There’s something quietly risky about Millie Bobby Brown choosing Prism as her first major TV project after Stranger Things wraps. Not risky in the “career suicide” sense—Netflix would greenlight her reading a phonebook at this point. Risky because it’s so close to what made her famous. Another girl with powers. Another supernatural mystery. Another ensemble cast presumably running from things that go bump.
Except this time, she’s not just the lead. She’s executive-producing. And the premise—a woman who can talk to ghosts during a worldwide phenomenon that’s causing spirits to manifest everywhere—sounds less like Eleven Redux and more like a horror-adjacent thriller that could actually land somewhere between The Leftovers and A Quiet Place. If they nail the tone.
That’s a massive “if.”
What We Know About Prism (And What Netflix Isn’t Saying Yet)
According to Deadline, Prism centers on Cassie, a woman gifted—or cursed, depending on your perspective—with the ability to communicate with the dead. When a mysterious global event triggers an explosion of ghostly “visitors” appearing across the planet, Cassie becomes humanity’s unlikely detective, racing to uncover what’s causing the phenomenon before civilization collapses into paranormal chaos.
The series is based on a short story by Nick Shafir, originally published in Assemble Artifacts magazine and developed in-house by Assemble Media. Shafir is co-producing. Etan Frankel, whose credits span everything from Shameless to The Boys, has been tapped as showrunner—a choice that suggests Netflix wants grit and dark humor woven into the supernatural fabric, not just jump scares and CGI fog.
Behind the camera, the Russo brothers’ AGBO banner is executive-producing alongside Brown’s PCMA production company. Rachel Brosnahan (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel) is also listed as an executive producer, though her role in the series—whether on-screen or strictly behind the scenes—remains maddeningly unclear. My guess? She’s playing someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts until Act Two forces her hand. Pure speculation. But also… come on.
The production roster is stacked: Anthony and Joe Russo, Angela Russo-Otstot, Scott Nemes, Alessandra Maman from AGBO; Russell Kahn via Scrap Paper Pictures; and Assemble Media’s Jack Heller and Caitlin de Lisser-Ellen rounding out the team. That’s a lot of cooks. Whether that means “visionary collaboration” or “too many notes” is the question we won’t answer until 2026 at the earliest.
Netflix hasn’t announced a premiere date. Smart. Stranger Things Season 5 drops in three parts between November 26 and December 31, 2025, and the studio knows better than to dilute Brown’s brand before her flagship show takes its final bow.
Why This Could Work (Or Spectacularly Flame Out)
Let’s be honest: supernatural procedurals are a minefield. For every The Sixth Sense, there are ten forgettable ghost-hunting shows that think moody lighting equals depth. Prism has the pieces to avoid that trap—a high-concept premise, a showrunner who understands tonal whiplash, and a lead actress who’s proven she can carry emotional weight even when the script doesn’t deserve it.
But here’s the thing. Brown has spent nearly a decade playing Eleven, a character defined by trauma, telekinesis, and a thousand-yard stare. Cassie, as described, sounds like Eleven with a Ouija board. If the show leans too hard into “tortured psychic reluctantly saves the world,” it risks feeling like a Netflix algorithm wrote it. What Prism needs—desperately—is a personality. A sense of humor about itself. A willingness to let Brown play someone who isn’t just burdened by her gift but maybe even enjoys the chaos a little.
The global-crisis angle is promising. It’s giving The Leftovers meets Midnight Mass—a world where the supernatural isn’t an isolated incident but a collective reckoning. If Frankel and his writers can avoid the “chosen one” clichés and instead explore what happens when everyone is suddenly forced to confront mortality and grief in real-time, this could transcend genre schlock and become something genuinely unsettling.
The Russo brothers’ involvement is a double-edged sword. AGBO has bankrolled some genuinely interesting projects (Everything Everywhere All at Once, Extraction), but their Marvel pedigree also means there’s a risk of over-engineering the mythology. Ghost stories work best when they’re messy, inexplicable, and emotionally raw—not when they’re building toward a cinematic universe.
And Brosnahan’s mysterious role? If she’s just a producer credit, fine. If she’s co-leading, even better. Brown works best when she has a sparring partner, someone to ground the chaos. Stranger Things proved that. Enola Holmes proved that. Cassie needs a foil, not just ghosts.
Brown’s Post-Hawkins Strategy: Playing It Safe or Taking Swings?
This is where it gets interesting. Brown’s upcoming slate includes Enola Holmes 3 (2026), a franchise that’s charming but narratively toothless, and Just Picture It, a romantic comedy she’s producing and starring in. On paper, those projects scream “diversification”—lighthearted, audience-friendly, designed to prove she’s not just the girl who screamed at Demogorgons.
Prism, by contrast, feels like a calculated risk. It’s not a reinvention—it’s a refinement. Brown is betting that audiences want to see her do what she does best (vulnerable intensity, supernatural stakes) but with grown-up storytelling and creative control. She’s not running from her Stranger Things legacy; she’s trying to evolve it.
The timing matters, too. By the time Prism premieres, Stranger Things will have been off the air for at least a year, maybe two. Nostalgia will have kicked in. Brown will be in her mid-twenties, far removed from the child-star label but still young enough to anchor a long-running series. If Prism works, it becomes her Game of Thrones—a defining role that’s hers alone, not part of an ensemble.
If it doesn’t work? She’s got Enola Holmes money and a rom-com backup plan. Worst-case scenario, she pivots to producing full-time and becomes the next Reese Witherspoon. Not a bad fallback.
The Ghost in the Machine: What Prism Says About Netflix’s Genre Strategy
Netflix has been quietly rebuilding its supernatural slate after years of canceling everything that wasn’t Stranger Things or The Witcher. The Midnight Club, 1899, Archive 81—all dead before they could find their footing. The message was clear: if you’re not an instant hit, you’re gone.
Prism feels different. It’s got the Russo brothers, a proven star, and a premise that’s marketable without being derivative. Netflix needs a new horror-adjacent franchise to replace Stranger Things, and Brown needs a creative sandbox where she’s not just the talent but the architect. It’s a symbiotic relationship that could either birth something genuinely original or collapse under the weight of expectation.
The ghost-story-as-metaphor angle is evergreen. Grief, trauma, unfinished business—these themes never go out of style. If Prism leans into that emotional core instead of just delivering scares, it could resonate beyond the genre crowd. Think The Haunting of Hill House, not Ghost Whisperer.
But Netflix’s track record with supernatural shows is… uneven. For every Midnight Mass, there’s a The Watcher that feels like it was written by ChatGPT. Prism will live or die on whether Frankel and his team can balance spectacle with substance, horror with humanity. No pressure.
What Makes Prism Worth Watching (Or Worth Skipping)
Millie Bobby Brown in Full Control
For the first time, Brown isn’t just the face of a project—she’s steering it. That level of creative investment could mean we get a character who feels lived-in, not focus-grouped.
A Showrunner Who Gets Dark Comedy
Etan Frankel’s work on The Boys and Shameless suggests he knows how to thread absurdity through horror. If Prism has a sense of humor about its own premise, it’ll stand out.
The Russo Brothers’ AGBO Touch
AGBO’s track record is hit-or-miss, but when they hit (Everything Everywhere All at Once), they hit. If they let Prism be weird and personal instead of franchise-bait, this could be special.
A Global Supernatural Crisis
The “ghosts everywhere” premise is inherently cinematic. If the show explores how different cultures and communities react to the phenomenon, it could transcend typical ghost-story tropes.
The Rachel Brosnahan Mystery
Is she co-starring? Just producing? The ambiguity is maddening, but if she’s got a meaty role, the dynamic between her and Brown could elevate the whole thing.
Netflix’s Desperate Need for a New Hit
Stranger Things is ending. The Witcher is limping. Netflix will throw its full marketing weight behind Prism, which means it’ll get a real shot—not a quiet drop-and-cancel.
FAQ
Is Prism just Stranger Things with ghosts?
On paper, maybe. But the premise—a global supernatural crisis, not just a small-town mystery—suggests something closer to The Leftovers than the Upside Down. If the writing is sharp, this could be Brown’s evolution, not her rehash.
Why is Rachel Brosnahan involved if her role isn’t clear?
Good question. She’s listed as executive producer, which could mean she’s acting, consulting, or just lending her name for clout. My bet? She’s got a supporting role they’re keeping under wraps. Netflix loves a surprise cast reveal.
Will Prism actually premiere before 2027?
Probably not. Stranger Things wraps in late 2025, and Netflix will want at least a year of breathing room before launching Brown’s next big thing. 2026 is optimistic. 2027 feels more realistic.
Does the Russo brothers’ involvement mean it’s going to be too Marvel-ized?
Risk exists, yeah. AGBO has done great indie work, but the Russos also love a multiverse. If Prism starts teasing ghost dimensions and cinematic crossovers, we’re cooked. Let’s hope Frankel keeps it grounded.
Is this Millie Bobby Brown’s best post-Stranger Things project?
It’s certainly the boldest. Enola Holmes is fun but safe. Just Picture It is a rom-com pivot. Prism is Brown saying, “I’m not done with supernatural stakes—I’m just getting started.” If it works, it’s legacy-defining. If it flops, at least she swung hard.
