Carrie – review | Peter Bradshaw

Stephen King's bloody teen masterpiece has been updated – but with few 21st-century additions and fewer still original touches

It is strange to think that the high school prom is an American tradition that Brits are attempting to import, despite Hollywood doing its best to warn us about it over the years, in all sorts of films. Supposedly a romantic event for teenagers, an appropriate night to lose one's virginity and an opportunity for the prom queen to experience a status boost equal to her wedding day, it has been regularly exposed on screen as a theatre of cruelty, anxiety and most of all, humiliation. The two classic texts are surely the Farrelly brothers' There's Something About Mary (1998), in which Ben Stiller gets his penis caught in his zipper, and Brian De Palma's Carrie (1976), in which Sissy Spacek gets a bucket of pig's blood tipped over her head. It is this second film,
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