Ah, the 70s…a time where 25-year-olds played high school students while 27-year-olds played their respective gym teachers. That certainly seems to be the case in Brian de Palma’s captivating adaptation of Stephen King’s novel, Carrie. Although it lacks in consistent scares throughout, the film’s purpose is to not terrify you but to provide you with a spellbinding and thrilling portrait of an innocent yet powerful teenage girl. What’s interesting about this movie is that we’ve all encountered a Carrie in our academic lives—the quiet boy or girl who avoids interaction and is subject to rolling eyes or nasty glares from his or her peers—and, as a result, de Palma teaches us a valuable, anti-bullying lesson to not fuck with people who are so distant from our superficial interpretations of normality.

Describing Carrie as ‘powerful’ in the previous paragraph is a bit of an understatement. To put it blatantly, she has telekinetic abilities. Throughout the film, we see her move objects, break mirrors, and repair items—all with her mind. Gradually, her powers become a force to be reckoned with as she throws her mother onto the couch without even touching her. But nothing—and I mean nothing—compares to the havoc that she catalyzes on prom night after being dumped in pig’s blood while accepting her prom queen title.

Brian de Palma truly showcases his talent while presenting the prom scene. Carrie, decked out in a white gown and beautiful golden hair, shows up at the gymnasium with Tommy Ross, the most popular guy in school. At this point, Carrie is not even thinking of the horrific incident that occurred a few weeks ago when she had tampons being thrown at her in the girls’ locker room. We know this because de Palma showcases this moment in a very inviting atmosphere with glossy and bright colors. It’s almost like Carrie is in a dream because everything is so perfect—no one’s teasing her, she’s not worrying about her religion-crazed mother, and she’s actually at prom with THE Tommy Ross. But of course, all good things come to an end and de Palma foreshadows that when Carrie and Tommy slow dance on the gym floor. He starts off by slowly circling the camera around the dancing couple, again evoking this feeling that Carrie is in a dream and never wants to be awakened. However, the camera starts to speed up around the couple…faster and faster. This accelerating motion hints at the dissolving reality. As the camera is losing control, we—the audience—feel that things in the gymnasium are about to lose control as well. This all culminates when Chris—Carrie’s prominent tormentor—pulls the string, toppling over the bucket filled with pig’s blood. And that’s when everything slows down. Nothing but the sound of the empty bucket clanking against the wall. And then, laughter fills the air. Everyone’s laughing. The students. The teachers. Everyone. We sense this ultimate betrayal alongside Carrie. As she scans the room, she notices her gym teacher—the aforementioned 27-year-old Miss Collins. Miss Collins was the one that gave Carrie the courage to go to prom. She was the one who protected her after the girls’ locker room incident. She was Carrie’s confidant. And there she was—laughing in a backstabbing manner. From then on, what transpires is probably the most gruesome and disturbing prom scenes in cinematic history as Carrie literally obliterates everyone in the room using her powers.

Along with de Palma’s direction, what truly makes Carrie a horror classic is the performances. Sissy Spacek, who plays Carrie, is someone we root for in the first half of the film as a result of all the physical and mental abuse she’s endured. However, after her dream prom turns into a nightmare, she widens her eyes and exudes this piercing stare as she destroys everything in her sight. It’s the type of face that has truly terrified me ever since I first saw this picture. Piper Laurie plays the fanatically religious Mrs. Margaret White, Carrie’s mother. With her practically insane religious mind, Laurie gives us a reason to be scared of Mrs. White. After all, she blames Carrie’s period on her “sinful thoughts.” But together, Carrie and Margaret form a tight-knit and isolated mother-daughter relationship. In a way, they are dependent on each other and the ending presents that.

Carrie is an effective horror tale. It gives us a realistic narrative and allows the characters to unfold as they themselves draw out the horror. Not only is it effective on the horror scale, but it serves as a great albeit grotesque warning for bullies: do not harass people that are different from your snobby selves.

CONSENSUS: 3.5 out of 4 buckets of pig’s blood