The One Ring

Every so often you run across a movie that redefines a genre for you. One that crawls into the nether recesses of your wet bits and refuses to vacate. That becomes a part of your dreams and your nightmares.

The Ring.

Just saw it last night (okay, I'm a bit behind in my cinema experiences), and... I still can't sleep. Due to a broken bed frame, Leah and I slept on the couches last night. In the living room.

With the TV.

For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I refuse to give away anything.

For those of you who have seen it... you understand.

To make it worse, we pushed the couches face-together to make a makeshift double bed. I was on the couch below the windows, facing the TV... which I couldn't see due to the back of the other couch. But I knew it was there. Just feet away. Nothing between it, and me, but a few short feet of air. And a couch. And Leah.

And Frosty.

This movie got so under my skin that I spent last night entrusting my safety to a plastic Frosty the Snowman ring that was on a cupcake we bought after the movie. No, really. Somewhere in the dark of the night, after my adult self had given up and retreated to the darkness, my child self decided that Frosty would protect against the black-haired figure in white linen I saw spider-crawling over the back of the sofa every time I closed my eyes. I spent all night making sure that ring was still on, and that it faced the TV. When I rolled over, I put it on the other hand to make sure it still faced the TV.

That, my friends, is a horror movie.

I spent much of today fixing the bed. In the room without a TV.

And yet...

... is that a light rainfall on the roof...

... or static from downstairs?

The One Ring

Every so often you run across a movie that redefines a genre for you. One that crawls into the nether recesses of your wet bits and refuses to vacate. That becomes a part of your dreams and your nightmares.

The Ring.

Just saw it last night (okay, I'm a bit behind in my cinema experiences), and... I still can't sleep. Due to a broken bed frame, Leah and I slept on the couches last night. In the living room.

With the TV.

For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I refuse to give away anything.

For those of you who have seen it... you understand.

To make it worse, we pushed the couches face-together to make a makeshift double bed. I was on the couch below the windows, facing the TV... which I couldn't see due to the back of the other couch. But I knew it was there. Just feet away. Nothing between it, and me, but a few short feet of air. And a couch. And Leah.

And Frosty.

This movie got so under my skin that I spent last night entrusting my safety to a plastic Frosty the Snowman ring that was on a cupcake we bought after the movie. No, really. Somewhere in the dark of the night, after my adult self had given up and retreated to the darkness, my child self decided that Frosty would protect against the black-haired figure in white linen I saw spider-crawling over the back of the sofa every time I closed my eyes. I spent all night making sure that ring was still on, and that it faced the TV. When I rolled over, I put it on the other hand to make sure it still faced the TV.

That, my friends, is a horror movie.

I spent much of today fixing the bed. In the room without a TV.

And yet...

... is that a light rainfall on the roof...

... or static from downstairs?