Pugh

East of Eden on Netflix’s creator Zoe Kazan follows in her grandfather’s footsteps who directed the 1955 film adaptation.

East of Eden is being hailed as a faithful and “captivating” watch with fans especially impressed by its leading lady.

John Steinbeck’s 1950s classic novel East of Eden has been resurrected once again but this time for Netflix fans, following the story of fierce Cathy Ames (played by Florence Pugh).

Set in the early 1900s, anti-heroine Cathy stops at nothing to get rich and in the process, drives a rift between two brothers that “ignites a saga that unfolds across two generations”.

The seven-part period drama was released in full today, Thursday, October 1, with fans quickly flocking to social media to share their thoughts. And it didn’t take long for users to make a major prediction about Florence Pugh’s future.

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With so many viewers impressed by the 30-year-old’s performance, fans believe she is in the running for an Emmy Award.

“Florence Pugh will definitely get an Emmy for East of Eden, she has out done herself by miles”, someone praised on X. A second agreed: “Just finished watching east of eden and the Emmy campaign for Florence Pugh starts right now.”

“Florence Pugh getting rave reviews for East Of Eden, oh we are sweeping the awards season all the way to that Emmy!”, a third exclaimed.

As another viewer remarked: “People were claiming that Florence Pugh is ruining her career with a Netflix show but the critics are raving about her and she’s most definitely getting an Emmy for this performance.”

Ahead of its release, Pugh opened up to Tudum about the challenges of creating an “epic adventure” for just seven episodes.

“As a performer, it was a really big step up into how I was going to approach this role and shooting this schedule because I had no time in between.

“I’m not only talking about heavy subject matter in the scenes, but the language is from a different era, which has a different rhythm.

“It meant that I had to approach this role in a way that I’d never done before.”

East of Eden is available to watch on Netflix.

Hollywood is filled with book-to-screen adaptations that have ignited grumbling and spirited debates. Even before its release, Zoe Kazan’s interpretation of John Steinbeck’s sprawling 1952 masterwork, “East of Eden,” roused passionate opinions from loyalists of the text on social media.

Much of the discourse surrounds Kazan’s creative choice in how to portray the book’s infamous antagonist, Cathy Ames, in Netflix’s seven-episode limited series out Thursday.

Steinbeck’s multigenerational saga ruminates on family, the power of choice and the nature of good and evil — deeply exploring the biblical stories of Cain and Abel and the fall of Adam and Eve — through the intertwined destinies of two families, the Trasks and the Hamiltons. Cathy (later known as Kate) functions as a chilling, destructive force in the saga.

Kazan pared down much of the Hamilton family’s story for the show and centered Cathy (Florence Pugh), whose arrival alters the lives of the Trask brothers, Adam (Christopher Abbott) and Charles (Mike Faist). In doing so, Kazan dared to humanize the character who has been considered one of literature’s most definitive symbols of pure evil, described by Steinbeck to be a “psychic monster” born without a conscience or kindness.

“I’m trying to protect my mental health by not being too much online,” Kazan said in a video call from London on a recent weekday. “I do think it is not surprising to me that this character brings up a lot of strong feelings for people … I’m excited to see what people think once they actually see what we have made and aren’t just anticipating something.”

Mike Faist as Charles Trask, Christopher Abbott as Adam Trask and Florence Pugh as Cathy Ames in Netflix’s “East of Eden.”

(Netflix)

When Kazan, an actor who has expanded her creative footprint behind the camera, first pitched the series in 2019 and was asked about which actor she envisioned as Cathy, she replied: “I have one.” She had seen Pugh in “Midsommar,” “Lady Macbeth” and “Little Women,” marveling at how the actor’s ultra femininity lived alongside her masculine energy.

“The range on that girl … I was like, if anybody can do that, they can play Cathy,” Kazan says. “It allowed me to write Cathy as complicated and mysterious [as I wanted] and with so much shadow and light.”

When it came to Adam and Charles, Kazan knew Abbott and Faist could depict the psychological nuance beyond the binaries of the nature versus nurture debate: “I wanted an Adam where you felt what his true nature was and the nature that his father had pushed him into … and I knew we needed that in Charles as well.”

Adapting a classic is hardly a simple endeavor, particularly one that has been done before. That Kazan would choose “East of Eden,” which unpacks legacy and generational shadows is apt: Her grandfather, Elia Kazan, famously directed the 1955 film version starring James Dean. The actors of the Netflix series are eager for viewers to see her vision come to life.

“When you do an adaptation of a book, especially a seminal American novel, no matter what, you’re always going to be up against it because … whenever somebody reads a book, the budget in their heads is unlimited,” Abbott says. “I think this is such a great adaption in its own right.”

Pugh adds: “I’m excited for people to do the stuff that I’m doing now, which is [to say], ‘Oh my God, let’s read this and see how it fits against what I’ve got in my head.’”

Over a video call together, Pugh, Abbott and Faist reflected on their journey to adapting Steinbeck’s epic story, including their first experiences with it and filling in the shades of these characters who remain timeless allegories of the human condition. This conversation, which contains spoilers, has been edited for clarity and length.

Florence Pugh, left, Christopher Abbott and Mike Faist take on some of literature’s most indelible characters — Cathy Ames, Adam Trask and Charles Trask — made famous in John Steinbeck’s classic “East of Eden.” (Photographs by Sophia Spring / For The Times)

When did you first encounter the book?

Faist: My first encounter with the story was the James Dean, Elia Kazan film. That was a movie that I watched, especially when I first moved to New York and wanted to be an actor. It wasn’t until Zoe and Florence asked if I’d be interested in doing this, that I picked up the book.

Pugh: I want to say maybe my early 20s, I read the book. I only watched the movie recently to prepare myself for these kind of conversations. I’m rereading the book now while we’re heading into press, just so I can like fine-tune what I thought I knew … there’s so much love that’s being breathed into every single sentence of every chapter [in this adaptation], and that is solely down to Zoe’s fantastic brain and her ability to want to dig deeper.

Abbott: A lot of my favorite books I’ve picked up and put down numerous times before actually plowing through it — that was the case here until Zoe approached me about doing it. I was like, “Well, this is a perfect excuse to finally [finish].”

This adaptation lit up social media early on for centering Cathy. She is such a polarizing figure. Some see her solely as an evil monster. Some argue there is more nuance to what’s driving her actions. Florence, how do you see her?

Pugh: It’s tricky because I know I’m gonna get asked this again and again, and I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to word it without totally pissing people off. I love finding characters that people automatically think are villains and trying to find a way for you to love them — it’s my favorite thing to do.

I read these episodes, and I was listening to Zoe and how she was wanting this to come from Cathy’s perspective, how Cathy was her hero and how she’s just been championing Cathy ever since she first read the book — that was so f— exciting to know that we’re not gonna just point the finger and say that she’s evil. It is my job to do my skills as good as possible so that I can argue in defense of them. I believe that I can argue for her, which is terrifying but also really cool. I care for her deeply. I understand where she went and why. Does she do some terrible things? Absolutely. Is she a product of the situation that she grew up in? Totally. You can’t get raped as a child and and you be totally fine for the rest of your life.

Florence Pugh as Cathy Ames. She hopes the adaptation prompts curiosity: “I’m excited for people to do the stuff that I’m doing now, which is [to say], ‘Oh my God, let’s read this and see how it fits against what I’ve got in my head.’”

(Netflix)

That detail was not explicitly stated in the book. What were your conversations with Zoe about it?

Pugh: That’s why we ended up choosing the way that we explained it and the way that we showed it — that little girl is so tiny you can’t even imagine anything bad happening to her, and the fact that she’s holding “Alice in Wonderland,” [in her mind], there’s so many through lines through Cathy and Kate’s life that all come back to that moment. You don’t need to do much. Everybody has the sinking feeling of what might happen to a vulnerable child in that situation. In the book, I think it’s constantly playing with the themes of can we trust her? Is she already a monster as a child?

What Zoe has done is made her a real human, and has given her cause and has given her time to understand. That moment that is alluded [to in the book ] — if Cathy asked the boys to tie her down, and whatever it is that they were doing to her — it’s no longer alluded [in the series]. That [assault] happened, but maybe people didn’t believe her.

Mike, what were you interested in excavating with Charles, this Cain archetype who’s tormented by rejection and jealousy?

Faist: What is amazing about this story is — and it’s the entire through line of the entire novel — is this idea of timshel. What happens in a person’s life, and the burdens that they carry, then the choices they make, and every single moment as they continue to live it. Charles jumped out at me. There was just something about him that I was very drawn to — and along with that pull, there’s this feeling of dread, where you say, “Oh God, I can’t believe that I’m about to jump in and do this thing.” You end up surrendering yourself to it. It is scary and deeply exciting.

Abbott: I don’t have a brother. You forget too that they’re half brothers and what that dynamic is like, what kind of Freudian s— pops up. I think the through line for Mike and I, because there’s a lot of conflict there, that it always comes from a place from love. The letters, as they [Charles and Adam] get older, that are written or the letters that he starts to write and doesn’t send, when there is hate between them, it’s because they love each other so much. Otherwise, it would just be indifference. A lot of that happens in the things that are unsaid.

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1. Mike Faist as Charles Trask. (Netflix) 2. Christopher Abbott as Adam Trask. He found the sibling relationship intriguing: “I don’t have a brother. You forget too that they’re half brothers and what that dynamic is like, what kind of Freudian s— pops up.” (Kirsty Griffin / Netflix)

When Zoe approached you, Chris, to play Adam, you questioned whether she actually meant for you to be Charles?

Abbott: I’m just used to being typecast, so I thought she made a mistake. Zoe’s mentioned this idea of masculine and feminine energy — what one presents and what one actually holds, and the old switcheroos of that. The very first email, I was like, “Oh, are you sure?” But I was excited to play with all the nuance of and the layers of what this is. I had seen the movie before, and it [covers] only the last 100 or so pages. It’s really gratifying to play a part where you get to see someone’s whole life and how this guy goes from being this wanderer, drifter to this to stoic, depressed, rigid older man.

What moment between these characters were you most eager or nervous to depict?

Faist: The scene that I reflect back on the most, that actively had the biggest impact on me, is the scene between Cathy and Charles, where she comes into his room and the two of them share this intimacy together. We had talked about what we were wanting to do, then on the day, none of it was really working. I remember Florence had this really specific thing she wanted to bring to the scene. And it was really powerful — there’s these very rare moments when you genuinely feel someone’s objective actively working against your own. [Pugh makes a quizzical face.] No, it’s good! It creates this friction and this tension that does exist and does live.

Abbott: That was your favorite, huh?

Faist: I’m sorry, Chris! That one was just such a visceral feeling of, I know what my character wants in this thing, and her character is very much wanting the exact opposite and the literal clash of that that moment and the feeling of that — I’ll never forget that.

Pugh: It’s such an important scene to get right because it literally is the ending moment of those two; it added so much pressure on the day of shooting. It’s actually really hard when you’re trying to do a sex scene that’s consensual, but it’s definitely not at the right time. The coolest thing about it is it wasn’t working and we had to push everyone out. Everyone was whispering and everyone was trying to figure out what they were comfortable with us doing and, eventually, Mike and I were just like: Right. Done.

Florence Pugh, with Christopher Abbott, left, and Mike Faist, says “East of Eden” endures because “every single one of these characters is struggling to survive realistically.”

(Sophia Spring / For The Times)

Chris, you have the daunting task of, in the closing moments of the series, delivering the word that’s the thrust of the whole story —timshel.

Abbott: I think that was the last scene I shot. I can’t say I was being lazy, but the character had a stroke so he was laying there. You just gotta listen [in a moment like that]. Hoon [Lee, who plays Lee] is reading from the Bible. You take in the room. I nailed it in one. [Pugh and Faist laugh.]

People have deep feelings about “East of Eden.” And it seems to have had a real resurgence recently, even outside of curiosity about this adaptation. Why do you think that is?

Abbott: That’s a big, existential [thing to think about]. There’s a ton of themes in the book that are relevant: displacement, family, love. The themes in the book aren’t specific to the time period. All great works are that.

Pugh: It’s also about generational trauma and change in healing. One of the things I recognized immediately when I started rereading the book months ago, the first few pages about the Salinas Valley describe very quickly that this place is about growth, change and moving on. What I’ve taken from our adaption of Cathy and her generational trauma and what she’s doing to her kids is that not everybody is going to get it right. The reason I think why people keep picking it back up is every single one of these characters is struggling to survive realistically, and they are all making decisions that affect and domino-effect other people around them. Us learning about how we could have done better will always be relevant. And especially with America, and what we’re watching in terms of its constant battle against racism and immigration. It’s relevant to life and to our lives.

John Steinbeck’s 1952 novel “East of Eden,” an Oprah’s Book Club Selection in 2003, is a retelling, or actually two retellings, of the Cain and Abel story, first in Connecticut with half-brothers Charles and Adam Trask, and then in the author’s native Salinas Valley with Adam’s fraternal twin sons, Cal and Aron, in each case competing with one another for their father’s love. Not wanting you to miss his meaning, if you haven’t already guessed by the title, Steinbeck has a character read the entire passage from Genesis.

The stories, which together run from the late 19th century through World War I, are connected by a woman named Cathy Ames, whom Adam marries and who gives birth to Cal and Aron — which I suppose makes her the Eve in this household, though that’s not a theological road Steinbeck chose to really explore.

In 1955, Elia Kazan directed a film version, a color-mad Cinemascope melodrama that told only the Cal and Aron part of the story; significantly, it was the film debut of James Dean and so will live forever. Writing in The Times in 2005, Kenneth Turan called it “not only one of Kazan’s richest films and Dean’s first significant role” but “arguably the actor’s best performance.”

Kazan’s granddaughter Zoe Kazan has written the screenplay and worked with Jeb Stuart as co-showrunners for a new “East of Eden” adaptation, a seven-episode miniseries debuting Thursday on Netflix. Though it omits a sizable chunk of what is after all a very long book, it takes its chronology whole, putting Cathy front and center in the publicity and in the show, owing largely to Florence Pugh‘s performance as its most dynamic character.

Kazan begins her telling with a badly beaten woman dragging herself through the night as a female voice delivers an edited, elaborated version of the author’s thoughts on difference. (It is a book brimming with thoughts.) “I believe there are monsters born in this world to human parents … A child may be born perfect of body but without kindness or the potential of conscience. Still, you must not forget, everyone is normal to himself. And to a monster, the norm must seem monstrous.” Given that the novel’s narrator is Steinbeck, it’s hard to say just who the “I” is here, but I assume the gender swap has something to do with wanting to literally give this version a female voice.

The monster is Cathy, crawling to the porch of the farmhouse occupied by Charles (Mike Faist), who thinks they should call the sheriff, and Adam (Christopher Abbott), who is compelled to care for her. Close your eyes if you don’t want to know anything more about this 73-year-old bestseller, but Cathy has already possibly driven a man to suicide and definitely burned down her house with her parents locked inside. She was beaten up by her former pimp, whose mistress she’d become and from whom she was stealing. You may be thinking “sociopath.”

The series backs up 25 years to a Connecticut farm where father Cyrus Trask (Tracy Letts), a peg-legged Civil War veteran, rejects Charles’ gift of a new knife in favor of Adam’s present of a stray puppy, creating a long trail of jealousy. He’ll later pack pacifistic Adam off to the army (because, he says, he loves him better), with Charles unhappily constrained to stay and work the farm (though he proves good at it). After years in service and living in hobo jungles, Adam returns home.

Standout performers include Hoon Lee as Lee, left, and Ciarán Hinds as Samuel Hamilton.

(Kirsty Griffin / Netflix)

Cathy crawls to their doorstep; Charles sees through her, which will earn him her respect, but Adam falls for her, marries her and drags her west to California, where she doesn’t want to go and doesn’t plan to stay. (She’s quite upfront about this, but Adam is a poor listener.) She gives birth to Cal (younger, Bodhi Aisher; older, Joseph Zada), who will grow up to wonder if he’s bad, and Aron (younger, Jonah Wren Phillips; older, Joe Anders), whom everyone thinks is good, and returns to the life of a prostitute, which suits her fine. And that is probably enough plot for me to relate.

Pugh impressively represents Cathy’s outward self through successive stages; she’s not a character born to develop, though she will have various crises to navigate, and the actor imbues her with as much nuance as the part allows. She’s the main reason to watch, though there are standout performances from Hoon Lee as Lee, a philosophical, intellectual, American-born Chinese man who works for Adam and becomes a kind of surrogate mother to Cal and Aron; and from Ciarán Hinds as Samuel Hamilton, a jovial Irishman, virtually the only remnant of the novel’s Hamiltons, who stand in for Steinbeck’s own family. Faist does a lot with the taciturn, perceptive Charles. Martha Plimpton, never not great, plays Faye, a madam for whom Cathy works; and Zoe Phillips makes an impression in her scattered scenes as Abra Bacon, who’ll date Aron but feels connected to Cal.

Kazan and Stuart do cover all the main plot points and themes — good and evil, love and jealousy, inherited character and (the big one) the possibility of change. Unavoidably the text has been chopped and channeled, with some swapping of parts, bits of narration screwed into dialogue and events described in a paragraph blown out into scenes. Certain thoughts inside Cathy’s head have been made concrete.

The adapters don’t add too much material of their own, Steinbeck having provided a wealth of character descriptions, backstory, philosophical rumination and social criticism for every occasion, but here and there they’ll stress a point or provide something new in order to make sense of Cathy. But they don’t overdo it. (Steinbeck, declaring her unknowable, cuts her a lot of slack, walking back his earlier “monster” comments: “Who knows but that she tried to tell someone or everyone what she was like and could not, for lack of a common language. It is easy to say she was bad, but there is little meaning unless we know why.”) Oddly, the Cain and Abel elements in the Cal and Aron story, which launched Dean’s career, don’t really register.

If nothing else, the miniseries reminds us that adaptation is a difficult job that grows harder the more complex and celebrated the original text, and the more necessary it is to honor it. (This is why pulp fiction has produced so many memorable movies.) Things will always be lost in translation, not least from the pictures in your head to the pictures on the screen. If you’re going to film a literary monument, and a period piece to boot, you’re going to have to spend some money.

But the production here betrays its economy, and the direction, by Garth Davis and Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre, remains earthbound, held down by mournful strings and devoid of color. The New Zealand landscape does echo the rolling hills of Central California, in a dry season, but it’s a dreary vision, hardly the paradise of Steinbeck’s memory, book or metaphor.