Ring 2
Hideo Nakata, 1999,
Whatever the Exorcist II apologists may tell you, its legendarily scatterbrained attempt to rationalize the irrational is not something to aspire to, even more so if you’re unwilling to match its level of sheer lunacy. Supernatural mythology, especially in Eastern traditions, is a lizard-brain beast with little use for reason, but like that ill-advised Exorcist sequel, Ringu 2 attaches electrodes to its spooks, making a fairly simple story of ghostly revenge into a drawn-out thesis on telepathically connecting to victims of some kind of quasi-possession to draw out their excess of fear energy and neutralize it with water. Or something? If you’re wondering how we got from “watching this haunted videotape will kill you!” to… whatever this is, join the club. The production designer gives the film a lot more fancy machinery than the screenwriter gives it internal logic, and worst of all, it’s as dull as it is convoluted.
I’ve now watched six of these movies from both sides of the Pacific, and they’re ultimately just another example of the film industry’s insatiable appetite for smearing a cash cow with layer after layer of bullshit. Whether or not the industry deserves more scorn than the audiences who keep showing up for it, I’m as convinced as ever that art and commerce are mortal enemies.
