Editorials
Sadako vs. Samara – Why ‘The Ring’ Is Terrifying in Either Language [Revenge of the Remakes]
Gore Verbinski’s The Ring led the first wave of early 2000s horror remakes that partially defined the era’s landscape alongside Saw torture-porners and other reactionary post-9/11 subgenres. Granted, remakes have always been a foundational pillar that keeps horror reinventing itself decade after decade — but the 2000s were different. Production companies like Platinum Dunes and Dark Castle Entertainment fixated on updating horror favorites from iconic slashers to Vincent Price oldies, banking on nostalgia as an added profitability measure (less so for Dark Castle, unfortunately). It’s curious though, because 2003’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and others get referenced when conversations think back to what started The Great 2000s Remake Avalanche — The Ring somewhat forgotten in these terms.
That could be because The Ring is based on Hideo Nakata’s Japanese adaptation Ringu (aka Ring), an international ghost story less popular with domestic audiences whose first introduction to Koji Suzuki’s 1991 novel was Verbinski’s Americanization. That’s not a scold, just an observation. The Ring is still frequently heralded as a top-tier horror heavyweight in a post-Y2K world, exemplified by soggy-haired Samara’s inescapable pop-culture relevance. From Saturday Night Live sketches to the most intricately planned and well-oiled cosplays, Verbinski brought a new face of terror to stateside audiences who’ve yet to escape Samara’s curse — somewhat overshadowing the Japanese original.
The Approach
‘Ringu’ (1998)
Verbinski set out to remake Nakata’s Ringu more than adapt Suzuki’s literature anew. The filmmaker was handed a VHS of Ringu, and only a short time later, the determined Verbinski was securing remake rights. Ehren Kruger’s screenplay comes from what’s seen on screen in Ringu — an interesting approach with Suzuki’s novel on the table. One of the great outs for horror filmmakers remaking movies based on existing works is that you can pick up the source material and start from scratch, but that’s not what intrigued Verbinski. He was so rattled and transfixed by Nakata’s Ringu, that’s what Verbinski wanted to recapture.
The bones of Kruger’s narrative are noticeably the same. Naomi Watts plays Seattle-based journalist Rachel Keller, who’s investigating a supposedly cursed videotape in relation to her niece’s death. Martin Henderson is Noah Clay — a video analyst and her ex-boyfriend — who aids Rachel as she races against a countdown clock that suggests she’ll die in seven days if supernatural paranoia proves to be confirmed. Things become graver when Rachel and Noah’s son Aidan (David Dorfman) watches a copy of the vengeful videotape supposedly killing its audience, which brings a frantic Rachel into Samara’s (Daveigh Chase) tragic world. Nothing too unfamiliar to fans of Ringu, at least on the surface.
Outside the basic parallels of a journalist lead, sidekick ex-lover, and endangered child are diversions that firmly separate The Ring and Ringu. Verbinski previously notes that roughly half of The Ring is brand new, rewriting Samara’s backstory or erasing mumbles about “brine and goblins.” The Ring is a vastly more straightforward horror approach that uses bathtub electrocutions and downplays some of the friction between Rachel and Noah, falling in line with the “show, don’t tell” mentality of American horror productions. Nakata’s Japanese iteration follows more character-driven, almost “true crime” guidelines that leave terror to the imagination — Verbinski doesn’t want us working all that hard to understand why we should fear Samara.
Does It Work?
‘The Ring’ (2002)
Verbinski doesn’t disgrace Nakata’s signatures nor waste an opportunity to shine a light on Ringu. What survives the translation from Japanese to English helps Verbinski introduce American audiences to J-Horror spirituality and dampness, while also driving interest toward Ringu. Kruger’s screenplay (supposedly with an uncredited Scott Frank rewrite) doesn’t mean to be a ripoff, nor does Verbinski try to mimic Nakata’s directorial personality (pacing, tone, etcetera). The Ring works because what’s inherently terrifying about Ringu is present, but Verbinski assures individuality through a lens meant to serve American audiences more easily deterred by descriptors like “pulp” and “avant-garde” (how Verbinski describes Nakata’s masterpiece).
What’s missing is Nakata’s mysticism and more Japanese-styled horror flourishes, which doesn’t necessarily dock points, but when watched back-to-back, The Ring helps me appreciate Ringu a hair more. Verbinski sets his sights on punchier scares, quicker impacts, and inescapable dread, whereas Nakata explores fable-like tragedies. It’s as simple as comparing both video reels of disturbing imagery. Where Nakata’s tape plays a montage of naturalistic black-and-white vignettes from cresting waves to written Japanese language, Verbinski goes for the kill with slithery centipedes, rotting livestock corpses, and hardware nails puncturing fingers. Nakata invites the audience to imaginatively run wild with horrors that aren’t always explicitly visible — a main essence that defines J-Horror — where Verbinski plays to American demographics who want to see everything up close and personal, without a shadow of a doubt.
Kruger and Verbinski’s alterations are dagger-sharp calculations that work within their confines. There’s never a forced feeling to recreate Nakata’s far more ghastly yet wickedly whimsical Ringu — the definitions of “good” and “evil” are cemented by Verbinski, where Nakata leans into moral dilemmas and a fluctuating state of gloom. It’s not like the recreation of Ryūji Takayama (the original ex-boyfriend played by Hiroyuki Sanada) in Henderson’s Noah is worse because he doesn’t possess any sixth sense or psychic abilities. Verbinski opts for a more grounded spectral race against time that’s far darker — visually and thematically — which works because it’s given complete devotion. Homage is paid to Nakata’s O.G. in broad foundational strokes, but in practice, Verbinski snatches the proverbial baton and is off to the races without a glance backward.
The Result
‘The Ring’ (2002)
The Ring still holds its ground as a sufficiently scare-stuffed 2000s horror staple. It’s easy to see why a slew of J-Horror remakes would follow from The Grudge to Shutter and beyond since The Ring paralyzed frightened audiences and turned a sizable profit (almost 250m against a 48m budget). From the Scary Movie spoofed introduction featuring two schoolgirls gossiping about boyfriends and parties to an ending that sees Noah succumb to Samara’s deadly gaze, Verbinski cares more about jumps, jolts, and raised hairs to an exceptional length. While Ringu can sometimes feel like a haunted soap opera, The Ring stays focused on making audiences squirm in their seats. It may become more expected through the everyday use of jump scares and horror tropes, but execution delivers well above lesser copycats.
There’s a reason why the mangled, putrid, distorted face of Amber Tamblyn has become one of the go-to jump scare examples in horror since 2002. There’s a reason why cinematographer Bojan Bazelli’s shot selections of jagged skeletal trees and rainy Washington landscapes are still talked about as a strikingly gorgeous example of genre filmmaking that isn’t afraid of succumbing to darkness. I don’t usually love the drab blueish, sickly-greenish lighting filter that cools the mood throughout movies. However, this waterlike hue highlights that downtrodden atmosphere of environmental wetness and atmospheric duress. The Ring is so well composed of elements that otherwise would seem ordinary and overdone, which is an odd compliment but one still earned by Verbinski.
Although, there’s a dimension missing from Verbinski’s clear-cut “simplification” of Ringu that I didn’t think that critically of until seeing both films in the same sitting. It’s a greater adjustment, explicitly noticed by how Kruger eliminates the frantic water-bucket sequence from Ringu by knocking Rachel into Samara’s well-grave with a static-buzzing television that breaks through floorboards. There’s rich drama, and we learn so much about the characters of Reiko Asakawa (the Japanese original’s journalist played by Nanako Matsushima) and Ryūji just by their teamwork as one fills a container with water and the other hoists from above. The Ring doesn’t value these moments as highly or outright wipes their existence, weakening the importance of Rachel and Noah’s relationship to emphasize brutal scares that are at least worth their spotlights.
The Lesson
‘The Ring’ (2002)
Once again, as I reiterate entry after entry, originality is key when remaking international films. Verbinski creates with freshness where something like Quarantine exhaustively replicates. Cultural horror trends won’t resonate as well in other nations, so it makes sense why the more tradition-oriented Ringu gets a makeover with The Ring. Japanese society has a bit different relationship with the afterlife and spiritual beliefs than the more “realistic,” maybe cut-and-dry American audiences looking for The Ring to take a harder stance against the amazingly designed Samara: dripping wet, bangs like greasy shades covering her death-peering eyes, clothes and skin fizzling like television fuzz from wonky antennas.
So what did we learn?
● It’s not always about going bigger and better, but exploring a different presentation of a familiar story — The Ring is meaner, nastier, and more visually charged versus the tell vs. show Ringu.
● Naomi Watts has never topped The Ring despite starring in multiple horror remakes.
● The Ring versus Ringu is one of the best showcases of significant differences between American and Japanese horror filmmaking signatures.
● I’ll never be able to watch the Katie jump scare without reacting — a wince, a sigh, anything.
Give Verbinski all the credit because The Ring ushered in a wave of J-Horror remakes and introduced American horror audiences to a whole universe of Japanese originals to watch after their English language counterparts. It takes more than a remake to turn lower-level horror viewers on to international originals — it takes a good remake. Interest in originals doesn’t translate when the remake tanks. The Ring could have been a non-starter for an entire horror movement, but thankfully Verbinski opened the door to a deluge of J-Horror interest.
As horror journalists and superfans, we must remember that the everyday moviegoer doesn’t have the same dedication or resources even to know something like Nakata’s Ringu exists without the right entry point. The Ring is that exact mainstream, studio-produced gateway that alone presents a pro-remake argument we horror obsessors must remember.
In Revenge of the Remakes, columnist Matt Donato takes us on a journey through the world of horror remakes. We all complain about Hollywood’s lack of originality whenever studios announce new remakes, reboots, and reimaginings, but the reality? Far more positive examples of refurbished classics and updated legacies exist than you’re willing to remember (or admit). The good, the bad, the unnecessary – Matt’s recounting them all.
Editorials
‘Killer Klowns from Outer Space: The Game’ Preview: A Fresh Twist on the Multiplayer Horror Formula
“Everyone knows who Jason is. Everyone can point out The Predator. And, of course, everyone’s familiar with the Ghostbusters!”
So says Jared Gerritzen, Chief Creative Officer at IllFonic, as we sit down for a quick interview with him on Discord. He’s certainly an authoritative voice on this matter too, given that he’s worked on adaptations for each of those cherished properties over the years (in the form of Friday the 13th: The Game, Predator: Hunting Grounds and Ghostbusters: Spirits Unleashed), giving them all the asymmetrical multiplayer treatment that his development studio has got down to a fine art by now.
He continues: “And that means that people have pre-conceived notions of what those franchises should be. I guess what I’m saying is that they come with the burden of expectation, as you’ve got to [appease] fans of every individual movie or comic-book, regardless of their varying degrees of quality.”
Yet Gerritzen seems less wary of any such purism when it comes to IllFonic’s latest release. Probably because it’s based on an IP that’s nowhere near as venerated in the pop-culture zeitgeist.
From Enduring Blockbusters to a Cult Movie
There’s no two ways about it; Killer Klowns from Outer Space is a textbook example of a cult classic. While it might be yet another hallmark of the 1980s, it’s one that’s far less recognizable to your Average Joe cinemagoer than Ghostbusters and it’s effectively been left untouched by the Hollywood system for almost four decades.
If you’ve not seen it, the film is a B-movie pastiche about a group of ancient astronauts, who inadvertently inspired our planet’s tradition of jesters and fools, running amok in a Gremlins-style rampage. Their goal being to encase hapless earthlings in cotton candy cocoons, so that they can later drink their gelatinized fluids as a means of sustenance. It’s every bit as daft as it sounds.
With that said, apart from the fact that its titular ETs have glowing red weak spots for noses, there’s nothing about Killer Klowns that makes it feel like a particularly obvious candidate for a video game revival in the year 2024. The demented brainchild of the Chiodo Brothers — a trio of special effects renaissance men with shared expertise in claymation, animatronics, creature design, stop motion and more — it’s a modestly budgeted affair that hardly set the box office ablaze, didn’t really penetrate the mainstream consciousness, and never got a sequel (in an era when that was practically an industry mandate). And yet here we are.
For his part, Gerritzen is cognizant of the brand’s relatively niche appeal, conceding: “It’s one of those things where some goofy kids had this absurd idea almost 40 years ago, turned it into a movie and then it just kind of [disappeared] into the ether. But over the decades people keep on rediscovering it and there is a real passionate fanbase out there! You’d be surprised by the number of people who have approached us at expos like PAX, proudly displaying their tattoos of Jumbo or getting starstruck [when they] meet the Chiodos over at our booth.
“And for those who don’t know Killer Klowns, we hope that our game will serve as a gateway into that wonderfully weird world. That they’ll play it and seek out this completely insane film that they’ll fall in love with too.”
On that note, even if it’s not as legendary as Predator or Ghostbusters, IllFonic is still adapting Killer Klowns from Outer Space with the same reverence they held for those other, arguably more prestigious, licenses. Regarding that original film as a kind of holy text, they have been careful to honor its spirit, its tone, its mythos and its iconography in every single aspect of their new title.
So if you are a card-carrying Klownhead, there will be ample opportunity here for you to do the Rick Dalton fingerpoint. Indeed, over the course of just a 30-minute preview session, we struggled to count how many Crescent Cove landmarks we encountered (Hello Big Top Burger!), how many cute Easter Eggs we managed to spot, and how many of our favourite moments we got to experience first-hand. Whether we were avoiding detection from a balloon-animal tracker as a human, or performing a gravity-defying vertical jump as one of the aliens in order to zip around the map; it all felt so authentic.
Rebalancing the Asymmetrical Multiplayer Genre
Speaking of which, this is an IllFonic production (co-developed with Teravision Games) and so it’s naturally an online asymmetrical take on the material. Borrowing quite a bit from Friday the 13th, it’s got the usual match structure that you’ve come to expect from this sort of thing.
Those in the role of would-be victims must scavenge the environment for various items that will unlock escape routes — such as gasoline to fuel a boat, spark plugs to power various electronics, or keycards to enter shelters — while their opponents have the considerably more straightforward task of just murdering everyone in sight.
To be fair, Klown gameplay is a little bit more nuanced than the mindless slaughter F13 veterans might be accustomed to, as you’ll also need to keep your eyes peeled for valuable cotton candy cocoons. These resources can be hooked up to generators — scattered all over the environment — in order to accelerate the apocalyptic countdown that triggers the ends of the match, as well as to spawn in lackeys that will alert you to your quarry’s location. Think of it a bit like how feeding Grandpa works in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Not to mention, you’ll also have a suite of fun gadgets and abilities at your disposal too, like the aforementioned super jump, popcorn bazookas and oversized mallets for caving in skulls.
Somewhat unusually for this genre though, humans can give just as good as they get. From firearms to melee weapons and throwables, they have the capacity for self-defense and can take the fight directly to their interstellar tormentors, provided that they coordinate as team of course.
In fact, some well-placed buckshot or a powerful axe-swing might be enough to take one of the Klowns out of commission, meaning that you can actually rack up some kills as a survivor for once. As someone who has been hoisted upon one-too-many hooks in Dead by Daylight, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s pretty damn cathartic.
Recalling how this refreshing twist came about, Gerritzen told us: “It’s a delicate balance. We’ve made four of these asymmetrical horror games now and think we have a pretty strong understanding of what does and doesn’t work.
“The key thing is that humans have to feel vulnerable, otherwise playing as a Klown isn’t satisfying whatsoever. But we also know, from experience, that you can go too far in the other direction. If you make the killers overpowered in these games, then you leave room for annoying scenarios [wherein] somebody spawns, turns the wrong corner and is immediately killed through no fault of their own. That really sucks! It’s one of the reasons we decided to let the humans have a real fighting chance here.”
Evening the playing field further, Killer Klowns from Outer Space: The Game boldly eschews tradition by allowing its survivors to respawn mere moments after death (albeit without their gear). As a result, the main concern for human players is not that they could kick the bucket too early, but rather that they might not be able to escape before the timer hits zero. That’s ultimately how you fail here, and it creates an entirely different dynamic. One that encourages you to take more risks, instead of simply cowering in hiding places while your partners do all the heavy lifting.
Should you get away, then you are also incentivized to stick around as a spectator by participating in a short arcadey minigame, through which you can gift your leftover items to any teammates who are still in jeopardy, helping them out in their hour of need. Again, it’s a neat, innovative way of balancing the scales.
Trading Blood & Guts for Confetti & Glitter
Because of that (much-appreciated) second wind mechanic, we actually managed to emerge victorious on our very first round as a survivor. And this was despite the fact that we fell victim to a “Klownality” at the 10-minute mark.
Which brings us to those wacky finisher animations.
Named in a way that blatantly nods towards their Mortal Kombat counterparts, these are uninterruptable kills that Klowns can perform should they manage to down their prey. Unlike fatalities, though, they’re not excessive displays of bloodshed and viscera, so much as they are silly little visual gags that befit the source material. Rather than ripping out spinal columns or bisecting people with saw blades then, you’re far likelier to be pelting them with an entire patisserie’s worth of custard pies.
Describing the rationale behind this, Gerritzen explained: “When we’ve been adapting movies in the past, we’ve often had the privilege of getting to work with the original creators. We were lucky enough to meet Ivan Reitman and Dan Aykroyd when doing Ghostbusters, for instance. Yet that was very much on an ad-hoc basis. They weren’t deeply involved with the project.
“Whereas I now text the Chiodos almost weekly to ask them questions and [solicit] their opinion on what we’re doing. It’s been really, really cool becoming friends with them. They came out to Boston for PAX and they hung out for the entire weekend in the booth, doing lots of interviews. They’re just super cool dudes. They even started gaming now because of their involvement with this!
“They’re also really different from people like Tom Savini [who collaborated with IllFonic on Friday the 13th: The Game]. You know, Savini always tries to figure out how to make the most brutal kills imaginable and he tries to make the audience members look away from the screen if he can.
“The Chiodos have a very different [ethos]. They’re masters of their own, far more tongue-in-cheek, style of practical effects. If you look at their work with Critters, Team America or Marcel the Shell, they’re absolutely not going for hardcore ultraviolence. They’re just not gore guys.”
Which is a characterization of the brothers that definitely chimes with their onscreen output. After all, anyone who has seen the PG-13 rated Killer Klowns will attest that it’s pretty tame viewing (even for the most coulrophobic of individuals), sharing more in common with something like Mars Attacks! than it does intense horrors like Stephen King’s It or the Terrifier films. Indeed, it never gets much worse than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it decapitation and its most gruesome moments are generally softened with a tinge of black comedy too (like when the aliens drink blood through an extravagant silly straw!) So, it makes sense that the Chiodos would want the game adaptation to strike a similarly playful tone.
“That was actually the subject of one of my first calls with them,” Gerritzen adds. “We presented them with the original Klownalities and their response was: ‘This is very cool, but it’s all blood.’ They wanted us to rein that in and injected this idea of replacing most of the gory [giblets] with confetti, glitter and bubbles. Because that’s what’s Killer Klowns is! It really changed our way of thinking.
“We realized that we were still in that Friday the 13th and Predator mindset — where gore is a big deal — and that had to shake out of it. I’m so happy that we did that because what we ended up with is far truer to [the spirit of that] original film.”
Based on the short snippet of Killer Klowns from Outer Space that we’ve played thus far, that’s very much our impression too. It’s a game that absolutely understands its heritage, captures its creator’s unique sense of humour, and seems to be quite well-polished to boot. Whether or not it will be the Greatest Show on Earth, it’s still a circus that we can’t wait to experience in full.
Co-developed by Teravision Games and IllFonic, Killer Klowns from Outer Space: The Game will be released on PC, PlayStation 5, and Xbox Series X|S on Thursday the 6th June.
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