To this day, my favorite Steven Spielberg movie is Hook. Released in 1991, Hook's story is founded on an enticing premise: What if Peter Pan grew up and — and — what if he was forced to return to Neverland? It stars Robin Williams as Peter Pan, a grown-up family man whose obsession with his work keeps him from spending time with his children. Hook also stars Dustin Hoffman as Captain James Hook as Bob Hoskins as Hook's right-hand (right-hook?) man Smee; both actors deliver the kind of deliriously zippy performances that are needed to breathe life into a movie of this magnitude. Over the course of two-plus hours, we are thrust into a magnificently-rendered vision of Neverland, where Peter must reconnect with his inner child — with a little help from The Lost Boys and Tinker Bell (Julia Roberts) — in order to save his children, who have been stolen away from him by Hook.

As as kid, I just about destroyed my precious VHS copy of Hook because it was one of my favorites to rewatch. In fact, I'd say it was one of the first movies that became a comfort-watch for me before I had any idea what that word meant. Who wouldn't want to fly away to Neverland and have a great adventure? What could be more fun than having a food fight with The Lost Boys? Why not spend an afternoon irreverently smashing clocks of all shapes and sizes with Hook and Smee? Hook invites us to indulge in the wondrous fantasies that could only be conjured up by children. So, when Hook arrived on Netflix earlier this month, I was beyond thrilled to revisit it.

And then I remembered the "boo box" scene. It's one of the most harrowing scenes I watched as a child. It's a scene that always registered as screwy and left a pit in my stomach. An object meant serve as a symbol of Hook's total power and terrible mean streak, the boo box lives in infamy for me — and plenty of other Millennials, I wager.

A dark, cramped chest only whipped out for the most yellow-bellied of pirates, the boo box is the kind of punishment that gets burned into your impressionable child brain if you, like me, watched Hook as an elementary school-sized human. As a kid, generally speaking, one of the last things you want to spend your time wrapping your head around is the idea that adults can get scared. Another would be the idea that humans can inflict pain on others. The "boo box" scene not only introduces you to these ideas but also makes damn sure you have a visual example of the kinds of horrors the term "boo box" implies. To this day, no words have haunted me quite like the words "boo" and "box" when placed side-by-side.

Now, disturbing and weird things happen in Hook, I'll grant you that. Does it completely make sense that Hook is somehow magically defeated because he's swallowed into a two-story crocodile that doesn't appear to be sentient for most of the movie? No! Is it a leap to suggest that an infant Peter Pan grew up but stopped aging at 14 or 15 years in Neverland, a place where you never grow up? Yeah! Should we be questioning the speed and efficiency at which all of the pirates learn the game of baseball? Absolutely.

But there is nothing quite so scary as the boo box, which is whipped out toward the end of the first act. Part of adult Peter's introduction to the rules of Hook's portion of Neverland, where pirates reign supreme, is to witness a gathering of said pirates as they assemble for what I can only describe as their daily morning check-in as a team. Peter is still disoriented from his long journey, but partly out of survival and partly in an effort to get the lay of the land, he has donned some pirate clothes to blend in and followed the pirate horde as they parade to the Jolly Roger to give Hook the namesake replacement for his hand.

After some morning announcements from their dear boss, the pirates are confronted with an allegation that one man in their crew did not believe Hook could actually steal away Peter Pan's children. Because Hook is a vindictive, shady king with a penchant for theatricality, he decides to publicly punish this one person who claimed he couldn't do what he succeeded in doing. In a bid to re-establish his power as a leader, Hook makes his way down from the deck overlooking the Jolly Roger and wades into the crowd, all the while pointing out the naysayer. As the crowd parts, Hook stops in front of a pirate merely credited as "Gutless" (you might know him better as frequent Oscar nominee Glenn Close) and Peter, eventually landing on Gutless.

A swift judgment condemns Gutless to the boo box, which completely terrifies him and delights the rest of the crew. Part of what makes this so scary is that we see Gutless's reaction to the idea of the boo box before we see the actual box or understand what it could be used for. In a movie that is rated PG and, by and large, intended to be seen and enjoyed by children, hearing the words "boo box" and then being forced to let your thoughts race until the box is revealed is a lot. And then, when we finally see what it is — a wooden chest Gutless is crammed into before it is padlocked and scorpions are dropped in as other pirates taunt him — your heart just about leaps out of your chest.

So, while the concept of the boo box is completely terrifying, there is one element of this scene which makes it a triumph: Glenn Close. It's hard to find reporting on how exactly Close's cameo happened; hers is one of several cameos in Hook, including David Crosby, Phil Collins, George Lucas, and Carrie Fisher. It's hard to appreciate Close's transformation into Gutless as a kid, but watching it today gives you a whole new appreciation for her talents. One of the earliest transformations in her career gives way to Close having some fun as a nameless pirate getting stuffed into a wooden box. She goes way over the top as Gutless, bawling and squirming and screaming her way into the scorpion-filled oblivion, making this scene all the more memorable as it goes along.

We never see how far the scorpions-in-the-boo-box torture goes or how Gutless fares throughout his punishment for being a Doubting Thomas. Hook lets us fill in the gaps for ourselves, which makes this one of the more adult, scary, potentially-nightmare inducing moments for its intended audience. Sure, the impact of the scene fades over time as viewers get older and we're faced with real-world horrors that make the boo box seem like a walk in the park. But having that vision of claustrophobic terror sticks with you.

Hook is now available to stream on Netflix. For more, check out our recommendations for the best new movie arrivals on Netflix you should watch today.