Editorials
[Based on the Hit Film] We (Barely) Survive the Highly Unknown ‘Ring/Ringu’ Dreamcast Game
We endure the awful Dreamcast survival horror game that’s based upon ‘The Ring’ series, the perplexing disaster, ‘The Ring: Terror’s Realm’.
“[RING], a killer computer program? It’s silly, but it makes me wonder…”
Sometimes a horror franchise hits such a fever pitch that it’s able to make the transition over to other media, like video games. This isn’t always an easy process and obviously, some titles, such as slashers, lend themselves more to the survival horror video game genre than other films. That being said, this is still a relatively rare experience and even horror’s heaviest hitters haven’t gotten truly worthy video games until very recently. That’s what makes Asmik Ace Entertainment’s Dreamcast title, The Ring: Terror’s Realm, such a fascinating project. Hideo Nakata’s Ringu is absolutely not the title you expect to transition over to video games (unless it maybe crossed over with the Fatal Frame series). That’s not to say that it’s an impossible prospect and “J-horror” could certainly use more representation in video games, but unfortunately, The Ring: Terror’s Realm is one of the absolute worst games to come out for the system.
One of the biggest surprises about this property is that it came out for the Dreamcast in 2000, which means that it actually pre-dates Gore Verbinski’s American The Ring by two years. This title actually draws most of its lore and inspiration from Koji Suzuki’s series of Ring novels, even though it includes footage from the Japanese films. The game came out in Japan a month after the release of Ring 0: Birthday and was surely meant to piggyback off of its publicity, but the decision by Infogrames to localize this title for North America comes as a major surprise. At this point in time, America has no relationship with this franchise, let alone “J-horror” in general. Clearly, Infogrames thought that any survival horror on the system could draw big numbers, especially when Resident Evil Code: VERONICA was so hot, but The Ring: Terror’s Realm is a complete disaster on every level, but it’s at least a bewildering train wreck to work through.
The Ring: Terror’s Realm centers around Meg Rainman, a scientist at the CDC who’s on her mission after the cursed “[RING]” game kills her boyfriend, Robert. Meg quickly learns that he’s not the only one to recently die under these suspicious circumstances. After Meg experiences the [RING] game, the CDC becomes under quarantine, which ostensibly keeps her in there for the whole game as she attempts to solve this mystery before her expiration date is up. It comes as a major shock when Meg boots up [RING] and she’s not greeted with a creepy video, but is instead transported into a Tron-esque world like some Sentai Ranger. It’s a bold turn, one that doesn’t make any sense, and something that feels like it would be much better suited in anything else that’s not a video game based on The Ring.
These segments of the game force Meg to navigate via flashlight through dark corridors. These moments of vulnerability have an admirable look to them and you can tell what they’re going for, but they get bland very quickly and feel like they belong in another title. The monsters themselves look like Neanderthals of some type, and again, nothing that specifically screams Ring. Apparently, Sadako’s powers turn people into monkey monsters this time around, too. These beasts also provide zero challenge, especially when ammo is of no real concern here. Even if a bunch of Sadakos were the generic enemy, they’d still be scarier than the alternative. The game switches back and forth between these two worlds, but a major issue is that this “action horror world” is only marginally more suspenseful than the drab CDC segments. The lighting is the creepiest thing. A little variety in the enemies would also go a long ways, but the game sticks to their manbearpig model.
Subtlety is far from the game’s strong suit and characters will just arbitrarily contact you, but you have no idea or context for who they are. None of this matters because they’re just meant to give you exposition and apparently it’s more entertaining to read this through dialogue from someone named “Jack” than off of a document on a table or something, even though there’s no difference in how the game presents this. This lack of personality is present across the board, which is kind of shocking. Everything just feels like it’s there to help move the plot along, not even to scare the gamer, which would at least make this more tolerable. Terror’s Realm is so void of flavor that you could honestly fall asleep while playing it. It’s easily the worst survival horror title on the Dreamcast (and there are some forgettable ones, like Carrier). Notoriously, the game’s review on GameSpy’s DreamcastPlanet was a 1/10 and the title nearly broke the reviewer.
The Ring: Terror’s Realm actually decides to recap the events of Ringu that go all the way back to 1990 and act as a brief primer on Sadako Yamamura’s tortured life. There are allusions to the novel that inspired the films and even footage from them, but the game still barely connects to the canon. Nevertheless, Terror’s Realm discusses how the infamous Sadako videotape has evolved into a virus, which then worked itself into the [RING] video game. This plot is also much more in line with the novels’ take on Sadako, where she’s not a ghost, but rather her memories are transmitted via the cursed videotape.
The Ring: Terror’s Realm tries to get creative with its premise, but it could provide a better explanation as to why Sadako Yamamura does all of this and why she decides to move to the medium of video games. There are brief hints at answers to these questions, like how the CDC is apparently in possession of Sadako’s body, but then it moves into questionable territory where Sadako’s body is used to make a “vaccine” for her curse. That’s a physical vaccine for a spiritual curse. It doesn’t make any sense. This all builds to the revelation that Sadako has somehow built a virtual world that Meg gets stuck in, but to the game’s credit, The Matrix was pretty new at the time of its release.
Terror’s Realm doesn’t even let you find and watch the infamous cursed videotape until the final third of the game and even then it’s an extremely underwhelming experience. It’s appreciated to get a glimpse of this legendary footage from the original film (there are also snippets of Ring 2, with Sadako’s mother), but it also muddles the game’s message since it’s supposed to be a video game that’s now cursed. That doesn’t mean that footage of the old tape can’t still exist, but it feels pretty gratuitous, unless the idea is that Meg is now double cursed (which makes no sense). It’d be nice if after this point in the game Sadako would at least start following you around, but the gameplay or lack of enemy variety remains the same.
Finally, Meg learns that her trusted boss at the CDC is actually a bad guy and wants Sadako’s powers for himself. It’s also worth addressing that the final boss is Sadako, but you fight her with a katana. As you swing the mighty blade at her, she turns into bats, like Dracula, to evade your attacks because this is The Ring, after all. In the end, a very flimsy explanation is given to all of this where basically Sadako just despises that humans are able to do whatever they want and so all of this is some kind of bitter revenge. She wants all humans to die.
The Ring: Terror’s Realm is narratively a mess, but aesthetically and design-wise it’s not much better. Meg always has some kind of grin plastered on her face, like she’s the victim of the Joker’s nerve toxin. In fact, all of the characters have unintentionally unnerving models. Curiously, the game’s character designer is Katsuya Terada, who’s pretty renowned in both video games and anime for his characters, yet these just don’t click.
Basically, only the game’s introductory cut scene features dialogue and it contains some really abysmal voice acting performances. It almost makes you glad that the rest of the game just features text exchanges and no actual dialogue (which is still exceptionally lazy in a Dreamcast title). Additionally, Terror’s Realm contains a really irritating, lazy muzak-style soundtrack, which is not only not creepy, but it actively breaks the tension in the environment. It also starts over every time you go to the pause screen, which finds a way to make all of this even worse. On this note, the sound effects for the menu are all confusing splat sounds, which is just weird. It’s not that kind of game…
A lot of time in this game is spent aimlessly running around an area until you find the right door that will open to progress things along. This is more trial and error than any informed structure. It’s as if The Ring film never leaves its second act where Naomi Watts’ character is just in research and interview mode. Or do you remember that bit in the film where the item, healing jelly, is used to reduce the threat of Sadako? Of course not! This is all also just a very repetitive, fetch-y kind of survival horror title that’s more errands and unlocking drawers than scares and enemies. This slog should last you between six and seven hours, but it feels like there’s 45 minutes worth of content here.
There’s a very rudimentary combat in system in place that feels clunkier than the one present in the first Silent Hill. One the other hand, the title offers a surprising amount of freedom with its camera angles and it allows fixed camera angles, ones that follow you, or go the first- and third-person route. It’s just a shame the game isn’t good enough to actually make fun use of these options. It’s almost like it was added to make up for the fact that other areas in the game are lacking.
It’s painful to see how The Ring: Terror’s Realm intentionally apes Resident Evil in so many ways, like the limited inventory (which looks identical), but manages to make every case even less user-friendly. There are even item crates and freaking door-opening animations for scene transitions! You practically expect to save on a typewriter. Also, The Ring translates to some kind of detective story, not a horror-action title like Resident Evil. A survival horror game based on the Ring series could be great, but this goes completely in the wrong direction and squanders the property. It’s not surprising to learn that the game’s director, Atsushi Suzuki, has no other directing credits to his name and barely any other experience in the video game industry.
The Ring: Terror’s Realm desperately wants to be a Ring game, but then why make its connections to the source material so tangential? This could have just been titled Terror’s Realm and been its own thing to zero consequence. I mean, there are gas leak booby traps in this game that you have to figure out like you’re in Indiana Jones. It’s yet another element that feels completely foreign to The Ring series. On top of this, the title is filled with inner-office politics, a hair growth serum and smallpox scare, and a bunch of weird patients that are holed away in the basement of the CDC that never amounts to anything more than dull padding.
Besides a Wonderswan Color visual novel title and some digital patchislot games that are only available in Japan, no other video games have attempted to tackle The Ring, which sadly means that Terror’s Realm is the best and only adaptation available. The frustrating thing here is that I do like the idea that a video game adaptation of The Ring would turn the infamous videotape into a video game. There are some really clever things that could be done with that premise and a survival horror game could truly tap into the psychological horror aspect of this dilemma where the player is just as concerned about this ticking clock element as the game’s protagonist. A survival horror game based on the Ring series could be great, but The Ring: Terror’s Realm goes completely in the wrong direction and squanders the property. If the team behind Eternal Darkness had taken a swing at this for example, perhaps this could have been really special. As it stands, this remains an interesting survival horror relic because of how much of a misfire it is, but just barely. It also likely killed any chances of a Ju-on/The Grudge video game going into production any time soon (although a Ju-on “Haunted House Simulator” would unfathomably come out for the Wii in 2009).
With how far horror video games and licensed properties have come since the year 2000, maybe The Ring will one day get a proper video game adaptation. Whatever’s made couldn’t be any worse than this. Who knows, maybe a Sadako Yamamura skin for Dead by Daylight’s The Spirit character is in the cards? Or at least Meg Rainman will get added to the list of playable survivors.
Five decades ago, Stephen King published the story of a bullied girl with telekinetic powers and forever changed the world of horror.
Carrie follows a high school misfit who seeks revenge for a hideous prank by psychically destroying her senior prom. The name Carrie White has become synonymous with the concept of a formal dance thanks to a flawless adaptation from Brian De Palma. Now fifty years after the film’s release, Mike Flanagan is putting his own stamp on the troubling story.
Rather than a feature film, the writer/director will expand King’s relatively slim debut novel into an eight-episode miniseries for Amazon Prime set to premiere on October 7.
Flanagan is no stranger to the world of Stephen King. A long-time Constant Reader, he first made waves with his daring adaptation of Gerald’s Game (2017), a novel many fans considered un-filmable. His underrated Doctor Sleep merges the disparate plot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining with King’s original source material, and his 2024 genre-bending tearjerker The Life of Chuck faithfully executes one of the author’s most metaphysical novellas.
He’s currently mired in pre-production for an expansive adaptation of The Dark Tower series, keystone to King’s connected universe, and Warner Bros. recently announced that Flanagan will helm a new version of The Mist, King’s 1980 novella which sees a small Maine town overrun by otherworldly monsters.
Considering the vast array of the author’s previously unadapted material, an obvious question arises. Why reimagine Carrie in 2026? Noting the timeless nature of the content, Flanagan expressed his desire to bring the story of a bullied girl into modern times, mirroring his approach to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. He explained, “The only way to approach it was to build something new out of the ingredients of Carrie. Otherwise, there’s really no purpose in trying to retread ground that’s been so beautifully walked before.”
His miniseries will maintain the novel’s bloody bookends while delivering “big surprises” along the way.
A New Prom Night Nightmare
The roughly 60-second teaser introduces Summer H. Howell as Carrie White just before the moment of catastrophe. Standing in a prom dress, she smiles at her applauding classmates with an ominous crown perched upon her head. Moments later, Carrie unleashes a rage-filled scream into the night air while promgoers rush for the exit doors. But careful examination of this scene shows Carrie wearing a different, albeit dirty dress as she seems to telekinetically punish her peers.
In an exclusive first look with Entertainment Weekly, Flanagan explains that in his version of the story, “the events of that prom are going to be completely different.” An open trunk emitting a crimson glow does hint at the pig’s blood dumped on Carrie’s head, but it’s likely Flanagan’s formal dance will be a different kind of horror altogether. Despite these changes, the series may end with the widespread destruction outlined in the source material. Unlike any previous adaptations, King’s novel ends with the near-total destruction of Chamberlain, Maine. A flaming street in Flanagan’s trailer promises similar carnage no matter what prank sparks Carrie’s deadly revenge.
The Monstrous Addition of Social Media
On the opposite end of this fiery conclusion is an extreme act of bullying that brings together the story’s main cast. King’s novel begins as Carrie gets her first period while showering in the girls’ locker room. Completely unaware of the concept of menstruation, the sheltered girl thinks she’s bleeding to death. Her classmates respond with vitriolic rage. Led by ultra-mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton), they mock the terrified teen while pelting her with tampons. Glimpses of this disturbing event reveal that Flanagan has excised the scene’s nudity while adding a seismic update. As Carrie sobs in the shower stall, Chris and her friends film the breakdown with their phones.
Other scenes note the presence of social media, bringing King’s fifty-year-old story into the digital age.
Flanagan’s adaptation promises to explore the destructive power of social media, an often invisible entity with a potential for harm rivaling Carrie’s own powers. While King’s tormented heroine suffers in front of a small group of girls, Flanagan’s version of the incident will likely become a viral video, potentially circling the globe on social media. Similar to Katt Shea’s criminally underrated The Rage: Carrie 2, which includes elements of revenge porn exploitation, Flanagan’s modern retelling will distinguish itself by exploring the nebulous cruelty of online bullying, a force ten times more powerful than the irl pranks King first envisioned.
A Completely Reimagined White Family
In addition to modernizing these canon events, Flanagan hints at updates to Carrie’s oppressive upbringing at the hands of her mother, Margaret White (Samantha Sloyan). Dead before the novel begins, we never meet Carrie’s domineering father Ralph, known to carry a bible alongside his gun. Flanagan’s White household will be an altogether different beast. In his version of the story, Carrie and her mother have been hidden away in the unassuming home, forced out of hiding by Ralph’s unexpected death. Perhaps we will finally meet this elusive man whose shadow hangs over his wife and child. Considering the White family’s fundamentalist lifestyle, this reimagining hints at tradwife culture and a home ruled by staunch patriarchal control.
Whereas King’s Carrie has been tormented by her classmates since Kindergarten, Flanagan’s Carrie will be a wide-eyed newcomer to public school, eager to make friends and engage with her peers. We glimpse Carrie cozying up to Chris and the equally popular Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) as she navigates a new social scene. Of course, we know this kindness is part of an elaborate plot designed to lull Carrie into a false sense of camaraderie, setting up an atrocious act of public humiliation. These brief moments of feigned compassion put Sue’s own complicity into question. Will Flanagan’s version of the character find the courage to defend Carrie from vicious bullies or will she succumb to peer pressure and join in the mob mentality?
Perhaps the biggest deviation from King’s original text is the relationship between Carrie and her mother. King’s Margaret White is a horrifically abusive religious zealot whose worldview has been hardened by internalized misogyny. She shames Carrie for menstruating, locks her in a closet to “pray,” and regrets not killing her child in infancy. She’s also responsible for Carrie’s social ostracization. Known to berate her neighbors for their “sins,” Margaret forces her daughter to live by an extreme code of conduct and disallows any potential friends lest they corrupt the girl with their worldly ways.
Flanagan’s version of the character is perhaps just as much a victim as Carrie herself. Also trapped inside her home, his Margaret is overly vigilant, her own trauma manifesting as strict control. Describing a more sympathetic depiction of the iconic villain, Flanagan explains, “Our Margaret White is a woman who fiercely loves her daughter and wants to protect her from this world … [She] doesn’t know how to do that and thinks the way to protect her is to close her off; not punitively, but to create this private utopia.”
Despite this potential softening, Sloyan’s Margaret may still have a sharp edge. Though she has appeared in many Flanagan projects, from Hush (2016) to The Fall of the House of Usher (2023), she is best known for her role as the abhorrent Bev Keane in the poignant saga Midnight Mass (2021). Perhaps inspired by King’s Margaret White, Bev is pious and sadistic, willing to punish anyone who does not adhere to her warped approximation of Catholicism.
Flanagan specifically wrote Margaret with Sloyan in mind, likely remembering the actress’s eerie ability to create deceptive empathy and shift our allegiances on a dime.
Expanding Stephen King’s Telekinetic Universe
While most of King’s story deals with an unthinkable prom night in Chamberlain, Maine, large sections of the semi-epistolary novel see experts debating the nature of telekinesis. Do Carrie’s frightening abilities represent a new phase in human evolution or is the prom night carnage merely a fluke? King settles the debate with a shocking denouement in which a young mother recounts her infant daughter’s ability to dangle her crib toys in midair. We’re left to wonder if she will become another tormented girl who surprises the world with metaphysical strength.
Flanagan plans to build out this brief scene while amplifying themes of female empowerment. After introducing our main cast of characters, episode two will open with an unrelated story in which we meet another girl with the TK gene. Each subsequent chapter will expand this world, building out a roster of telekinetic young women. Considering King’s fondness for stories about powerful kids, often described as possessing “the shining,” Constant Readers will no doubt have their eyes peeled for various Easter Eggs nodding to the author’s vast catalogue.
Giving Carrie Her Own Voice
Perhaps the most striking distinction in Flanagan’s new trailer is the extent to which we hear Carrie’s voice. The sneak peek is fully narrated by the titular prom queen as she demands accountability. “I want to know why,” she explains while detailing Chris’ elaborate plan. Aside from the aforementioned coda, King’s book essentially ends with the aftermath of the prom night tragedy, leaving little time for Carrie to reflect. His shifting narrative does bring the reader into her fragile mind, though not before she’s been cowed by relentless cruelty. We watch Carrie sink into bloodthirsty revenge, but never hear a considered desire for justice or repair.
Flanagan’s original monologue allows Carrie to voice her pain and mourn the life she could have had. We’re also treated to a mug shot-style photo of Chris with a bruised and bandaged face, implying that the mean girl will have to answer for her senseless sadism.
Flanagan is known for filling his series adaptations with heartwrenching speeches that cut to the heart of his thematic intentions, and this teaser seems to follow suit. After years of fans, critics, and scholars analyzing Carrie’s pain, perhaps his modern retelling will offer the titular anti-hero a chance to finally speak for herself.
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