Adaptations are tricky: stray too far from the source and there is outrage, adhere too lavishly and the result lacks its own voice. This is compounded when adapting a beloved work and arguably the greatest haunted house novel of all time. Writer/director Mike Flanagan took this challenge as a passion project and crafted a series standing proudly by the original while updating and expounding upon the core narrative and themes. There are very few times I consider an adaptation equal to the source, even rarer an adaptation enhances and augments the material. This is the latter. Rather than transcribe characters and plot, everything is transposed to create a parallel story building atop Shirley Jackson's masterpiece: adding layers and levels inline with the text's themes and meditations. Flanagan proves he is a master of merging psychological terror with visceral scares, slowly building each through excellent writing and characterization. The frights themselves, be they of a psychological variety or pure horrific visual are utterly terrifying and masterfully executed, with the drama at the core uniquely haunting on emotional levels. The pace is measured and initial episodes may frustrate as they devote extensive time developing their cast of characters. But each scare is not simply earned, but specifically tailored to each character's core drives and personality, the payoff only enhanced by each and every second informing this understanding. The level and attention to subtle character development is awe-inspiring and by the end of each episode you will intimately understand a member of the Crain family, how and why they developed from children into adulthood and how Hill House persists in haunting their present. Fans will recognize how adeptly Flanagan melds past events and the present, with brilliant editing and thematic bridges seamlessly blending shots between decades. Cleverly true to the source, he has crafted a Rashomon narrative, where overlapping and often conflicting perspectives slowly unveiling the scope of a larger story. How each character and event unfolds is a masterclass in 'show don't tell', and subtle details from each scene add levels of understanding without needing to be overt. Astute viewers will find a wealth of hints and hidden spirits strewn throughout the phenomenal design and direction, encoded in brilliant writing, framing, even through the opening credits; however, the myriad twists and turns are shocking and impactful on levels that would be cruelty to even hint. This is beyond genre, this is exceptional filmmaking. I am often reserved about hyperbolic praise, as it often sets an unreasonable expectation. No such reservation here: The Haunting of Hill House is terrifying, riveting, emotional, beautiful, profound, and without reservation the best work I have seen in 2018.