Hideo Nakata’s Ring is frightening because it gives us time to look and worry. Its investigation sometimes drags or confuses, but the restraint makes the scares worth waiting for.
Ring is a frightening horror film with an investigation that occasionally makes it harder work than it needs to be. Hideo Nakata gives the promise of a curse, a cure and a one-week deadline a patient treatment, trusting us to worry without constant encouragement. The premise supplies enough urgency without every scene having to insist upon it. We recommend it, with a warning that following its explanations can require more effort than it should.
Junichiro Hayashi’s cinematography is clean and restrained, giving us time to look rather than constantly redirecting our attention. The images encourage the uncomfortable habit of checking the frame for something we might have missed. Iwao Saitô’s production design works within that simplicity, keeping the surroundings from becoming a separate attraction. That is an effective choice for this sort of horror, which needs us to keep examining what is in front of us even when we would prefer to look elsewhere.
We were frightened by how much time those uncluttered images gave us to worry. There is little visual fuss to distract us, and waiting for something to happen becomes unpleasant in itself. Kenji Kawai’s music helps sustain that unease without becoming the main thing we attend to; our attention stays on the image, rather than simply awaiting the next musical warning. The restraint earns its keep because the fear continues between the obvious opportunities to be scared.
Nanako Matsushima gives Reiko Asakawa enough urgency to keep us involved when the investigation threatens to become an exercise. Hiroyuki Sanada, as Ryuji Takayama, is valuable for the same reason: the performances maintain our interest through stretches devoted to establishing the next piece of information. Neither needs to advertise the seriousness of the material. The acting suits a film that expects close attention, and it helps carry passages where the writing is less sure of itself.
Hiroshi Takahashi’s screenplay, adapted from a novel by Kōji Suzuki, is where our reservation begins. A mystery need not answer everything, but we should usually understand what its characters think they are trying to establish. Here the investigation can feel both overextended and insufficiently clear, and Nobuyuki Takahashi’s editing does not quite solve the problem. His patient cutting elsewhere gives apprehension time to settle, but that pace becomes a drawback when we are waiting for a useful connection between pieces of information. At 96 minutes, the film could still lose a little of the inquiry without damaging its scares.
There is something pleasingly unfussy about this approach to technological horror. Hideo Nakata trusts a curse and a deadline to trouble us, and gives us enough space to do some of the worrying ourselves. It asks for concentration, which is reasonable, and occasionally for more patience than the investigation deserves. Choose it for an evening when sitting quietly with a growing sense of unease sounds appealing, and allow a little tolerance for the detective work.