show creator Zoe Kazan did an excellent job, in my opinion, of fleshing out Cathy’s character to better serve the narrative. Cathy was not born evil, but her early awakening to gender inequality and sexual violence convinced her to take a path that would consistently harm the people around her (especially men) if it meant gaining her independence. It doesn’t make her character “redeemable,” as I’ve seen some people complain online, it just gives her actions an explanation. And makes her final scene more emotionally painful.
Even though this larger focus on Cathy does disrupt the pacing of the show some, I really appreciate this feminist approach to retelling a classic story. Having now watched the show, I think this is one of the main things Kazan was going for, and it gave me a whole new appreciation for East of Eden. Even if you haven’t read the novel, I highly encourage you to watch this miniseries.