Director: Brian De Palma
Writers: Stephen King, Lawrence D. Cohen
Photography: Mario Tosi, Isidore Mankofsky
Music: Pino Donaggio
Editor: Paul Hirsch
Cast: Sissy Spacek, Piper Laurie, William Katt, Amy Irving, Nancy Allen, John Travolta, Betty Buckley, P.J. Soles
Carrie the novel was Stephen King’s first published book and Carrie the movie was his first film adaptation. Unlike The Shining, he was quite happy with it even though director Brian De Palma and screenwriter Lawrence D. Cohen changed the ending. King’s fingerprints are more evident here than in Kubrick’s Shining, which might be part of his reaction, as he was getting such a big boost at that point in his career. In many ways Carrie launched King into the mainstream. The movie was a big hit, earning back its original investment nearly 20 times and snaring a couple of Oscar nominations, one for Sissy Spacek as Best Actress in the title role and another for Piper Laurie as Best Supporting Actress playing Carrie’s mother. To this day Carrie is regularly ranked high on lists of greatest horror movies made.
It still has a lot of its punch. Laurie as a demented Christian evangelical trying to protect her daughter Carrie from the sins of the world is extraordinarily unpleasant. She misquotes the Bible to make her insane points. She calls breasts “dirty pillows.” She locks Carrie up in a closet to pray. She didn’t bother to explain the menstrual cycle or periods to Carrie. “You’re a woman now,” she only says coldly, after the alarms and humiliations Carrie suffers from her first period. It was interesting to find out that Laurie reportedly never took the picture seriously during the shoot. She thought it had to be a black comedy and made a personal project of chewing the scenery. It shows, but that isn’t to say her performance doesn’t work. She’s one of the best parts of the picture but she could barely hold back her laughter at her own antics. Another disquieting element is the amount of hitting and slapping, which I take more as artifact of 20th-century quasi-slapstick style than anything. But it frankly shocks me (as does the same in Saturday Night Fever, another picture with John Travolta). It might be more evidence of how uneasy Carrie was making me as I watched. But people are hauling off and slapping one another around here a lot—teachers and students and parents and kids as well as kids on kids.
Carrie the novel was Stephen King’s first published book and Carrie the movie was his first film adaptation. Unlike The Shining, he was quite happy with it even though director Brian De Palma and screenwriter Lawrence D. Cohen changed the ending. King’s fingerprints are more evident here than in Kubrick’s Shining, which might be part of his reaction, as he was getting such a big boost at that point in his career. In many ways Carrie launched King into the mainstream. The movie was a big hit, earning back its original investment nearly 20 times and snaring a couple of Oscar nominations, one for Sissy Spacek as Best Actress in the title role and another for Piper Laurie as Best Supporting Actress playing Carrie’s mother. To this day Carrie is regularly ranked high on lists of greatest horror movies made.
It still has a lot of its punch. Laurie as a demented Christian evangelical trying to protect her daughter Carrie from the sins of the world is extraordinarily unpleasant. She misquotes the Bible to make her insane points. She calls breasts “dirty pillows.” She locks Carrie up in a closet to pray. She didn’t bother to explain the menstrual cycle or periods to Carrie. “You’re a woman now,” she only says coldly, after the alarms and humiliations Carrie suffers from her first period. It was interesting to find out that Laurie reportedly never took the picture seriously during the shoot. She thought it had to be a black comedy and made a personal project of chewing the scenery. It shows, but that isn’t to say her performance doesn’t work. She’s one of the best parts of the picture but she could barely hold back her laughter at her own antics. Another disquieting element is the amount of hitting and slapping, which I take more as artifact of 20th-century quasi-slapstick style than anything. But it frankly shocks me (as does the same in Saturday Night Fever, another picture with John Travolta). It might be more evidence of how uneasy Carrie was making me as I watched. But people are hauling off and slapping one another around here a lot—teachers and students and parents and kids as well as kids on kids.
De Palma, naturally enough as we have learned about him by now, sets the slo-mo opening scenes that run under the titles in a girls’ locker room. It’s so cheesy you can understand why anyone might think this was actually a comedy. The camera rolls slowly and lovingly past the high-spirited girls dressing and undressing. Composer Pino Donaggio’s syrupy swooning strings deliver a strangely confusing element of pathos. De Palma does love a steamy shower shot—is he into double-digits now of his films that include them? And he tarts up Carrie further with a bevy of attractive young women with little to do but look good. A few get to do a little more: Nancy Allen (his favorite), Amy Irving, and P.J. Soles, who got more play in the picture because De Palma liked the way she clobbered Spacek with her ballcap in the opening volleyball scenes.
The only way this unlikely story is going to work—repressed introverted adolescent girl from an ultrareligious household develops telekinetic powers—has to start with a convincing performance, which is what we get from Sissy Spacek as Carrie. She reportedly approached the role basically Method style, wearing her character’s same clothes day after day, even off set, even the bloody ones, until a full sequence had been shot, interacting with the other players only in character, etc. She is absolutely stellar here, as she was in Badlands and 3 Women, to name just two more from the ’70s in a long and sparkling career, when you come to look at the list on IMDb.
She is great, but the second half of the picture, with the lead-up and lengthy scenes of the prom, is a clinic in how it’s done. Somehow I always seem to forget this part, or I have been impatient and it seems drawn out. But I thought it was perfect the last time I looked. The humiliation is set up artfully, slowly, deliberately. Every good thing that happens to Carrie on her date with Tommy Ross (William Katt, who looks like a youthful Robert Redford in a feathered shag haircut) only foreshadows how bad it’s going to be. We feel her joy, but it makes us wary and uncomfortable. Every kindness from Tommy or her classmates, all so unexpected at this point, only makes us sense more acutely how much it’s going to hurt. In other words, there is a lot of treacle sauce applied liberally. It’s sudsy and so beautiful to think it might be true. But we know well it isn’t.
Then the whole bucket stunt takes too long to pull off, but OK. It’s another De Palma bid for Master of Suspense. Finally it falls and the disaster is underway. At first, De Palma drops out all sound altogether. It is just Carrie and her humiliation, her sudden realization that it had all been a cruel dream after all. And De Palma holds on that, lets us absorb it, gives us time to wonder what she will do. We’re ready. We’re fully on her side. And then the picture explodes satisfyingly. So much is happening that De Palma resorts to split screens to get parts of it across. There is a terrific car stunt to finish off Carrie’s chief tormenters, Chris Hargenson (Nancy Allen) and Billy Nolan (John Travolta).
De Palma ends Carrie in the way he has ended many other movies—with a shock sequence that turns out to be a dream. It has practically become a signature for him in many ways, his own “Th - th - that’s all, folks!” This may be the first of them and it’s certainly one of the best. Start to finish, Carrie remains a great one.
The only way this unlikely story is going to work—repressed introverted adolescent girl from an ultrareligious household develops telekinetic powers—has to start with a convincing performance, which is what we get from Sissy Spacek as Carrie. She reportedly approached the role basically Method style, wearing her character’s same clothes day after day, even off set, even the bloody ones, until a full sequence had been shot, interacting with the other players only in character, etc. She is absolutely stellar here, as she was in Badlands and 3 Women, to name just two more from the ’70s in a long and sparkling career, when you come to look at the list on IMDb.
She is great, but the second half of the picture, with the lead-up and lengthy scenes of the prom, is a clinic in how it’s done. Somehow I always seem to forget this part, or I have been impatient and it seems drawn out. But I thought it was perfect the last time I looked. The humiliation is set up artfully, slowly, deliberately. Every good thing that happens to Carrie on her date with Tommy Ross (William Katt, who looks like a youthful Robert Redford in a feathered shag haircut) only foreshadows how bad it’s going to be. We feel her joy, but it makes us wary and uncomfortable. Every kindness from Tommy or her classmates, all so unexpected at this point, only makes us sense more acutely how much it’s going to hurt. In other words, there is a lot of treacle sauce applied liberally. It’s sudsy and so beautiful to think it might be true. But we know well it isn’t.
Then the whole bucket stunt takes too long to pull off, but OK. It’s another De Palma bid for Master of Suspense. Finally it falls and the disaster is underway. At first, De Palma drops out all sound altogether. It is just Carrie and her humiliation, her sudden realization that it had all been a cruel dream after all. And De Palma holds on that, lets us absorb it, gives us time to wonder what she will do. We’re ready. We’re fully on her side. And then the picture explodes satisfyingly. So much is happening that De Palma resorts to split screens to get parts of it across. There is a terrific car stunt to finish off Carrie’s chief tormenters, Chris Hargenson (Nancy Allen) and Billy Nolan (John Travolta).
De Palma ends Carrie in the way he has ended many other movies—with a shock sequence that turns out to be a dream. It has practically become a signature for him in many ways, his own “Th - th - that’s all, folks!” This may be the first of them and it’s certainly one of the best. Start to finish, Carrie remains a great one.
The ultimate high school revenge fantasy film? Are there a lot of actor performances in horror films that have been nominated for Oscars? Foster in Silence of the Lambs? I guess I'm just assuming the Oscars have neglected horror, even worse than comedy. Anyway, will never forget the exploding bloodlust in that last big scene, the one before the hand lunged out of the grave. At which, yeah, I jumped and probably let out a yelp, no instant replay review required.
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