Answer: Carrie
So, let’s talk about Carrie (1976) for a second—the movie that took teenage humiliation and cranked it up to supernatural horror levels, all with the subtlety of a blood-soaked sledgehammer. Directed by Brian De Palma, this adaptation of Stephen King’s novel has everything: telekinesis, religious fanaticism, high school cliques, and pig’s blood. But we all know the real reason people still talk about Carrie isn’t just the prom scene—it’s that final, “holy crap, what just happened?” moment where Carrie’s hand bursts out of the ground and nearly gives the audience a collective heart attack.
Here’s the kicker: that wasn’t even supposed to be in the movie. De Palma’s producers told him, “Nah, you’re good. The film’s emotional arc is done, let’s leave it there.” But De Palma, in true De Palma fashion, thought, “Why stop at devastation when I can slap people with one last punch in the face?” So he added the hand-from-the-grave jump scare at the very last minute, completely disregarding the conventional wisdom of the time. It wasn’t just about scaring people, though—it was about leaving a mark. And leave a mark it did. The scene shocked audiences so much that they couldn’t even relax during the credits.
What’s wild is that this decision basically set the blueprint for every horror movie that came after. Suddenly, the end of a horror film wasn’t safe anymore. Before Carrie, you’d hit the climax, and the credits would roll. But after Carrie, the game changed. Audiences knew that a movie could haunt you one more time, just when you thought you’d made it out. It was like the horror equivalent of a mic drop, and it became a trend. I mean, without Carrie, you don’t get the end of Friday the 13th, or A Nightmare on Elm Street, or basically every other slasher film from the ’80s that tacks on a final scare after the dust has settled.
In a weird way, it was less about the actual scare and more about De Palma’s understanding of audience psychology. He knew how to manipulate the emotional rollercoaster of a film. He wasn’t just thinking about the story—he was thinking about how people would feel walking out of the theater. He wanted them to leave rattled. And let’s be honest, we’re all still a little rattled by that hand reaching up from the grave. It’s like the cinematic equivalent of someone tapping you on the shoulder just to remind you they’re still there, even after they’re long gone.