Spoilers for the ending of Carrie - also do excuse my brevity in this week’s issue, I’ve had a combination of work-related exhaustion and and IT issues going on and also honestly, I really also want to delve into this one a bit deeper in a future issue so I am pacing myself.
If I’m being completely honest with you, dear reader, it feels incredibly reductive to strip Carrie down to “one good scare”. I had the honour of seeing the film for the first time, on a big screen, in a crisp and gorgeous 4K restoration on Friday (shout out to The Evolution of Horror for hosting the screening) and I’ve not quite managed to shake off the impact it’s had on me.
Based on the 1974 novel by Stephen King (the first present my now-husband bought me was a copy of the novel) , Brian DePalma’s adaptation of Carrie cuts like a knife. It’s a remarkable slow-burn, a taut string of psychological dread (and an all time great and UTTERLY TERRIFYING performance from Piper Laurie and her MASSIVE hair, OH MY GOD) creeping through every moment building towards that devastating final act (for clarity’s sake, I consider the final act to be everything that happens once Tommy and Carrie start walking to the stage after being announced as prom king and queen), with a coda that will stay living with you for some time after.
And it’s that coda I would like to dissect with you today.
the set-up
It is some time after the events of the night of the prom. Sue Snell (Amy Irving), the sole survivor is sleeping, uneasily. Her mother (Priscilla Pointer, Amy Irving’s IRL mother) is watching over her, and as quietly as possible, she walks to the ringing phone in the corridor, closing the door behind her so as to not wake Sue up.
On the phone, Mrs. Snell chats to a friend about how Sue is doing, about their plans to move away for a while, about what’s happened since the prom. As Mrs. Snell tells her friend that it’s reckoned Sue is young enough to be able to forget about what happened, we see Sue in a dream, walking up to the charred remains of Carrie White’s (Sissy Spacek) house to lay flowers. A “for sale” sign stands, vandalised with the words CARRIE WHITE BURNS IN HELL in stark black paint. Sue, eyes visibly teary, a look of regret and sadness on her face, goes to lay the flowers.
And then…
the scene
why it works
Okay, so there’s layers to this.
This scene comes in just after you hear Sue’s mother talk about how she’s still young and there’s every chance she won’t remember this happening. Sue’s reaction to Carrie’s bloodied hand reaching up from the rubble and grabbing her, her blood-curdling scream and her inability to fully wake up from it in one go (it cuts back to the dream for a brief second, maybe telling us that she’s not quite awake yet) suggests that this may not be the case at all, and that the events of the prom night, and what was done to Carrie can never be undone, will live with her forever.
The dreamlike nature of the shot (achieved by filming it backwards), along with the equally dreamlike score (WHAT does this score remind me of, it is driving me bonkers) lulls the viewer into such a false sense of security that even if you do know what’s about to happen (and yes, I did know what was about to happen because this moment has been spoiled for me several times over) you STILL get the full jump scare experience because you kind of successfully trick yourself into thinking “surely nothing is going to happen”.
The knowledge that the hand is actually Sissy Spacek’s hand (she insisted on doing the stunt herself rather than having a double perform it - DePalma had her husband, Jack Fisk, bury her under the rubble because he refused to do it himself) makes it extra effective and I don’t quite know how to explain my reasoning, but it feels like a dedication to the storytelling on her part.
The change from the dreamlike, twinkly score as Sue is walking up to the house’s remains, to the brusque, stabbing violence of the score the moment Carrie’s hand reaches out overlaid with Sue’s screams is so effective that you’re willing it to end, you’re willing for there to be a moment of calm to end on after the chaos of the last act of the movie but DePalma does not give you that calm. That’s how the movie ends, with Mrs. Snell holding her sobbing daughter in her arms.
Apparently Priscilla Pointer was so unnerved by her daughter’s performance that she accidentally shouted out her real name instead of Sue during this final section - you can’t hear it because of the loudness of the music but rest assured, you are not the only one scared in that moment.
*lol, “Steven” King
How nostalgic this makes me feel! I can still remember when I saw "Carrie" in theaters.
"Carrie" has the distinction of being one of the few movies based on a book in which the movie is actually better than the book. I always found the book, which is partly composed of news stories and official reports, to be somewhat disjointed. The movie, in contrast, is much more focused.
Also, the movie cleans up some inconsistencies in the book. For example, in the book, Sue sets Carrie up with Tommy (her boyfriend), and then seems to be rooting for them to get together, even though she genuinely cares about him (and had miraculously good sex with him shortly before). That always struck me as a WTF kind of situation. Sue's motive was never clear.
Anyway, people who saw the movie with me unanimously agreed on the importance of the final scene that your analysis makes so clear.
Sue’s mother tells whoever is on the phone that the Dr. said Sue is “young enough to forget the whole thing” which is obviously ridiculous since, as a senior in high school, Sue is, at very least, 17. That part has bugged me for years.
Let’s say the rope broke and the bucket didn’t fall. Ever wonder how that whole thing would’ve played out in school on Monday? Carrie, now kissed by Tommy with her prom queen crown at home in her hope chest? She goes to school feeling brand new, having learned how to curl her hair, and gloss her lips. Most importantly, she’d be totally enamored with Tommy who would still be with Sue. Hmm! 🤔
Edit: P.S. How weird is it that Priscilla Pointer just passed away five days ago? I had no idea.