A rather discomforting vibration is sent when the inevitable is splashed from overhead the pimply, introvert Carrieta White–and I speak of this in part-distaste and confusion. In needless slow-motion, Portia Doubleday’s all-too sketchy Chris Hargensen, pulls the rope, soaks poor Carrie (played by Chloe Moretz) in pig’s blood, and triggers the iconic prom massacre, that, felt more a bland vomitorium rather than a terror-filled wreaking of havoc. The latter is a nostalgic image, as seen in the form of Brian De Palma’s beloved 1976 classic, lead by Sissy Spacek in her terrifying “you can only push people, until they break” state of madness. I seek not to compare De Palma’s realized translation with this weaker wreckage; I seek rather to put emphasis on this remake having its shot, and ultimately failing.
Among its shortlist of achievements, Kimberly Pierce’s “Carrie” manages to translate the Stephen King novel into film well–there are good homages and some nice touches–if ultimately lacking in some important aspects. The nuances of King’s characters weren’t explored very well. Hargensen, that senseless little urchin–whom we passionately lust to see die a horrific death–deflated into someone whose demise we give no care for. It’s a matter of importance, you see, as in Carrie’s vengeance we feel a sense of triumph, pity and all the heavy feelings in the world (at least both in the novel and the original film). In this film we feel very little of something. We find it very difficult to plunge ourselves in it.
If anything, the daring Julianne Moore is worth to see, channeling the Piper Laurie in her, (unlike the confused portrayal of Moretz who seems to be lost between channeling and mimicry). I know no higher regard I can possibly give that the film deserves.
RATING: 1.5 stars (out of 4)