I saw The Ring on Friday. It's an urban legend piece, sort of like Candyman, in this case featuring a video that after you watch it, the phone rings, telling you you have seven days to live. And then you die a week later. The delightful Naomi Watts, who didn't even get nominated for an Oscar for Mulholland Drive, stars as a reporter on the story, and who must have a death wish to want to pursue a story like that.

It scared the shit out of me. I practically spent the whole film on the lap of the guy sitting behind me. Having a beer with my friends afterwards felt like one long group exhale. And that was despite some of the more ridiculous parts of the movie. The video in question was art-school goth crap, and the idea of a spectral dead girl waiting for the answering machine and leaving a message was silliness up there with Hannibal Lecter's job search in Hannibal.

I hear the original Japanese version of The Ring is much better; if I see it I might end up giving birth.

Maybe I'm just whimping out in my old age or something.