There are few literary characters as enduring as Anne Shirley, and bringing her to television again was always going to invite comparison. Moira Walley-Beckett’s adaptation for CBC and Netflix doesn’t shy away from that challenge. Instead, it leans into the emotional core of L.M. Montgomery’s novels while expanding the world around Anne to explore themes the original books only hinted at. The result is a show that found a devoted global audience and sparked one of the more passionate cancellation campaigns in recent streaming memory.
What makes this version of Anne stand apart from earlier adaptations is its willingness to sit with difficulty. This isn’t just a cozy period drama about a plucky orphan. The show takes Anne’s traumatic past seriously, giving her backstory real weight and consequence. That choice divided some longtime fans of the source material, but it also gave the series an emotional depth that resonated with viewers who might never have picked up the books.
Amybeth McNulty and the Heart of Green Gables
The show lives and dies on its Anne, and Amybeth McNulty delivers one of the most captivating child performances in recent television. Her Anne is electric, funny, desperate, theatrical, and deeply wounded all at once. McNulty captures the character’s motor-mouthed imagination without ever making it feel like a performance trick. When Anne spirals into fantasy or delivers one of her signature monologues about the beauty of the world, it feels earned because McNulty also shows the fear and loneliness driving all that energy.
The supporting cast matches her note for note. Geraldine James and R.H. Thomson bring quiet dignity and slow-building warmth to Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert. The relationship between the three of them forms the emotional backbone of the series, and the show is at its absolute best when it focuses on these domestic scenes. Matthew’s gentle acceptance of Anne and Marilla’s gradual thawing are handled with patience and subtlety that give the familiar beats real power.
The production values deserve mention too. Prince Edward Island has never looked better on screen. The cinematography treats the landscape as a character in its own right, and the period detail feels lived-in rather than museum-piece polished. The show earned its technical praise, creating a visual world that matches the richness of Anne’s imagination.
Walley-Beckett’s writing team also handles Anne’s friendships with care. Diana Barry, Gilbert Blythe, and the broader Avonlea community all get moments to breathe. The show is patient with relationships, letting them develop across episodes rather than rushing to payoffs. Gilbert in particular benefits from this approach, becoming a more fully realized character than many previous adaptations allowed.
Where the Expanded Storylines Stumble
The show’s biggest strength is also its most consistent criticism. By expanding beyond Montgomery’s text to address racism, queer identity, Indigenous displacement, and class politics, the series sometimes bites off more than its runtime can chew. These aren’t bad stories to tell, and the show handles them with genuine care, but the pacing suffers when too many threads compete for attention in a ten-episode season.
Season two in particular drew mixed reactions for introducing storylines that felt disconnected from the core Avonlea narrative. Some viewers felt the show was using Anne’s world as a vehicle for issues that, while important, didn’t always integrate smoothly. The boarding house subplot and certain guest characters pulled focus from the relationships fans had invested in, creating a sense that the show was stretching itself thin.
The tonal shifts can be jarring too. The series moves between sunlit pastoral warmth and surprisingly dark material, sometimes within the same episode. Anne’s flashbacks to her time in orphanages and abusive foster homes are hard to watch, and while they serve a narrative purpose, the contrast with the gentler Avonlea scenes can feel like two different shows fighting for control.
The cancellation after three seasons means several of these expanded storylines never got their resolution. The show ends on a note that’s satisfying enough for Anne herself, but characters who were mid-arc just stop. That unfinished quality hangs over the final season and makes the show’s ambition feel like a double-edged sword. The broader scope made the show richer, but it also meant more loose ends when the axe fell.
The Adaptation That Dared to Grow Up
The fundamental question around Anne with an E is whether an adaptation of a children’s book should push into darker, more modern territory. The show’s answer is an emphatic yes, and for most of its run, that gamble pays off. By treating Anne’s trauma as real and letting it shape her relationships, the series adds stakes that a more faithful adaptation might lack. Anne’s joy hits harder because you understand what she’s survived. Her fear of abandonment isn’t a quirk but a wound.
This approach also means the show connects with adult viewers in a way that straight adaptations of children’s literature sometimes don’t. It’s a coming-of-age story that takes the “coming” part seriously, showing the messy, painful process of a damaged kid learning to trust. That emotional honesty is the show’s greatest achievement and the reason its cancellation hit so hard.
Should You Watch Anne with an E?
If you love period dramas with emotional weight and don’t need strict fidelity to source material, Anne with an E is an easy recommendation. Fans of character-driven storytelling and strong young performances will find a lot to love here. The show rewards patience, building its emotional payoffs across episodes and seasons rather than delivering quick hits.
If you’re a purist about the Anne of Green Gables books, your mileage will vary. The show departs significantly from Montgomery’s tone in places, and some of those departures work better than others. And if unresolved storylines frustrate you, know going in that the cancellation means some threads just hang. The core Anne, Marilla, and Matthew story reaches a satisfying place, but the show’s expanded world doesn’t get the same closure.
The Verdict on Anne with an E
Anne with an E proves that a beloved classic can be reimagined without losing its soul. Amybeth McNulty’s performance alone is worth the investment, but the show offers more than that: a thoughtful, emotionally rich series that takes its young protagonist seriously. The expanded storylines don’t always land with equal force, and the cancellation stings, but three seasons of this quality is better than six of something safe. It’s the rare adaptation that makes you want to revisit the source material and appreciate the differences.