The Stand: 1994 Miniseries vs. 2020 Series vs. the Book
2026-09-14
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Spoilers follow for the novel and both TV adaptations, including their endings.
Stephen King's The Stand has been adapted for the screen twice, twenty-six years apart, and the two versions barely resemble each other in approach. The 1994 ABC miniseries plays it straight and linear, close to the book. The 2020 CBS All Access series scrambles the timeline, recasts everyone, and — most notably — ends on material Stephen King wrote specifically for the show, not for either version of the novel. Here's how all three tell the same story differently.
The book, briefly
Published in 1978 and expanded into a Complete and Uncut Edition in 1990, The Stand follows the aftermath of a government-engineered superflu ("Captain Trips") that wipes out most of humanity. Survivors are drawn, through dreams, to one of two leaders: Mother Abagail, an elderly prophet calling the faithful to Boulder, Colorado, or Randall Flagg, a demonic figure gathering the ruthless in Las Vegas. The book plays out as parallel, linear character threads — Stu Redman, Frannie Goldsmith, Larry Underwood, Nick Andros, Harold Lauder, Nadine Cross — that converge first in Nebraska, then in Boulder, before splitting again for the climax in Vegas. Both screen adaptations keep this basic shape; where they diverge is structure, casting, and — most of all — the ending.
The 1994 miniseries: faithful, linear, and dated
Written by King himself and directed by Mick Garris, the four-part Stephen King's The Stand aired on ABC starting May 8, 1994, running roughly six hours across its four parts. It's the more book-faithful of the two adaptations, telling the story in the same straightforward, chronological order King used: superflu outbreak, dream-driven migration, Boulder Free Zone, and finally Vegas.
The cast is a genuine highlight: Gary Sinise as Stu Redman, Molly Ringwald as Frannie Goldsmith, Jamey Sheridan as Randall Flagg, Rob Lowe as the mute Nick Andros, Adam Storke as Larry Underwood, Corin Nemec as Harold Lauder, Laura San Giacomo as Nadine Cross, Miguel Ferrer as Lloyd Henreid, Matt Frewer as Trashcan Man, Bill Fagerbakke as Tom Cullen, and Ruby Dee as Mother Abagail. Several of these performances — Sinise's grounded Stu, Ferrer's genuinely unsettling Lloyd — are still cited as the best screen versions of these characters.
Where the 1994 version struggles is the finale. The book's climax hinges on a literal deus ex machina: Trashcan Man drags a nuclear warhead into Las Vegas, and a divine intervention — "the hand of God" — detonates it, wiping out Flagg's stronghold. On the page this reads as apocalyptic and strange. On 1994 television, rendered with early-90s effects, it becomes a visibly glowing cartoon hand reaching down from the clouds — a moment that's been mocked for three decades as the miniseries' worst scene, alongside a widely-panned closing shot of a disembodied Mother Abagail cooing over Frannie's newborn. The miniseries also ends there, without dramatizing the Complete and Uncut Edition's later-added epilogue in which Flagg wakes up alive on a tropical beach and begins gathering a new following under the name Russell Faraday — a scene that ties the character into King's Dark Tower mythology.
The 2020 series: restructured, recast, and rewritten
The nine-episode The Stand premiered on CBS All Access in December 2020, created and written by Josh Boone and Benjamin Cavell (Cavell served as showrunner). The new cast includes James Marsden as Stu Redman, Odessa Young as Frannie Goldsmith, Alexander Skarsgård as Randall Flagg, Whoopi Goldberg as Mother Abagail, Amber Heard as Nadine Cross, Owen Teague as Harold Lauder, Jovan Adepo as Larry Underwood, Henry Zaga as Nick Andros, Nat Wolff as Lloyd Henreid, Brad William Henke as Tom Cullen, and Greg Kinnear as Glen Bateman.
The biggest formal change is structural: rather than telling the story in the book's chronological order, showrunner Benjamin Cavell chose to jump between timelines, introducing viewers to the already-established Boulder Free Zone before flashing back to show how everyone got there. Cavell has said the goal was to tell the story more as "Lord of the Rings in America" than as a pandemic narrative — but the choice was one of the more divisive parts of the series, with critics and viewers unfamiliar with the book finding it disorienting, since it introduces characters well before giving audiences a reason to care about them.
The bigger change, though, is the ending — and it's the reason this adaptation is worth watching even if you've read the book. The 2020 finale, "The Circle Closes," keeps the nuclear detonation in Vegas largely as written (Flagg is struck by lightning and vanishes moments before the blast, leaving his fate ambiguous, same as the book), and it does dramatize the beach epilogue: Flagg wakes up alive on a shoreline and starts over with a new group of followers, introducing himself as Russell Faraday — planting the same Dark Tower connection the 1994 version skipped. But King, credited as a writer on the finale alongside his son Owen King, added an entirely new coda that exists in neither edition of the novel.
The ending Stephen King rewrote
In the book, Frannie Goldsmith gives birth to a son, Peter, who briefly appears to be sick with the superflu before recovering — a moment meant to signal cautious hope that humanity's survivors might be immune. King has said for decades that he regretted not giving Frannie more of a resolution of her own. The 2020 finale's new coda does something the book never did: it shows Frannie imagining an alternate life in which she never met Stu, never went through the plague, and simply lived out an ordinary, peaceful existence — a brief, dreamlike detour before the story snaps back to the ending she actually got. King has compared the device to the fantasy sequence in Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ. In this new version, Frannie's child is also changed from Peter to a daughter, named Abigail after Mother Abagail — King's explicit way of giving Frannie a "stand" of her own that the novel never quite delivered.
Critical reaction to this new ending was split. Some critics and longtime King readers welcomed it as a genuinely moving fix to the book's most-debated flaw — the abruptness of its climax and its treatment of Frannie as more of an observer than an active participant in the story's resolution. Others felt it undercut the bleaker, more ambiguous tone the rest of the story had built, or that the show's uneven middle stretch (particularly its restructured timeline) didn't earn the emotional weight the new ending was reaching for.
Which one should you watch?
If you want the more faithful adaptation and don't mind some dated effects, the 1994 miniseries is the one that plays closest to King's original structure and gets the most acclaim for individual performances — Sinise and Ferrer especially. If you've already read the book and want to see how King himself, decades later, chose to revise its most contested moment, the 2020 series is the one to watch, structural issues and all — its ending is the only version of The Stand's story that isn't also in the novel. Either way, reading the Complete and Uncut Edition first will make both adaptations easier to follow, since neither one slows down to explain the world-building the way the book does.