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Carrie invites you to her 40th class reunion
Saturday, October 17, 2026
This landmark supernatural horror film stars Sissy Spacek as Carrie White, a timid outcast high school girl raised by a fanatically religious mother (Piper Laurie) who discovers her daughter has powerful telekinetic abilities. After enduring relentless bullying from her peers— including Nancy Allen and John Travolta—Carrie is invited to the senior prom by a sympathetic student (William Katt). But her enemies are plotting a cruel prank Carrie is clueless about, and all hell’s about to break loose.
The film earned rare Oscar nominations (for both Spacek and Laurie) for a horror picture and remains a defining influence on modern fright films by seamlessly blending psychological trauma, coming-of-age anxiety, and visceral cinematic terror.
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Carrie, conducted last week, click here.
Carrie is one of the first feature films to tackle the topic of menstruation and the challenges of female adolescence and growing into womanhood, and it presents nude female bodies mostly in an honest, natural, and non-titillating way. Despite being directed by a man, this is a picture with a strong feminist message. For proof, consider that there are no strong male characters portrayed – Travolta is a clownish oaf, Carrie’s prom date shifts from a jock jerk to an empathetic love interest to a hapless victim who's quickly dispatched by a falling bucket, and Carrie’s father is out of the picture entirely.
The movie’s tone is predominantly bleak, depressing, and disturbing. The filmmakers emotionally manipulate viewers into a false sense of security and comfort only to pull the rug out from under us and depict a world of unrelenting cruelty, injustice, and misery for Carrie White, a pitifully shy teenager undeserving of the torment she endures.
De Palma utilizes creative shots, camera movement and editing – including the use of a deep focus/split-diopter lens so that objects in the foreground, middle ground and background are in complete focus; split screens that show action and reaction shots simultaneously; mobile camera work, including a memorable unbroken take involving a lens that spins chaotically faster around Tommy and Carrie as they dance, creating the swept-off-your-feet illusion of dreamy fantasy; ridiculously sped-up sound and visuals during the tuxedo shopping scene; extended slow-motion sequences that ratchet up the tension, especially when we observe Sue and Miss Collins realize something is terribly wrong at the prom; and kaleidoscopic lens shots depicting what Carrie (mistakenly) perceives as the entire gymnasium laughing at her humiliation in a cacophony of jeers.
The twist shock ending – in which Sue dreams she visits the site of the White’s demolished house and, attempting to place flowers on the ground, is suddenly grabbed by the disembodied, undead hand of Carrie that breaks through the rubble – was mortifying to moviegoers 40 years ago and became a hallmark sendoff for horror films to come, including later pictures like Friday the 13th and Dressed to Kill (both 1980), although this conceit of a ghostly resurrected hand suddenly surfacing was certainly borrowed from Deliverance (1972).
The prom crowning sequence is a master class in modern suspense. It’s rendered in excruciatingly protracted slow-motion, which increases tension, foreboding, and anticipation. The score here alternates between tender romanticism and shrill and suspenseful starkness. We have sympathy and admiration for Carrie – the ugly duckling now transformed Cinderella-style into a beautiful young woman who is finally recognized by her peers. But the knot tightens when we see the two women who care most about the prom queen notice something wrong, which increases our nervousness. A series of quickening cuts ensue, combined with selective sound effects. Finally, after the pig's blood pours down, we see teenagers and teachers alike silently laughing and then screaming, which creates an unnerving disorientation, as if we – like Carrie – have been shell-shocked and deafened by a blindsiding bomb.
Carrie is, of course, about the devastating consequences of bullying, as well as revenge and wish fulfillment: It’s a story that continues to speak to teenagers and outcasts everywhere who yearn to deliver comeuppance to the cruel and uncompassionate. We are reminded of the dangers of religious fanaticism, overzealous parenting, single-parented homes, and willful ignorance of biology (Carrie’s mother never tells her the truth about birds, bees, boys, or tampons).
Those are the low-hanging fruits. But De Palma’s work also deftly explores the mysterious and feared power of female sexuality and the myth that women and their bodies – like Eve in the garden of Eden – can unleash a destructive power upon the earth. King commented that his book is concerned with “what men fear about women and women’s sexuality.”
Beyond the Bible, it’s easy to spot references to classic mythology and ancient beliefs. Dmetri Kakmi, writer for Senses of Cinema, wrote: “The film’s overarching concern… shows a mythic view of woman as Force of Nature, a Furie whose destructive capacity is unleashed by primitive rites of passage brought on by the flow of menstrual blood…In Greek and Roman mythology, the Furies were goddesses who avenged crimes, and particularly offenses against the family.” Consider, too, that several shots of Carrie soaked in blood were borrowed from visuals and staging de Palma used in his stage play and subsequent film Dionysus in '69 (1970), which is an adaptation of The Bacchae, an ancient Greek tragedy written by Euripides.
Tragic fate, doom, foreboding, and unavoidable destiny are a four-headed theme here, as they were to the Greeks. Ponder how the fanatical mother serves as an oracle who predicts what’s going to happen with her ravings. She says, “First comes the blood, then comes the sin.” Sure enough, Carrie has her first menstrual period and later sows destruction upon the town with her telekinetic powers. Margaret also prognosticates that the prom evening will end in everyone laughing at her, which it certainly does.
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Carrie, conducted last week, click here.
Carrie is one of the first feature films to tackle the topic of menstruation and the challenges of female adolescence and growing into womanhood, and it presents nude female bodies mostly in an honest, natural, and non-titillating way. Despite being directed by a man, this is a picture with a strong feminist message. For proof, consider that there are no strong male characters portrayed – Travolta is a clownish oaf, Carrie’s prom date shifts from a jock jerk to an empathetic love interest to a hapless victim who's quickly dispatched by a falling bucket, and Carrie’s father is out of the picture entirely.
The movie’s tone is predominantly bleak, depressing, and disturbing. The filmmakers emotionally manipulate viewers into a false sense of security and comfort only to pull the rug out from under us and depict a world of unrelenting cruelty, injustice, and misery for Carrie White, a pitifully shy teenager undeserving of the torment she endures.
De Palma utilizes creative shots, camera movement and editing – including the use of a deep focus/split-diopter lens so that objects in the foreground, middle ground and background are in complete focus; split screens that show action and reaction shots simultaneously; mobile camera work, including a memorable unbroken take involving a lens that spins chaotically faster around Tommy and Carrie as they dance, creating the swept-off-your-feet illusion of dreamy fantasy; ridiculously sped-up sound and visuals during the tuxedo shopping scene; extended slow-motion sequences that ratchet up the tension, especially when we observe Sue and Miss Collins realize something is terribly wrong at the prom; and kaleidoscopic lens shots depicting what Carrie (mistakenly) perceives as the entire gymnasium laughing at her humiliation in a cacophony of jeers.
The twist shock ending – in which Sue dreams she visits the site of the White’s demolished house and, attempting to place flowers on the ground, is suddenly grabbed by the disembodied, undead hand of Carrie that breaks through the rubble – was mortifying to moviegoers 40 years ago and became a hallmark sendoff for horror films to come, including later pictures like Friday the 13th and Dressed to Kill (both 1980), although this conceit of a ghostly resurrected hand suddenly surfacing was certainly borrowed from Deliverance (1972).
The prom crowning sequence is a master class in modern suspense. It’s rendered in excruciatingly protracted slow-motion, which increases tension, foreboding, and anticipation. The score here alternates between tender romanticism and shrill and suspenseful starkness. We have sympathy and admiration for Carrie – the ugly duckling now transformed Cinderella-style into a beautiful young woman who is finally recognized by her peers. But the knot tightens when we see the two women who care most about the prom queen notice something wrong, which increases our nervousness. A series of quickening cuts ensue, combined with selective sound effects. Finally, after the pig's blood pours down, we see teenagers and teachers alike silently laughing and then screaming, which creates an unnerving disorientation, as if we – like Carrie – have been shell-shocked and deafened by a blindsiding bomb.
Carrie is, of course, about the devastating consequences of bullying, as well as revenge and wish fulfillment: It’s a story that continues to speak to teenagers and outcasts everywhere who yearn to deliver comeuppance to the cruel and uncompassionate. We are reminded of the dangers of religious fanaticism, overzealous parenting, single-parented homes, and willful ignorance of biology (Carrie’s mother never tells her the truth about birds, bees, boys, or tampons).
Those are the low-hanging fruits. But De Palma’s work also deftly explores the mysterious and feared power of female sexuality and the myth that women and their bodies – like Eve in the garden of Eden – can unleash a destructive power upon the earth. King commented that his book is concerned with “what men fear about women and women’s sexuality.”
Beyond the Bible, it’s easy to spot references to classic mythology and ancient beliefs. Dmetri Kakmi, writer for Senses of Cinema, wrote: “The film’s overarching concern… shows a mythic view of woman as Force of Nature, a Furie whose destructive capacity is unleashed by primitive rites of passage brought on by the flow of menstrual blood…In Greek and Roman mythology, the Furies were goddesses who avenged crimes, and particularly offenses against the family.” Consider, too, that several shots of Carrie soaked in blood were borrowed from visuals and staging de Palma used in his stage play and subsequent film Dionysus in '69 (1970), which is an adaptation of The Bacchae, an ancient Greek tragedy written by Euripides.
Tragic fate, doom, foreboding, and unavoidable destiny are a four-headed theme here, as they were to the Greeks. Ponder how the fanatical mother serves as an oracle who predicts what’s going to happen with her ravings. She says, “First comes the blood, then comes the sin.” Sure enough, Carrie has her first menstrual period and later sows destruction upon the town with her telekinetic powers. Margaret also prognosticates that the prom evening will end in everyone laughing at her, which it certainly does.
Similar works
- Poe’s short story The Fall of the House of Usher (1839)
- Psycho (1960), the score for which is emulated significantly in Carrie (1976); there are also tiny winks and nods to the Hitchcock classic, including the name of Carrie’s school: Bates High School
- Deliverance (1972) and its haunting ending featuring a phantom hand
- Other horror films from the 1970s depicting evil children, including The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), and The Changeling (1980)
- Ruby (1977) and Jennifer (1978) – two movies involving daughters who exact a terrible revenge on their tormentors.
- Dressed to Kill (1980), another De Palma picture that includes a shock ending
- Raise the Red Lantern (1991), another film featuring a claustrophobic and oppressive world for females who battle one another
Other films directed by Brian De Palma:
- Sisters (1972)
- Obsession (1976)
- Dressed to Kill (1980)
- Blow Out (1981)
- Scarface (1983)
- Body Double (1984)
- The Untouchables (1987)
- Carlito’s Way (1993)
- Mission: Impossible (1996)
