Answer The Call

Absolutely brilliant! It took over thirty years and an extremely disappointing reboot, but we, the viewers have finally gotten our prodigal scion from the Ghostbusters franchise with the third chapter, Ghostbusters: Afterlife!

Helmed by Jason Reitman (Juno, Young Adult), noted son of original director Ivan, we pick up as time left off. Egon Spengler (the late, great Harold Ramis) has died, and his estranged daughter (Carrie Coon, “Fargo”), down on her luck and evicted from her home, takes her children, Trevor (Finn Wolfhard, “Stranger Things”) and Phoebe (Mckenna Grace, Annabelle Comes Home) to her reluctant inheritance — Egon’s old digs (and mountains of debt) in a backward town in Oklahoma… but there is more. Old haunts begin to resurrect; alliances once worn thin are retied, and the adventure of a lifetime, cliché though it is, will come to life… after death!

Let’s get this out of the way — this is a fantastic movie! Too often a long-awaited sequel is smothered by the familiarity of nostalgia, be it as far apart as Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens or even as short a wait as it took for The Mummy Returns, but in the case of Ghostbusters, we are given beats and references that are familiar, and yet, the paths taken are ever so different that it feels fresh, not stale. Expect the unexpected is the order of the day with this movie, and while that may stir fears of those who saw the reboot and left with a bad taste in their mouth (as I did), fear not — Reitman and his co-writer, Gil Kenan (Monster House) treats this film and franchise with the same reverence and respect that was given to films like Christopher Robin! It’s bizarrely one of the most heartwarming films of the year!

Further, whereas the reboot was drowning in poor acting (comedic and otherwise) and lousy visual effects, we are treated to excellent examples of both cases. I was surprised by the latter, as Reitman has never done a franchise blockbuster, or indeed, a blockbuster at all, but he is under the guiding hands of his father, and one could argue that his directing the (abysmal) visual effects-heavy Men, Women & Children only played in his favor! The ghosts in the film are genuinely scary and never once does this exude Robert Zemeckis-grade fakery. The acting is equally terrific, with excellent turns from Wolfhard and Grace, both breaking the norm of boring to cloying child actors and most endearing without being suffocating. Ms. Coon, previously known to many as Proxima Midnight (daughter to Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War), portrays the despair of single motherhood and parental estrangement with great skill, and when the time comes, brings the kindness and the scary sauce in equal measure. Also appearing is Paul Rudd (Ant-Man and the Wasp) as nerdy summer school teacher Mr. Grooberson, who brings his usual affability and kindly charm to the world of ghosts, but the real scene-stealing MVP is Logan Kim, in his debut movie, as a classmate of Phoebe’s known as Podcast. Unfazed by the events unfolding with some of the best jokes in the film, he’s a welcome addition to the fold!

Again, you have nothing to fear with this film — Ghostbusters: Afterlife is a sweet, loving third chapter in a long-cherished franchise that is every bit as great as the original films — dipping its toes into nostalgia without soaking its entire self in it, while still not betraying the (…heh-heh!) ghosts of its past. Jason Reitman has opened the door to a new chapter in his career as well, and I look forward to what becomes of that, in addition to this film!

“The franchise rights alone will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams!”

Peter Venkman (Bill Murray), “Ghostbusters” [1984]

Dial Tone

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Seriously, what’s the final title?

I am seriously at complete odds with what I just saw-who in their right mind okayed the script for this new version of Ghostbusters? Before saying anything further, I am a feminist and this movie is like a flat, heated bottle of Diet Coke that has gone out of date by about five years. Let the idea of that simmer on your tongue for a second or twelve. It isn’t appetizing, is it?

The all-lady cast of Ghostbusters (or is it Ghostbusters: Answer The Call? Set the title straight, Sony!) is not the problem with this reboot, either in decision or performance. Rather, I reiterate, it is the lousy script, whose writers seem wholly uninterested with making a feminist blockbuster, or making a good movie at all, and instead focus on laying groundwork for a sequel and spinoffs.

It starts out innocently enough — Columbia University professor Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig, The Martian) is dragged back into a past she’d rather forget when a book she co-wrote on the paranormal resurfaces online, thanks to her estranged childhood friend, Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy, Bridesmaids). Tracking her down leads her to a haunted house nearby, where a spontaneous experiment conducted by Abby leads to the both of them stumbling upon the discovery of a malevolent ghost. Caught on camera professing her findings, one thing leads to another, and Erin is fired days short of receiving tenure, and more or less forced to join forces, as it were, with her girlhood chum and her partner in scientific experimentation, Jillian Holtzmann (Kate McKinnon, Saturday Night Live). Together, and with new recruit Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones, The Company We Keep), they set out to rid New York City of a rising threat.

It sounds better than it actually is — this is boring. So damn boring, and boy, does it show. While the new ladies in the jumpsuits are damn good with this lousy script (particularly Ms. McKinnon, a knockout!), Chris Hemsworth (Thor), as the receptionist, is as dead as a doornail/knob/knocker. He reads every single line in the style of the lead in a middle school play. Between this and the reboot of Vacation, he should never do a dedicated comedy again — his taste is ass. Renowned English actor Charles Dance (Game of Thrones) is in two scenes in the opening and is gone for the rest of the picture — why cast an actor of his caliber if you won’t use him to his fullest? The same applies to actors Michael Kenneth Williams (RoboCop) and Andy Garcia (The Ocean’s Eleven Trilogy), both in dry, one note roles. Even though no one made them take these blasé parts, why couldn’t they have been better utilized? The kingpin insult committed by this film is the use of the original Ghostbusters actors (sans Harold Ramis, God rest his soul) in pathetic wink-and-nod cameos. Bill Murray’s is the best-written of the bunch, but that’s not saying much, while Sigourney Weaver’s is insultingly relegated to the end credits scenes. So much for a feminist blockbuster.

Further, the script – it’s as if Sony got pitched an all-female Ghostbusters and gave writers Kate Dippold and Paul Feig (the latter of whom is also the director) final cut and no script doctor. Riddled with a bland villain, broken PG-13 sexual epithets and lousy gender and ethnicity jokes, this film offends more than it inspires, and its ending is the worst finale to a summer movie since Spider-Man 3Almost as bad as the script are the visual effects. While other films make you believe in ghosts, this film gives you no reason to — Slimer and his ghoulish crew look like they belong in a PlayStation 2 full-motion video cutscene. These paltry effects are utter hogwash, and while I didn’t see the film in the director’s intended format of IMAX 3D, I shouldn’t have to shell out extra cash just to get a better experience, not that an added dimension could save this film.

The final insult is that Sony intends to make a shared universe of Ghostbusters films, as evidenced well before its post-credits scene by a logo for a subsidiary company they’ve set up – “Ghost Corps, A Columbia Pictures Company.” Really, Sony? Filching the multi-film universe shtick is pathetic in and of itself, but to do so with Ghostbusters signifies the first of many nails in the proverbial coffin.

Under the circumstances, the crew behind this Ghostbusters had a lot to work under — salvaging what could have been Ghostbusters III, balancing the expectations of new fans with the disappointment/rampant sexism of old fans and filling the pocketbooks of studio suits, but the fact is that they weren’t forced to make this film and, in the end, it still sucks. It isn’t one of the worst films I’ve seen, but it is, hand to heart, the biggest disappointment of the year.

Rating: 1/5