If You Liked It Then You Shoulda Put The Ring on It

I have a tendency around benchmark holidays (Christmas, 4th of July, in this case Halloween) to refer to roughly the three weeks prior to the actual calendar date of the holiday as "[Insert Holiday Name Here] Season." To honor the commencement of said season I love to engage in activities that are associated with said holiday. I don't think that this is such an unusual practice but after my 14-year-old sister responded dismissively about the cultural existence of "Halloween Season" I found it necessary to give a thorough explanation of how I conceptualize this three weeks. Because Halloween Season is upon us, I know have the insatiable urge to watch as many horror movies from my past as possible.

Furiously digging through the depths of my parents' VHS cabinet for relics from my former cinematic tastes which included leading ladies the likes of Neve Campbell and Jennifer Love Hewitt, I was disappointed to discover that most of my slasher collection hadn't survived the move south. But one lone soldier remained, 2002 classic The Ring. Generally I was (and still kind of am) too freaked out by movies whose scare center lies in demonic possessions or paranormal elements. I tended to prefer murders or things that were within human control when I would watch a horror movie. But last night I was feeling bold and wanted to share the primary viewing experience of this freaky flick with my 14-year-old sister, still perturbed by her dubious response to the existence of Halloween Season.

After a brief cajoling which included my selling this proposition to her by telling her that The Ring was actually a romantic comedy about a surprise engagement between two Midwestern Waffle House employees named Peggy and Bill, and that it was titled The Ring because of Peggy's surprise at the proposal and the beautiful engagement ring offered to her by Bill, (she obviously didn't buy it), my older sister insisted that the familial revisiting of The Ring was essential to our evening. Thanks Lauren!

I have to admit, moments before the movie began I was revisiting the same feelings that I had when I had first called my friend my sophomore year of high school and said, "Do you want to see The Ring tonight in Huntington at 7:30?" It was an immediate, "Oh shit" reaction, an, "I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth" kind of thing. I immediately regretted the suggestion and wanted more than anything to take it back. But my friends had been sold, as had my sisters. Again, thanks Lauren.

But this time rather than being terrified by the seemingly senseless inclusion of various neurosis and random assortment of freaky ass shit, I was just kind of annoyed by it. The construction of the narrative that's intended to weave together the fear factor elements is sloppy, inconsistent and at times borders on absurdity. Nothing in the movie tends to make sense. Nothing in the movie means anything. It's sole intention is to freak you out and it does, the first time, in theatres. After that it feels as though the movie itself is just a broader reflection of the video that the girl makes, a nonsensical threading together of hauntingly bizarre images and occurrences that maybe later lurk in your consciousness but don't directly infiltrate your way of thinking.

What I mean to say is that The Ring is a movie that once I knew what was coming, viewing it made it not mind blowingly frightening but more frustrating in its incongruencies and seeming lack of subversive message. What's also frustrating and could potentially be attributed to the lack of symbolism in the movie, is the lack of explanation given for a huge chunk of the plot. How did this girl get these images onto film? Why did she spare the life of Naomi Watts but not her husband Deadbeat Dad Noah? What's with the nose bleeds? Though metaphor is admittedly frustrating when heavy handed, to a thinking viewer it's more frustrating when it's understated or completely absent, and even more annoying when its absence causes a sloppily constructed storyline.

There were glimmers of messages about overstimulation from television as media when our female protagonist is out on her apartment porch, peering into the large windows of her neighbors and internally counting how many of them are watching television which seems like a subtle ode to Hitchcock but, again, that message is quickly dropped if intended at all. And there's also the stretch at saying the film deals with absentee fathers as the two characters whose deaths are most graphically included match that archetype. But, again, it's a stretch.

I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say on a greater level aside from the fact that The Ring, as an admittedly iconic horror movie, is one that is worthy of canonical status only because of its success gauged by box office revenue and ability to be so haunting, even if only the first time, while still maintaining a PG-13 rating. There are certainly films that I could revisit that I'm sure would still scare me as much as when I had seen them the first time, The Exorcist terrifies me every time I've seen it since the 7th grade. But I need more congruence and subversiveness in the film's metaphor for it to have a lasting fear factor for me as a viewer.

Maybe it's my own fault for not having taken the time to see The Ring 2. Maybe everything comes together in the unsuccessful sequel and my criticism is resultant from ignorance of the greater narrative at work here. Well at least my parents didn't get rid of the epic I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, Brandy and a dred-locked Jack Black really were the glue that held those flicks together.