What is a Name?

An Induction to Horror

"What happened after the prom scene?" I ask my mother quietly before she can dash away to her party. "How does the story end?"

She glances around the semi-crowded room, as everyone is making their way to the backyard pool in the early rays of sunset.

"We'll talk later," she softly promises, impressed by my sudden interest in something other than cartoons (but also likely amused by my poor sense of timing).

The year is 2007. The season, summer. And I've just watched Brian De Palma's Carrie from 1976... or at least most of it before I was unceremoniously kicked-out of the living room by my 4 year-old brother. It was my first viewing of the iconic Sissy Spacek-lead film, one that was held in surprisingly high-regard from my Catholic-parents (who, as far as I'd known by that point, did not enjoy spooky, "horror" themed movies at all!).

And I, my dear friends, was hooked!

I mean, obsessively, and unforgivably, HOOKED!

It would be another few months (closer to my 15th birthday) when I would get to see Carrie (1976) again on AMC - and this time actually get to finish the whole movie (iconic jump-scare and all). And it would be a little more than a year later before I finally got to read the Stephen King novel for myself (ostentatiously a 16th birthday present from my parents who continued to surprise me by that point in my life)...

Stephen King's debut novel is probably one of my favorite - if not my absolute favorite - books of all time. And the De Palma film, while not a perfect one-to-one adaptation, is certainly one of - if not the best - adaptations I ever seen of a book-to-film project.

I have held both in the highest regard ever since I genuinely started taking an interest in all things spooky at age 14.

So (admittedly) as a result, no other interpretation of King's novel can ever compare to the first '76 outing - even though each adaptation brings something unique, earnest, and honestly really cool, to the table of our larger entertainment landscape.

So when I first heard that another adaptation was about to drop - and in a series-format of all things - my first reaction was:

"O-oh? Really...?"

And then when I learned that it was a projected headed by director Mike Flanagan, my next reaction was:

".... oh... really...??"

Talented Director… Wrong Project?

Now, I do want to admit one thing: I do admire Mike Flanagan's work.

He's got a strong eye and a really sharp instinct for honing in on subtle horrors of the human condition; an instinct that I think has really served him well in re-interpreting older materials, and presenting them to modern audiences in a more digestible way - both of which can be a surprisingly challenging skill for a lot story-tellers.

I'm not as angry as other Shirley Jackson fans for his interpretation of "The Haunting of Hill House" (simply because us Purists still have the ever-haunting work of cinema, The Haunting, starring Julie Harris); I was genuinely impressed with his incarnation of "The Turn of the Screw" when The Haunting of Bly Manor dropped on Netflix - thought probably because The Turning dropped in the early years of the pandemic and it. Was. BAD!

Even Flanagan's interpretation of the works of Edgar Allen Poe, from The Fall of the House of Usher, was delightfully creepy, sad, and cathartic, and all in equal measure... a feat that, still, many filmmakers have yet to master!

But here's the difference between those writers and the works of Stephen King:

King is still, well, KING in the realms of post-modern day horror -

And his active fan-base is only 50 years-old - and still counting.

Even before the latest Carrie series dropped earlier this October, there was already a lot of discourse surrounding the direction Flanagan was taking his adaptation.

For one thing, many fans - both die-hard and casual - were taking issue with the fact that, once again, they chose to cast the lead role as a conventionally-attractive young girl... something even the first De Palma film leaned into heavily when they cast then-25-year-old Sissy Spacek.

The only reason Sissy gets a pass, however, is because she clearly understood the assignment: famously greasing her hair, wearing a homely outfit, and deliberately isolating herself from the other auditioning actresses, she clearly recognized that Carrie White is already - inherently - an awkward and off-putting kid...

As of now, I've still yet to see the 8-episode series for myself - partly because I'm very scared to see it, and partly because I wanted to write this opening-essay completely blind to the latest attempt for the sake of total-objectivity; to really try to hone-in on why critics are enjoying it but the fans have been more vocal in their dissatisfaction.

But there is one pseudo-critique I've seen floating round online that I am inclined to agree with: the casting of the lead.

Carietta "Carrie" White Is NOT a convincing Prom Queen...

I don't care who you are or what your high-school career was like: YOU have been Carrie White at some point: that teenage-kid who was (or even just felt) awkward, ugly, unwanted, and really, really stinky that day (for some God-forsaken reason): you, at one point in your adolescence, experienced what it feels like to be "the" outcast; "the" misfit; to be "the one" who, for just one moment, didn't belong.

You have also, at one point in your adolescence, been the one to be stuck with the outcast, the misfit, and/or the one who didn't belong, for just a moment...

And you HATED them for it.

A friend of mine, Grey, once said it best:

"When you turn 12, you discover your capacity for EVIL!"

Carrie White has been through what every teenager fears most and has gone through at some point: nothing fits (figuratively and literally), your parents don't help you, and you can't stand anyone who dares to come near you. She is someone every teenager can relate to - and has been someone every teenager avoids.

The book does such a great job of holding up a mirror to the reader, and asking the very unspoken question of childhood: "what would you do if you encountered Carrie White in high school?"
Would you be the victim, or the victimize-er; what would you chose?

In that sense, part of the horror of the novel is that literally everyone failed Carrie - even Sue Snell, the only one who did her best to extend the only peace-offering Carrie was ever given

That does not make Carrie White a "perfect victim,” contrary to what the casting (unintentionally) implies - and, I think, this is one of the reasons fans were already so pissed with Flanagan’s direction, before the series dropped.

As of now, I haven’t seen the 2026 series yet. I am working very hard to reserve judgement until I do get the chance to sit down and watch it myself. 

But I’m struggling with that for a couple of reasons: 

1. That means having to temporarily boycott a few of my favorite reviewers online, so that I don’t get the tea second-hand, and can have a more objective opinion…
   But that’s surprisingly difficult to achieve in a world of constant social-media updates.

2. I know very well now, in my 34 years of enjoying movies and books, that once you know something you can never completely un-know it.
   And I’ve been burned by more than a few adaptations and “interpretations” already to feel, I think, justifiably bitter about the knowledge I am now cursed with.

I don’t know if I’ll enjoy this adaptation; if I’ll ultimately hate it; or if I’ll actually find something intriguing about it along the way (something new it brings to the table that I genuinely vibe with). 

The only things I know about myself, right now in this moment: 

1. I am slowly realizing that I am, in fact, something of “Purist” when it comes to my adaptations -

2. I’m gonna wait until November 1st before I tune in (on the off-chance it spoils my “Halloween” vibes)

I’m scared. I’m hopeful. I’m intrigued - and just a smidgen sanctimonious - but so help me Stephen King, I will watch this series and discover the greatest of all the Carrie-Adaptations! 

And I won’t even need to stuff the ballot-box to do it.