Thoughts on movies, comic books, life, and other nonsense, by someone who should know better
Literally, everyone I knew who had seen Netflix’s The Ritual urged me to watch it. Not one person had anything bad to say about it – I was planning on watching it anyway just from catching the trailer, which intrigued me, but mostly because while watching that same trailer, I felt I was seeing a few already familiar movies. I finally got around to viewing it, and it turned out mostly as I expected: good, but far from great, for a number of reasons.
Like everyone around him, Eddie stood looking up at the TV. The mood inside Stornoway Airport was a palpable mix of despair and fear that seeped into the very bones and grew like mold. Even though it was only 4:30pm local time, it had grown dark outside the small terminal, and rain lashed against the windows. Eddie looked around at the passengers who had traveled with him from Glasgow on the short, turbulent flight. A tall man comforted his wife and two small children, three teens with earbuds stared vacantly at up the news reader. The elderly couple who had sat across from him on the plane were locked into a silent debate, pinched mouths making the shapes of words that Eddie couldn’t hear.
AT THE FOOTHILLS OF MADNESS 