How is it possible to be scared of a moth? Sure, you might get frightened if you find a colony in your sweater drawer, but there’s not much else eerie about them. They dive into lights. Their color scheme is somewhat drab, and they are excellent snacks for my bored cat. So when I went to the video store last week, I noticed a new rental entitled “The Mothman Prophecies.” The genre under the marquee said “horror.”

I snorted to myself and pondered how a generic butterfly could scare big old me. Maybe the “BeeMan Prophecies” or perhaps the “Dung Beetle Prophecies.” But a moth? Then I noticed Richard Gere starred in it. That really got the guffaws going. I envisioned seeing Mr. Gere go off in one of his sensitive narcissistic verbal tirades with an overgrown moth. Maybe he would even show the giant insect proper ways to release supernatural anger through meditation.

Strange how you become attracted to things you make fun of. As much joy as I had roasting the video box, my hand wouldn’t let go. I was still shaking my head in disbelief when I got in my car with the recently rented tape. I still had a crook of a smartass grin when I put the tape in the player. The grin dissipated within a matter of minutes. By the end of the movie, I felt like something cold had been buried under my skin. Sleep was fitful. Although I’ll probably make fun of Richard Gere again, the Mothman is free of my ridicule.

“The Mothman Prophecies” is based on a 1975 book by John Keel, who investigated the Mothman in Point Pleasant, West Virginia in 1966 and 1967. Over a 100 residents reported a giant moth creature in the area. Some reported mere sightings, while others stated that the winged man actually told them of future disastrous events. The biggest warning was the collapse of the Silver Bridge in 1967, which connected West Virginia to Ohio. Days after the Mothman disappeared, the bridge collapsed, killing 46 people.

These harbinger sightings weren’t restricted to West Viginia. There were reports of sightings in 1985 in Mexico City just before that year’s devastating earthquake, and in Chernobyl in 1986 before the nuclear meltdown. Popular culture has taken a vested interest in the fluttering fellow. There are a plethora of Web sites about Mothman lore, Mothman comic books, trading cards, and there’s even a Mothman rock album (now that’s scary).

And now there’s the movie. The flick proudly states that it’s based on a true story. The truth resides in the fact that Keel investigated Point Pleasant. Everything else has a tinge of Hollywood fabrication. For one, it’s set in present day, and John Keel is now John Klein (Richard Gere), star-studded reporter for the Washington Post. Furthermore, there’s no mention of Keel having a wife who saw the Mothman right before she died. Also, the real Keel got to Point Pleasant on his own recognizance, the fictional Klein is somehow warped there.

Confused? Let me start at the beginning. John and Mary Klein (Debra Messing from “Will and Grace”) are recently married and nauseatingly happy. They have just bought a new home (which they consecrated with a little nooky in the bare closet), and are going back to the old domicile to celebrate. Mary is driving along when all of the sudden she sees a pair of red lights that draw closer. Her last vision before wrecking is a giant moth that seems to fly into her soul. Darkened by that experience, Mary falls into a catatonic state. Doctors soon find a malignant tumor that had been a tenant in Mary for some time.

Before she dies, she tries to tell John about the Mothman.

“You didn’t see it, did you,” she mewls to her husband right before she dies. Devastated, John finds some sketches his dead wife did. Each one is a crude (but disturbing drawing) of a giant moth with foreboding eyes. By this point my skin had succumbed to a clammy state. A couple of years have gone by, and John has slowly pieced his life back together. He has a big assignment in Richmond, interviewing the state governor.

Driving alone at night, John’s car decides to quit working on a deserted rural road. John notices a farmhouse in the distance and goes to the door looking for help. A wild-eyed man opens the door, with a pointed shotgun for greeting purposes. The man’s name is Gordon (Will Patton), and he claims that this is the third consecutive night that Klein has come to his door. Before our protagonist gets a diet of buckshot, local sheriff Connie Parker (Laura Linney) shows up on the scene to intervene.

By the time the dust settles, John learns of the uncanny events that seems to be plaguing every resident. He also learns that he’s in Point Pleasant, his car somehow warping 400 miles in an hour. Somehow this dabbling in time continuum doesn’t bother Klein. It’s the fact that a lot of the Point Pleasant residents are seeing the same creature that his wife did. Ignoring his deadline in Richmond, John decides to stay on and investigate the phenomenon. I sure wish he hadn’t.

As John delves more into the disturbances, the more reality begins to unravel. He begins getting phone calls from a voice that seems wired by electricity. His new friend Gordon is visited by a creature that claims to know the future. Phones ring that have no wire connection, dead relatives are seen, and sightings crop up faster than mosquitoes in a bog.

Ever the logician, John tries to find an explanation for the whole thing. The more he tries to make a linear conclusion, the more the Mothman shows that our world is only a surface for the dark things that creep beneath. The scary thing about the “Mothman Prophecies” is what it doesn’t show. There are a few visuals of the winged being, but there’s never a full on shot. The voices and supernatural suggestions made me squirm.

Like the Blair Witch, it’s what you don’t see that will make you pine for a night light. Director Mark Pellington does a good job of creating a sense of dread with eerie montages and mood lighting. It manifests confusion, which in turn generates a sense of creepiness that feels like icicles tap dancing on your skin.

Sheepishly, I returned the movie the next day with a heightened sense of respect. The rueful grin has disappeared, and my cat is now brought in before it gets dark outside (silly, perhaps, but little moths could tell the big moth that they’re getting eaten).

At least I can still make fun of Richard Gere.