Unlike the gore-heavy Western slashers of its time, Ringu builds horror through the .
The image was grainy, unstable. There was no sound, only a low, throbbing hum that seemed to vibrate behind the eyes. A montage of surreal imagery flickered past: a woman brushing her hair in a mirror that didn't reflect the room; kanji characters scrolling like screaming mouths; a man with a towel over his head pointing toward something off-screen. Unlike the gore-heavy Western slashers of its time,
He looked back at the TV screen. In the dark reflection, the girl was crawling out of the well. But this time, she wasn't on the tape. She was in the reflection of his own living room. She reached the edge of the screen, her hands pressing against the inside of the glass, distorting the pixels, the barrier between the two worlds bending like plastic wrap. A montage of surreal imagery flickered past: a
RING.
