Carrie White only gets a few precious seconds to bask as prom queen before she's drenched by that infamous bucket of pig blood. But in the realm of pop culture, the cult of “Carrie” forever reigns supreme.

Ever since Steven King's novel hit bookshelves in 1974, there has been something about this bullied wallflower turned psychopath that refuses to die. Not only did Brian De Palma's 1976 movie version get nominated for two Oscars, it also made a star of Sissy Spacek and forever emblazoned the image of a blood-spattered waif in the collective unconscious. It's become one of the most recognizable images in the history of the horror genre, an unforgettable tableau of tiara, blood and tears.

De Palma's cult classic in turn inspired a legendary flop, a cursed 1988 Broadway musical that died on stage after just three days (despite a star turn by Betty Buckley) and a misbegotten film sequel (“The Rage: Carrie 2”³). Now a big-budget Hollywood remake opening Friday, starring Julianne Moore and ChloÃ« Grace Moretz, is about to resurrect the dark fable once more. Carrie also lives on through a cheeky new version of the stage musical at San Francisco's Ray of Light Theatre through Nov. 2.


“Carrie” is clearly still holding court in the public imagination, which doesn't surprise Kimberly Peirce one bit. Hailed for her debut film “Boys Don't Cry,” the thoughtful director jumped at the chance to remake the iconic horror flick. She believes Carrie endures through the decades because she symbolizes the vulnerability within us all. In this glossy 21st-century version, the paranormal girl unleashes her wrath in the age of texting and YouTube. But the fury is still primal.

“We are all Carrie,” says Peirce, a pixieish woman dressed in a badass biker jacket at a recent San Francisco press event. “We all want love and acceptance, we all face extraordinary obstacles, we all have some part of our lives where we are a misfit trying to fit in. That's why we can all identify.”

No stranger to mining issues of gender and power on film, Peirce sees “Carrie” as a feminist tale in its essence. Although she is quick to note that theme shouldn't diminish the film's universality.

“Anytime you are dealing with the underprivileged and the underdog, you are dealing in feminism, because feminism is about restoring those who don't have power to a place of power,” says Peirce. “At the beginning of the film, Carrie doesn't have power, she's an outcast who desperately wants to belong.”


Peirce views the movie as part revenge fantasy, part coming-of-age tale, because she believes we have to care about Carrie for the carnage to have any cathartic power.

“It's a love story, that mother fiercely loves that daughter, but she's also terrified of her,” says Peirce. “For me, the movie is very much about that bond between the mother and the daughter, everything else comes out of that.”

Far from being a monster, Carrie (played by the eerie ChloÃ« Grace Moretz), might be the victim of the piece. She's the girl everyone has picked on for so long, she has no choice but to lash out. When she finds her dark gift, telekinesis, she seals her fate. There are moments in the tale, when despite the massacre we know is coming, we can't help root for Carrie on some level.

“She's a beautiful, strange girl who just wants to be normal, she just wants to be like everyone else,” says Peirce. “Against all odds, she is willing to do anything to get to that prom.”

Carrie's dream is so humble and her tormenting so extreme (remember “Plug It Up!”), it's hard not to sympathize with her plight.

Chloe Moretz as Carrie White in &#8217;Carrie.&#8217;
Chloe Moretz as Carrie White in 'Carrie.' (MrX FX/Sony)


“We've all had a wonderfully dark daydream about getting even with someone, so we can connect to Carrie,” says Jason Hoover, director of the “Carrie” musical in San Francisco. “The audience enjoys seeing Carrie claim her vengeance, but when you step back and realize the form that vengeance comes in, and the toll it takes, the audience realizes they are on a pretty dark ride. It is a testament to Stephen King's story that we are able to identify with Carrie, even while she is burning down a town.”

Peirce goes so far as to see Carrie as something of a super hero, an avenging angel for the downtrodden.

“For me, it's a super hero origin story, with the period comes the power,” she says. “It's about female empowerment. She doesn't have a lot going for her in her life until she realizes she has these supernatural gifts.”

Peirce also takes care not to demonize Carrie's mother (a terrifying Julianne Moore), who is demented yet ultimately motivated by a need to rescue her daughter from what she perceives as the damnation of the body.

“She's not a villain, she loves her daughter so much that she wants to protect her from the world,” says Peirce, “That's why she tries so hard to control her.”


Hoover, on the other hand, believes the heart-stopping resonance of the tale comes primarily from its brutally honest depiction of bullying, the way society turns a blind eye as the strong prey upon the weak.

“King tells a story about throwing the original rough draft pages of Carrie in the trash, only to have his wife fish them out and encourage him to finish,” says Hoover. “It's a relatable story. The bullying, the high school angst, the need to fit in. All themes people can recognize, no matter how old or young.”

For the record, Hoover is well aware that many consider the “Carrie” musical synonymous with atrocious camp (the New York Times branded it “uninhibited tastelessness”). But he believes the heightened emotional world of the story naturally lends itself to the musical realm. From breaking away from her religious-fanatic mother to getting her first period in front of half the school, Carrie's universe has a surreal, almost operatic, intensity.


“The original musical was inspired by a production of 'Lulu' at the Metropolitan Opera House. The show has a good mix of bombastic drama (the religious zealot mother) and relatable (teenage bullying). Both of which mix together quite nicely,” says Hoover. “The old adage in musical theater is the song begins when the drama can no longer be expressed through spoken word. I think kids feel that they are constantly misunderstood. Which is often why they turn to music.”

In the deepest sense, “Carrie” may cut so close to the bone because it is a metaphor for the all-too-real horrors of adolescence, from misfits to mean girls, that make high school it's own kind of Grand Guignol. It's a cautionary tale about the perils of a society that forces conformity everywhere from social media to the locker room. If you don't fit in, you can either opt out or push back. The blood-bath prom may be the ultimate revenge fantasy. “For the revenge tragedy to work, it has to be really delicious,” says Peirce. “We have to root for Carrie because we all want justice, we all want the bad guy to get what he deserves, we all wish we had the power to dish out that vengeance.”



Cast: Julianne Moore, ChloÃ« Grace Moretz

Director: Kimberly Peirce

Running time: 1 hour, 39 minutes