Netflix Reimagines ‘Little House on the Prairie’

Netflix is planning to bring back “Little House on the Prairie,” a move that seems to indicate Hollywood is still struggling to create original content, a situation that’s been stagnant for two decades. This trend raises a few eyebrows.

For me, no story holds more significance than this one. The series, inspired by Laura Ingalls Wilder’s semi-autobiographical books, resonates deeply. Coming from a background of single-parent homes and limited resources, I remember how one thoughtful person donated a boxed set of “Little House” books to a Christmas drive for families in need.

The Ingalls family vacates their Wisconsin cabin to give space to a Native American family displaced by settler encroachment.

When I unwrapped that gift, I was ecstatic; I read those books again and again. They were nearly falling apart by the time I finally discarded them years later. Thankfully, a wonderful friend gifted me a new set just last Christmas.

A “Home” Away from Home

The themes of independence, self-reliance, and the importance of love, mistakes, and forgiveness in a family and community were exactly what I craved. This narrative infused me with hope for something better than the challenging home I knew.

The original television adaptation became my all-time favorite show. I watched it fervently during its initial run and later caught reruns. If you revisit the original series now, one might first notice its overwhelming sentimentality. Yet, the reason it feels this way? It might have less to do with the show’s essence and more with how coarse society has become over the last four decades.

As we anticipate the Netflix revival, it’s amusing to think about what used to matter. In earlier times, audiences would ponder things like, “Is the casting decent?” or, “Is the storyline sustainable?” Not now though.

The “Middle” Feels Broken

These days, the primary concern seems to be whether the new adaptation will hammer home overly explicit political or social messages. We didn’t even think this way until around 2014. Now, it’s become the primary focus for most adults when confronted with yet another reboot.

Reimagining? Perhaps “desecration” fits better. These new interpretations often seem to mock the original creators, implying they were out of touch regarding modern values like inclusivity.

Take Hulu’s treatment of “Malcolm in the Middle.” The original was a quirky family comedy centered on Malcolm, a boy gifted with intelligence. The reboot, humorously titled “Malcolm in the Middle: Life’s Still Unfair,” revives many of the original characters but entwined with contemporary identities.

For instance, Malcolm’s childhood friend Stevie now has a husband, and Malcolm himself has a new sibling named Kelly, who identifies as non-binary. The definitions keep shifting, making it a bit hard to follow.

There’s an awkward moment where Kelly informs her parents about feelings she first had at five years old. A viewer would be wise to brace themselves before diving into this clip.

Related: ‘Malcolm in the Middle’ reboot has even caught Hollywood’s disdain.

Back to the Future Prairie

Personally, I dread watching the new “Little House on the Prairie.” Yet, it’s probably inevitable. I can foresee my frustration, although I have fond memories of the original books and series. Still, it feels rather irrational to be worried. The idea that Netflix might bring in an agenda-driven narrative does taint my fond recollections of something that once felt so pure.

Before the new season airs, let me just get it off my chest. I’m guessing I’d see something like this in the first season’s episodes.

Episode 1: “Decolonizing the Big Forest”

The Ingalls family departs their Wisconsin home, making room for a Native American family displaced by settler gentrification. As they drive away in a wagon, a returning chief sets to adorn their old cabin with dream catchers and other tokens.

They journey across the prairie seeking a more sustainable existence. The final scene? A sign reads: Welcome to Walknut Grove. A young Indigenous woman warns them, “Just don’t call me Squaw.”

Episode 2: “School is Over”

Mary and Laura head to their new school, where they learn a lesson far beyond the traditional subjects: empathy. Their one-room school is run by Mx. Beadle, a non-binary teacher who keeps binders for students who can’t afford proper clothing.

When Laura shows disdain for the binder, she faces a punishment of writing a refrain about gender validity on the blackboard fifty times.

Episode 3: “Farmer Boy”

Meet Nelson Olson, a privileged bully. Nelson, who once identified as female, realizes, with help from his mother, his true identity as a boy. It turns out Nelson’s brother is actually Wilhelmina—quite the twist everyone seems to accept without question.

Nelson taunts Laura as she heads to school, leading to an altercation that accidentally reveals his past identity. Laura is then tasked with sewing him a new binder while Wilhelmina crafts doll clothes on a modern machine.

Episode 4: “No one is free until everyone is free.”

After a crop failure, Pa seeks work at the local sawmill, only to discover all the workers are white. The governor demands closure of the mill until it can address worker diversity.

The factory remains shut under the banner: “No justice, no wood.” Meanwhile, white men are pressed into service to craft wheelchair lifts for the town’s disabled residents, while three families freeze to death in their tents, to which the town responds with a gathering.

Episode 5: “Side work is work”

A traveling family aims to open a legitimate business, yet face discrimination in Walknut Grove. In recognition of the town’s oppressive foundation, the council repeals laws against their presence. A gallery opens, but complications arise when Mary falls ill after working there.

Upon recovering, Mary struggles with identity confusion, prompting her family to take up extra jobs to financially support her attendance at a school focused on gender diversity.

As the season concludes, Ma crafts homemade hair dye for Mary while a train approaches. It seems we’ll just have to wait for season two!