The Ring, one of Alfred Hitchcock's better silent dramas, is a good story told beautifully. Title cards are kept to a minimum; facial expressions and gestures and clever cinematic touches are used where a lesser director would have relied on words. The story is about two boxers who fall in love with the same woman, but the film feels less like a reworking of this familiar formula (as in Hitchcock's own The Manxman, though I liked that movie too) than the specific story of these characters. That's probably because the movie does such a good job conveying the specific psychological states of the main characters: It understands well how paranoia and jealousy can take over when an infatuation is threatened.