“Sin never dies.”
Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:
Response to Peary’s Review:
Spacek’s performance is undeniably the critical element that grounds the film, elevating it from a finely crafted horror outing to a true (albeit warped) coming-of-age classic. Spacek is so iconically “Carrie” that it’s nearly impossible to imagine anyone else in the role (though we’ll soon get to see how Chloe Grace Moretz does in director Kimberly Peirce’s 2013 re-visioning of the story). But equally key are the fine supporting performances across the board — from Allen’s slimily prissy uber-bitch, to Irving’s conscience-stricken peer, to Buckley’s fiercely protective and maternal gym teacher, to Laurie’s genuinely terrifying religious fanatic. Speaking of Laurie, I think a case could be made that a film set entirely inside Carrie’s house would be an effective horror flick in its own right; the image of Laurie standing silently behind a semi-closed door as Carrie returns home after the bloody prom night is one of the most bone-chilling in cinematic history — not least because of what it implies about the film’s real basis for [domestic] horror. (Special kudos belong to set designer Jack Fisk, Spacek’s real-life husband, for turning their house into a candle-lit den of horrors.)
De Palma’s film is perhaps most unusual for the range of tones he employs, as he shifts repeatedly between teen comedy (viz. the wacky appearance of P.J. Soles and Edie McClurg as two of Carrie’s classmates, or the scene in which three boys try on tuxes for the prom); satire (i.e., Allen and Travolta’s over-the-top nastiness and villainy, especially during Allen’s passive-aggressive seduction of Travolta in the car); romantic fantasy (as during the idyllic first part of Carrie’s prom experience, when she and Katt begin to fall for one another); Gothic perversion (all scenes between Carrie and her insane mother); and “pure” horror (i.e., the entire last portion of the movie — which Peary argues is “overly violent”, but I disagree; De Palma employs enough restraint from violence throughout most of the story that the final bloody outcome feels “deserved”). Also noteworthy is how artfully De Palma (with help from DP Mario Tosi) directs and crafts each scene, strategically utilizing deep-focus placements, split-screen cinematography, low lighting, suspenseful editing, and unusual use of sound (or lack thereof) to heighten mood. The film is never uninteresting to look at; even as we occasionally wish for deeper character development (Irving and Katt’s characters are especially under-explored), we can’t help staying glued to the screen.
Note: Catching snippets from Carrie on television as an impressionable child was single-handedly responsible for my dread of horror films for many years — until I was old enough to approach them from an appropriately aesthetic film-fanatic perspective; nowadays, I appreciate this fact as further evidence of De Palma’s genius with the genre.
Redeeming Qualities and Moments:
(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)