Howl-oween Series – Part II: Carrie vs. Carrie

“‘You’ll never forget it,’ she said. ‘Never.'” – Stephen King

Teens are often misunderstood.  As a result, they can suffer horrendous emotional and physical torture by their peers.  Carrie tells the story of a tormented girl who strikes back at her peers with extreme prejudice.

Invited to the senior prom by the most popular boy in school, 17-year-old Carrie White reluctantly accepts under the assurance no one’s out to hurt her.  It was the best night of her life until a joke went too far.

Drenched in pig’s blood, she hears the discouraging words of her mother in her head as she senses the false laughter of everyone around her.  Tired of the anguish, and through her recently discovered telekinesis, her emotions come to life and transform a night of magic into one of horror and death.

First edition cover

39 years after Stephen King’s best-selling novel hit bookstores and 37 after the release of Brian De Palma’s film adaptation, Carrie continues to grip readers and viewers.  Fascination with the story brought a new adaptation to theaters Oct. 18, starring Chloë Grace Moretz in the title role and Julianne Moore as Carrie’s mother Margaret White.

Directed by Kimberly Peirce, the 2013 Carrie is the second remake of De Palma’s 1976 film, but only the second theatrical adaptation of King’s novel – first remake was a 2002 TV movie.  Critical reception has been mixed (48% on Rotten Tomatoes), with the film earning only approximately $26 million so far.  Despite the film’s performance and reception, I enjoyed it from beginning to end.

I’ll always prefer De Palma’s version though.  I just don’t see myself connecting with an actress on an emotional level the way I did with Sissy Spacek.  That being said, what attracted me to the 2013 film in the first place was Moretz and Moore.  I was intrigued to see these actresses take on such dark roles, given their past performances, and impressed with the outcome.

Despite Peirce’s film nearly being a shot-for-shot remake of De Palma’s, they still had their differences.  So as a viewer, here’s my take.

Theatrical release posters for 1976 (left) and 2013 (right)

(Caution: Spoilers ahead)

The obvious difference with the remake is the modernization of the story.  This element took the longest for me to digest, but not out of disgust.  The use of smart phones, YouTube, computers and other contemporary trends is impossible to picture in 1976, so you have to disassociate yourself with that version and realize you’re watching something new.

References to Alfred Hitchcock, like the use of Psycho‘s violin screech to represent Carrie’s telekinesis, are absent in Peirce’s film.

De Palma used a lighting style that gave his Carrie a dream-like visualization.  Peirce’s use of sharper colors and less light almost makes her darker scenes feel claustrophobic.

The scores also give the viewer an idea of what kind of film they’re watching.  Pino Donaggio’s score in the 1976 film is an example of “less is more.”  The film’s themes are primarily comprised of strings and flute.  Synthesizers are sometimes featured.  Donaggio’s style emphasizes the desired emotional responses of key scenes.

Marco Beltrami uses a larger orchestra with a variety of instruments for the 2013 film, giving it a heavier musical anchor.  The film features more terrifying music, a common trend with modern horror films.  The use of “scare chords” to cause the viewer to jump is one example.

Here’s a comparison of the two main title themes.

And another of the theme played during Carrie’s rage.

Carrie

Sissy Spacek (top) and Chloë Grace Moretz (bottom) as Carrie White

Considering my earlier statement, Spacek is my obvious choice.  Moretz was excellent, don’t get me wrong, but I saw a bit of myself in Spacek’s character.  I connected with her on a deeper level than Moretz.  I was also astounded at how a 26-year-old woman could play a 17-year-old girl so convincingly and with such innocence.

The biggest difference is how both Carries react.  The locker room/shower scene when Carrie panics over her first period is a perfect example.

Both girls go into shock at the sight of the blood, and not knowing what to do, reach out to their peers.  Carrie doesn’t understand what’s happening and believes she’s dying, but rather than help, the other girls ridicule Carrie while throwing tampons and sanitary napkins at her.

Spacek goes into a catatonic state as she’s tortured.  You just want to help her because she comes off so helpless.  The gym teacher eventually steps in and puts an end to the psychological terror, but the trauma remains.

The scene is similar in Moretz’s portrayal.  She falls to the floor, screaming and crying, desperately trying to psychologically retreat as she is mocked and filmed.

The level of emotional involvement isn’t any different for the viewer.  For me, Spacek simply had more tragedy in her eyes.

Both actresses pulled off the role, and each viewer will have their preference.  For some, Spacek scared them, so maybe it was difficult to sympathize.  That wasn’t the case with me, but I still sympathized with Moretz.  What happened to her character wasn’t any less awful.

“…aware that the joke was on her (as always), dumbly embarrassed but unsurprised.” – Stephen King

Margaret White

What can I say?  Both Piper Laurie and Moore know how to play a psychotic.  You want to run away from both of them.  Laurie just scared me.  Simple as that.

The grin she dons while going after her daughter with a knife will put eerie thoughts in anyone’s head when they lie down at night.  Moore, while convincing, didn’t display that creepiness.  The scene when Carrie returns from the prom, looking for her mother, and Moore hovers across the frame in the background bore that jump-startling feeling we’ve all met before.  Laurie, no matter how many times you watch, gives you shivers.

Either way, how anyone can stab their daughter in the back when all she wanted was to be comforted is something I just can’t comprehend.  Maybe that’s because I’m sane.

I’ll call it a draw between Laurie and Moore, for their performances were equally captivating.  Laurie still scares me though.

Piper Laurie (top left, bottom left) and Julianne Moore (top right, bottom right) as Margaret White

Chris Hargensen

Nancy Allen (top) and Portia Doubleday (bottom) as Chris Hargensen

Don’t let that cute smile on Nancy Allen’s face fool you.  The character of Chris Hargensen is renowned as a relentless bully; the kind you love to hate.  Both actresses filled this role well, but how are they different?

Portia Doubleday captures every essence of a rich, spoiled brat; suitable for a bully.  Allen on the other hand was a pure, cold-hearted, evil bitch who deserved way more than what she got in the end.

Early on in both films, Carrie frustrates her classmates during a volleyball game in gym (Spacek loses her team the game; Moretz fouls up a serve, nailing Chris in the back of the head).  Chris’ response is the same in both films, projecting the words, “You eat shit!” at Carrie.

Allen delivers the insult as if she passionately hates Carrie; whereas Doubleday uses the phrase as a mere rude remark, laughing while she says it.  It’s uncalled for no matter the delivery, but Allen sounds as if she wished Carrie were never born.  This level of emotion deepens the conflict between Carrie and Chris, making the film’s climax far more intense.

On that note, Doubleday’s death as Chris was bittersweet compared to Allen’s.  The viewer sees Doubleday eat the windshield of her boyfriend’s car before it explodes.  With Allen you only get the explosion, so those few seconds of Chris’ pain are absent.  If the characters were switched with situations, it’d be perfect.

Chris’ relationship with her boyfriend Billy Nolan was also different.

John Travolta (top) and Alex Russell (bottom) as Billy Nolan

Allen’s Chris was mean to her boyfriend along with Carrie, slapping and calling him “dumb shit” repeatedly.  Played by a young, smiling John Travolta, the Billy of 1976 is a more innocent character due to his abuse, and only does Chris’ bidding because she rewards him with sexual favors.

2013 gives us a different Billy Nolan, played by Alex Russell.  He’s rugged, smiles less and wears the pants in the relationship.  He even threatens to kill Chris if she speaks of their prom prank to anyone due to its associated criminal charges.

Doubleday’s Chris isn’t abused though, and she certainly isn’t the evil, manipulative girl Allen portrayed.  You don’t feel sorry for her, sure enough, but how much you hate Doubleday’s character is up to you.

My vote goes to Nancy Allen.  She was just as spoiled as Doubleday, but donned an evil persona Doubleday couldn’t begin to touch.

“You eat shit!”

Sue Snell

Amy Irving (top) and Gabriella Wilde (bottom) as Sue Snell.

A friend of Chris, Sue takes part in tormenting Carrie in the locker room, but relents when she realizes just how cruel her actions are.  In fact, she’s the only one to show remorse.  Sue gives her prom date to Carrie to make up for her cruel act.

The look on Amy Irving’s face in De Palma’s film when Miss Collins (the gym teacher) shakes sense into her couldn’t be more shocking.  Her tears tell it all.

The guilt Irving brings to Sue almost confuses the viewer.  You don’t know whether to feel for Carrie or Sue at times, but you begin to feel relieved that things are finally going to work out for Carrie because someone’s being nice to her.  Of course, we all know that’s not how it plays out.

Gabriella Wilde plays Sue in the new film, but only well enough to where the character is present.  For me, she just didn’t bring Irving’s level of emotion to the story.  I was happy she helped Carrie, but I didn’t feel bad for her like I did with Irving.

The scene where Sue asks her boyfriend, Tommy Ross, to take Carrie to the prom in Peirce’s film came off as bland and rushed to me.  Her request came off as a casual favor rather than a romantic gesture.  De Palma’s approach and execution made the scene meaningful.  He draws out the scene and presents Sue’s favor as taboo, making Tommy take Carrie a bigger deal.

Overall, if I need only one reason to pick Irving, it’s her tears in the locker room.  Just another example of how emotion plays a heavy roll in De Palma’s film.

Tommy Ross

No brainer: William Katt.  I could go into several reasons why, but I’ll only address one, and that’s the scene where Tommy and Carrie vote for prom king and queen.

William Katt (top) and Ansel Elgort (bottom) as Tommy Ross

This is probably the most moving scene in De Palma’s film, next to Carrie’s winning prom queen (prior to the prank).  Before Tommy convinces Carrie to vote for herself, he tells her she’s beautiful, something she’s probably never heard in her life.  The scene almost brings tears to your eyes.

Pino Donaggio’s score adds a soft, romantic touch to this scene that increases the contrast to what will take place only minutes later.  It’s almost as if you’re watching a completely different film.

The chemistry between Katt and Spacek is so genuine that you don’t even have to question Tommy’s falling in love with Carrie.

Ansel Elgort, sadly, just didn’t have Katt’s presence.  He came off as more of a run-of-the-mill teen.  The same scene between Elgort and Moretz was, again, rushed and came off insignificant to me.  It’s one of the most touching moments of the story and it seems as if Peirce’s version fails to take advantage of it.

Miss Collins/Desjardin

Another draw for me.  Both Betty Buckley and Judy Greer bring a heartfelt touch to the gym teacher who helps Carrie with her self-esteem.

Betty Buckley (top) and Judy Greer (bottom) as Miss Collins/Desjardin

Greer always makes me laugh, so it was difficult to imagine her playing this character who helps Carrie while making the other girls’ lives hell.  She surprised me though with how she handled this dramatic role.  She even brought an unexpected comedic touch to the film, but that made sense as comedy’s her milieu.

At the prom, when Greer greets Carrie and Tommy, Tommy asks if she or Carrie want any punch, before speculating someone spiked it as an up sell.  Greer gives him a snotty look, saying, “Really?”  I found it to be random and funny; an interesting change of pace from the other film.

I enjoyed Greer overall, but there were two moments she lacked that made Buckley’s interpretation so awesome.

One of these is this priceless exchange of dialogue between Miss Collins and Chris during roll call the day after the shower incident.

Collins orders the girls to line up.  “You too, Chris,” she says.  “And spit out that gum!”

“Where will I put it Miss Collins?” Chris asks sarcastically.

“You can choke on it for all I care, just get it out of your mouth!”

The second moment is the powerful slap on the athletic field. when Chris refuses to submit to Collins’ punishment.  When told she has 10 minutes left in detention, Chris retorts, “Stick them up your ass!”

Collins approaches Chris and BAM!  Collins slaps her so hard that the shock on Chris’ face is almost overwhelming.  It’s such a therapeutic moment.

Greer and Doubleday don’t have this interaction, and oh was I disappointed.

Another scene in which I felt Greer topped Buckley was when Carrie tells Desjardin she’s been invited to the prom.

Greer’s comforting and reassuring Carrie moved me more than Buckley’s.  Part of what made it stronger was their interaction taking place in the locker room where Carrie was traumatized only two days earlier.  Buckley sits with Carrie outside the locker room, so the change in setting has an effect on the emotional impact of the scene.  I also found Greer’s tone more nurturing, as if there was more comfort in her interpretation.

If it weren’t for Buckley’s epic slap, I’d probably go with Greer because of the comedic element she provides while retaining a sense of purpose.  But because of the slap, it’s a tie.

Carrie’s Rage

This is the scene everyone waits for.

One may say De Palma’s interpretation is dull now that we get to see Moretz throw everyone around with her mind.  However, it’s the scene’s tension and eeriness that gives De Palma the edge.  The unbearable amount of time it takes for the bucket of blood to tip isn’t even the best part of his direction.  It’s his use of sound.

The absence of dialogue and emphasis of music sets the scene.  The camera rapidly cuts from person to person until the rope is pulled.  You are then left with a long, still shot of the blood spilling over Carrie.  The only sound you hear after is a lone, dangling bucket hitting the rafters, along with the dripping of blood.  Everything just stops, giving the scene an eerie sense of realism.

“They’re all gonna laugh at you!”

Peirce’s scene replaces this build-up with the rope and pulley malfunctioning; that familiar scenario where the one thing that can go wrong goes wrong, but then everything works out.  It’s a way of creating tension by providing a false flag rather than using the scene’s elements.  Peirce then shows three consecutive takes of the blood spilling.  I’m not a fan of this style because I find it superfluous.  It almost makes the scene comical, eliminating the tension.  The students’ reactions are also audible, which for me, removes De Palma’s realism of the humiliation because when something like that happens, you drown out everything around you.

I did, however, feel that displaying Carrie’s shower video in front of everyone after the blood spills added to Peirce’s vision.  This worsens Carrie’s humiliation, as she now has to experience one traumatic moment while reliving another.

The outcome is the same though – Carrie becomes enraged.

Moretz uses her hands as a way directing the telekinesis.  With an evil smile, she moves her hands about, controlling her peers like puppets.  I saw this as an attempt to better illustrate Carrie’s control.  De Palma focuses heavily on Spacek’s eyes during Carrie’s rage, emphasizing the use of her mind.

Both methods work.  I prefer Spacek’s portrayal because her eyes lock me in.  My most memorable moment from that film is Carrie shutting off the lights, slowly looking down at her blood-drenched dress and hands as an ominous tone meshes with screams.  Breathing heavily, she gazes toward her peers with intensity, preparing to kill them all.

The Ending

“Blood was always at the root of it, and only blood could expiate it.” – Stephen King

The last part I’ll discuss is the ending of both films.  For anyone who’s seen the 1976 film, it should be obvious that my vote goes to De Palma, hands down.

While both films show Sue visiting Carrie’s grave, placing flowers out of respect, there’s one element missing from Peirce’s film: Carrie’s arm.

As Sue places a bouquet of flowers at the grave, Carrie’s bloody arm unexpectedly protrudes from the ground and grabs her.  Sue wakes from this nightmare, unable to escape Carrie’s wrath despite her death.

This is a nightmare for the audience too.  The viewer’s heart pounds at the sight of Spacek’s arm and the sound of Irving’s screams before the abrupt cut to black and silence.  The film ends with Donaggio’s gentle theme of strings and flute as the credits roll and viewers’ hearts continue to race.

In Peirce’s film, after Sue places a single rose at the grave, the tombstone cracks up the middle; implying Carrie’s telekinesis, therefore questioning her death.  The scene is certainly a nod to De Palma’s ending while staying original, but it doesn’t leave the viewer with the lasting impression of the 1976 film.

As I said before, I enjoyed Peirce’s film.  It wasn’t bad, just different.  The film wasn’t creepy like De Palma’s, but it reflected a new era of society which made it all the more intriguing.

Despite its placement in horror and creepy elements, I have never viewed the 1976 Carrie as horror. That film, to me, has always been a tragedy, and what’s important to take from this new film is that though social trends change, people can always be cruel.

“I am sorry for Carrie…They’ve made her into some kind of a symbol and forgotten that she was a human being…But she was, and she hurt. More than any of us probably know, she hurt.” – Stephen King