Her Fragile World Shatters Apart

Rating: 9/10 (5 November 2013)

The influence of "Carrie" can't be understated. Stephen King went from a minor bestseller to an international success. Brian DePalma, known before for absurdist satires, was changed into the predominant thriller filmmaker of his age. It launched the careers of Nancy Allen, Amy Irving, William Katt, John Travoltra and, most importantly, Sissy Spacek. The movie's critical praise was acknowledged with two Academy Award nominations, unheard for a horror film. Finally, the film introduced the final jump scare into the horror movie cliché library, something every major shock film of the next two decades would rip off.
"Carrie" is, ultimately, a simple story. Meek, poor and telekinetically gifted Carrie White suffers abuse at school from classmates and at home from her religious fanatic mother. Sue Snell, Tommy Ross, and Miss Collins attempt to help poor Carrie, to save her. Vindictive Chris Hargensen and her doofus boyfriend plan petty revenge against the girl for mostly imagined wrongs. The plot is engineered to build towards the climatic prom sequence, each storyline coming together. The whole story takes place over no more then a few days. The structure is precise, elegant, and functional.
The story is also a coming of age story. The film begins and ends with blood in bath water, representing different losses of innocence. The emergence of Carrie's powers is tied directly with her first menstrual cycle. Her character arc is ultimately framed as a struggle against her mother's authority. Her psychic abilities give her the strength to fight back, to strike out on her own. Dowdy and plain at first, Carrie goes through a "Beautiful All Along" transformation, charming Tommy at prom, suggesting that, had this not been a Stephen King story, she could have gotten away from her mother, had a normal life. King's original book was a epistolary novel, showing the events from the outside looking in. The film refocuses on Carrie, showing her world, her side of the story.
For a fact, whenever the movie shifts away from Carrie, it suffers. De Palm's past as a cult filmmaker occasionally pokes through. A long sequence of the girls in gym is odd, with upbeat music and comical angles, adding little to the story. How about the scene of Tommy and friends trying on tuxes, which features bizarre fast motion? Carrie's Mother isn't the most complex character. She's little more then a raving, religious lunatic. Only near the end, when explaining Carrie's conception, does the character seem to be more. Piper Laurie plays the part as operatic theater, driving her intensity to absurdist heights, most evident during her orgasmic death scene, writhing in religious agony. Chris is similarly cartoonish, a sadistic, evil queen bee. It's no fault of Nancy Allen, who plays the part to its fullest, simply an example of thin writing. William Katt, several years away from his light comedy hero roles, is nearly flat as Tommy. Katt tries, occasionally showing some depth under those golden locks, but frequently comes off as a brainless jock.
Spacek owns the film and, when the focus is on her, "Carrie" shines. Her big blue eyes and freckled face conveys such a strong vulnerability, a deep sadness. You feel for the character, want to protect her. As the prom night goes on, as you see her smile and come into her own, a deep melancholy comes over the film that almost brings me to tears every time. Because you know her happiness is going to be short-lived. Despite occasional misinterpretations, "Carrie" isn't a revenge story. Carrie's psychic wrath at the prom isn't righteous nor is the audience meant to enjoy it. Instead, it's high tragedy. You're watching her fragile world shatter apart and the terrible fall-out from it. "Carrie" is ultimately an incredibly sad film. You forget that between showings, only remembering De Palm's stylistic flourishes or the intense effect scenes.
De Palma's highly stylish direction occasionally verges on melodramatic. The multiple quick-cut close-ups on Carrie's glaring face or Margret chopping a carrot drawls too much attention. The infamous De Palma split-screen nicely shows Carrie's powers but are an exercise in style, not story. The dinner scene between Carrie and her mother, though beautifully shot in deep shadows, puts too fine a point on it when lightening strikes after Margret's dialogue. Ultimately, De Palma's direction works for the film. His repeated use of double focus, different items in the foreground and the background, provide depth to the frame, supporting the themes. The turn-table shot of Carrie and Tommy at the prom probably goes on too long but beautifully illustrates both her heavenly feeling while subtly suggesting that things are about to go out of control. No sequence is better constructed then the lead-up to the prom massacre. Another one of De Palma's trademarks, a long, single shot, revolving around the room, setting each puzzle piece in place brilliantly.
Pino Donaggio's score is also hugely important to the film's success. The score is beautiful, dreamy and romantic when it needs to be. Carrie and her mother each have a leitmotif, a mournful oboe for Carrie and pounding, psychotic piano for Mom. During the prom, Donaggio's score fluctuates from silent to foreboding, slowly building tension. While the actual massacre is happening, the score is almost non-existent, treating the violence starkly, honestly. Unlike De Palma's direction, the score is always honest, building and supporting the story's emotions Except for the shrieking, Hermann-esque "Psycho" strings that play whenever Carrie employs her powers. This was no doubt De Palma's idea, the Hitchcock humper.
Though infamous, I almost feel like that final jump scare is unnecessary. It's an exploitation movie move in a film that is anything but. However, that final image, of Sue's mother cradling her on the bed, the room womb-like, a warm parental relationship, the kind Carrie never had, recalls the story's whole point. "Carrie" is a devastatingly sad, powerful horror picture, showing that the genre can explore and plunge emotions far deeper then fear or revulsion