The Ring: A
I love horror movies the way a fat kid loves cake. It’s my guilty pleasure genre, and I end up sitting through a lot of dreck in search of a few good scares. Most of my favorite horror films (Halloween, The Exorcist, A Nightmare on Elm Street) came out before I was alive/allowed to watch them in the theatre; thus, The Ring is the most scared I’ve ever been at the movies, narrowly edging The Blair Witch Project. When Samara crawls out of the well and through the tv at the end, I can still remember what I said aloud, squirming with the rest of the opening night crowd: “Oh my god, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”
It would’ve been one of the best horror films of the decade if it had ended after the harrowing scene with Naomi Watts “rescuing” Samara out of the well. That double climax just made it an instant classic. Basically, you’re on edge of your seat from the masterful opening scene with the two girls alone in the house, and it never lets up. The tape that supposedly kills you if you watch it itself is unsettling, and when you get home and realize that you’ve also seen it, you’re just hoping that the tv isn’t on static when you turn it on, or you just might wet yourself.