‘We came, we saw, we kicked its ass!‘
When writing about a film as beloved as Ghostbusters, it’s difficult not to allow the review to devolve into a list of things that are great about that film. As I’m never one to take the difficult option, here is that list: Harold Ramis’ hair, Dan Aykroyd’s bewildered facial expressions, Ernie Hudson’s incredulousness, everything Bill Murray does, ECTO-1 (and the wonderful sound it makes), Sigourney Weaver’s barely disguised contempt, Rick Moranis doing his best Chaplin impression, Annie Potts’ attitude, the goddamn Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and Slimer. Never forget Slimer…
When a bunch of paranormal activity plagues New York City, four unlikely heroes step up to clean up the mess (and make a quick buck). Or to put it simply. Ghosts appear. Ghostbusters emerge shortly afterwards. It’s beautiful in its simplicity.
It’s been a while since I’ve checked in on Venkman and the rest of the gang. Over a decade. And I’m delighted to say that they have aged valiantly. The effects mostly hold up (and remain charming even when they don’t), the script still feels razor sharp, and most of all, in these turbulent times, it’s just refreshing to see four characters who get out of breath climbing the stairs instead of muscle clad freaks eating nothing but pure protein for six months to get in shape for a role. 80s blockbusters really were better. And while I am once again entering grown man shouting at clouds territory, I think I’m right about this one. Even a broken down old grandfather clock is right twice a day, after all. A movie like this would never get made today. Not on this budget anyway. And boy, is that sad. Luckily, this film is going nowhere. And neither is Gremlins, or Back to the Future, or Stand By Me or The Princess Bride.
Oh… and what a theme song. I ain’t afraid of no ghosts…