Who's the pretty prom queen now?
Of late, there have been a number of airings of the 1976 movie, “Carrie.” I was either too young to see the movie when it originally came out or don’t remember very much of it other than that iconic prom scene. Although I systematically shun all entertainment centered on the high school experience, when “Carrie” appeared in my cable listings, I decided to watch.
And, boy, am I glad I did! This film is awesome and timeless! Its title was even recently used as a verb in the “Reunion” episode of “30 Rock” to refer to the prank a group of high school reunion attendees planned to pull on Tina Fey’s character, Liz Lemon.
Since the “Carrie” source material was a Stephen King novel, I have to assume it was meant to be a horror flick. But it’s really too funny to be taken for anything outside of the “Scream-esque” sub-genre of horror-as-comedy.
First of all, the film starts with what can only be described as a paean to adolescent male sexuality. There are girls in gym shorts jiggling around playing volleyball. Then there is the post-gym class scene filled with naked and half-naked young girl flicking towels at each other in the steam-filled locker-room. Of course, all of this is filmed in soft focus, as scenes like this always are in an adolescent boy’s fantasies. And, of course, none of the scantily-clad and towel-flicking girls are overweight. It’s as if the entire film has a “No Fat Chicks” banner across its cinematic chest.
There is a gym detention scene that could pass for adolescent soft porn. Again, young girls in impossibly short shorts jumping up and down doing calisthenics. Then there is the extended dolly shot of Betty Buckley from the waist down as she walks through the ranks of her detainees wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes of her own. When, in the history of public education, did gym teachers dress this way other than in the sweaty daydreams of teenage boys?
Was Brian DePalma fourteen when he directed this?
Sissy Spacek’s Carrie is a likable enough character — for a teenager. Has telekinetic powers, which she only uses against people and objects who really deserve it. This is quite remarkable considering the religious-off-her-trolly mother she’s saddled with. It’s a wonder Carrie didn’t turn out the way Sybil did.
Although she is the definition of the shy, unassuming wallflower, Carrie inspires such contempt in her peers that even while performing a sex act on her boyfriend, one classmate can’t help but look up from the car seat and utter, “I really hate Carrie White.” Considering the context, these words could easily be taken to mean exactly the opposite.
I knew Sissy Spacek starred in “Carrie; this movie put her on the map. What surprised me was the supporting cast, which consisted of actors whom I had no idea appeared in this movie. Aside from the aforementioned Betty Buckley of “Eight is Enough” fame, there is John Travolta pre-Vinnie Barbarino, but with the same sweathog I.Q. and dumb jock swagger. There’s also –“believe it or not” — William Katt before he’d achieved geeky superhero status on “The Greatest American Hero,” one of the best shows to grace the TV machine in the 80s. Katt (and his hair) shine as the hot, sensitive poet roped into standing next to Carrie on that fateful prom stage.
In the world of teenage angst on film, this one ranks right up there with all of the John Hughes movies, “Ferris Beuller’s Day Off” and “Stand By Me,” with a ghoulish touch of “Firestarter” and “Rosemary’s Baby.”
The treatment of Carrie by her classmates is probably the best argument I’ve seen for having telekinetic powers. In addition to Carrie’s uses, I would have also used them for less violent and vengeful acts like, for example, passing myself a third piece of sweet potato pie at Thanksgiving dinner when no one was looking, or knocking the 40-ounce bottle of beer out of drunk relative’s hand.
The apocalyptic, fire-and-brimstone ending was a bit over the top, as was the cross-less faux-crucifixion of the psychotic Mrs. White. But she surely deserved it.
The most frightening moments in the movie have more to do with what is heard rather what is seen. During certain moments, there is a musical sting in the score that sounds like it’s straight out of the shower scene in “Psycho.” This sting is heard when Carrie detaches her mother from the kitchen doorframe, among other places. This music is so inextricably associated with “Pschyo” that I had to look behind me to make sure there was no knife-weilding cross-dresser anywhere in my the vacinity.
And there is nothing that can prepare you for the final “reveal” of Carrie’s ultimate powers, that is, unless you’ve seen it featured in numerous horror clip shows and award montages. It’s the scene that gave birth to the horror genre’s “dead-but-maybe-not” conceit, which is still used today to allow for the possibility of a sequel.
Yes, I’m referring to the scene featuring the plot on which Carrie’s house used to stand. It’s now covered by a shallow layer of charcoal. Sue Snell (played by Amy Irving) approaches to lay flowers at the site if Carrie’s unfortunate demise — that’s when it happens. The hand reaching up from the undug grave. Sue’s, chilling, unbridled scream.
I wish I could have been in the theaters back in ’76 to see the horrified audience members jump clean out of their seats as one scared sh*tless unit.
Good times.
Mental Pizza 