As I rewatched Carrie, for the umpteenth time, I thought about the audience shock value of the final act. If you were unfamiliar with Stephen King's novel, who at that time was a relative newcomer to the literary world, you had no idea what to expect. The film supplies subtle hints, but the end is absolute batshit. Now, 45 years later, audiences aren't afforded the same shock value; we're both aware of the story and desensitized from decades of horror classics. Carrie withstands the test of time because it's a well-crafted film, but imagine viewing this unaware in 1976. What a time to be alive.
Consider this, Chris hated Carrie so much she was going to run her over with…