Ghostbusters ☕ d. Paul Feig, 2016

A modest prediction: like the original, 2016’s Ghostbusters will age well. Everyone knows that there are many New York Cities. There’s the real, actual NYC. There’s the NYC that each New Yorker lives in his or her own little world. Tourists, of course, have their own NYC. Then there’s the New York we see in movies: the violent dystopia, the romantic urbs bucolica, yesteryear’s city of tomorrow, etc. To paraphrase Whitman, it contains multitudes. The best movies set in New York City can only be set in New York City. Woody Allen doesn’t film, for the most part, in Boston, and despite what the Academy says, I don’t think it was such a hot idea for Martin Scorsese, either. By the same token, it’s impossible to think of the Ackroyd/Ramis/Reitman version of Ghostbusters taking place in Chicago, L. A., or New Orleans. “Let’s show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown.” Right? It’s gotta be set in New York, or it doesn’t quite work.

Or maybe it’s just that NYC as a milieu works so well as a catalyst for galvanizing types of humor honed elsewhere. After all, the original Ghostbusters cast was a mix of Canadians and Midwesterners, all connected with Second City and/or Saturday Night Live. The discipline of comedy tours and weekly television are rather like classical training for American comedians, who must adapt their routines and sketches to the demands of one of the most diverse audiences in the world. Live comedy demands an often tricky mix of topicality and timelessness—great jokes have to plugged into the here and now, but you can’t assume that everybody in the audiences is as plugged in as they should be. Film comedy is a different kind of tricky. Again, sharp humor always feels contemporary—but sharp humor always feels contemporary. The characters of Manhattan are as pathetic and funny in 2016 as they were in 1979; Peter Venkman’s narcissistic assholery and Ray Stanz’s blue collar geekery translated across state lines in 1984 as well as they translate across the three decades since they first appeared.

There’s little topical humor specific to 2016 in the new Ghostbusters, few allusions outside the franchise. Characters reference classic films like The Exorcist, but only to elements already deeply soaked into the pop culture consciousness. For instance, Andy Garcia plays the mayor of New York (because of course he does), and he deeply resents Kristin Wiig’s desperate scientist begging him not to be like the mayor from Jaws. Melissa McCarthy spends the whole film trying to get a decent bucket of wanton soup from her favorite Chinese restaurant—a running gag that works even better because only in (movie) New York City would someone stubbornly keep ordering the same disappointing soup from the same take-out joint and berate the delivery driver for it. Instead of “We’re ready to believe you!” or “Who you gonna call?,” the first slogan these Ghostbusters come up with is, “If you see something, say something,” only realizing after the flyers are already printed that someone is already using that one. In fact, that might be the most specifically New York joke of the film, and its topicality is restricted only in the sense that you have to know that the film takes place post-9/11.

In fact, that reference is probably the single strongest signal of the film’s temporal setting. There’s one instance of a smartphone video uploaded to YouTube costing a character a job, but apart from that, there’s little reference to the latest communication technologies, which probably comprise the single most conspicuous trait of our historical period. The (fictional, s’far’s I can tell) Mercado Hotel replaces 44 Central Part West as the site of the the climactic battle, and its art deco lobby is vintage (movie) New York City: it’s exactly the kind of perfectly preserved building you would expect to sit atop ancient ley lines, in addition to being an architectural expression of yesteryear’s cutting edge. It’s nebulously nostalgic, and while art deco might look simply dated elsewhere, it feels strangely a part of contemporary life in (movie) New York.

The Mercado Hotel climax is symbolic of what’s great about the film as well as what’s not so great. While it evokes that wonderful movie-NYC contemporary-nostalgia, it also evokes some of the most memorable scenes from the original Ghostbusters. Unfortunately, 2016’s Ghostbusters does entirely too much of that, and not cleverly enough. One callback that works well is the way this film brings in the classic logo, here spray-painted into a subway as a bit of mockery by a graffito. Another classy nod is the bronze bust of Harold Ramis glimpsed early in the film, gracing the hallowed halls of Columbia University. Cameos by other original cast members range from nice to outright distracting. Annie Potts essentially plays Janine, except here she’s the desk clerk in the Mercado. It works in part because her shtick is still funny, and because it’s a brief beat in the narrative flow. The single worst cameo is, unsurprisingly, Bill Murray’s. It’s not so much Murray’s performance as a paranormal debunker that clunks, but the fact that the film builds an entire sequence around him. While I think Paul Feig and Katie Dippold wanted him to be this version’s Walter Peck, it doesn’t really work out that way. For one, his cameo is too brief and poorly structured into the narrative to serve the catastrophic purpose of Peck in the original. For another, even if Murray’s performance is fine, he’s just too much Murray. Maybe other fans of the original will really dig him here. For me, the entire sequence screamed, “OMG you guys we got Murray for a day we gotta DO STUFF WITH HIM!!”

There’s really no way Feig et al. could win. Remaking a beloved film like Ghostbusters entails its own challenges that have little to do with the mechanics of storytelling and everything to do with fan service. Apart from the clunkiness of Murray’s extended cameo, he shows up at almost exactly the wrong time, a little more or less than halfway through the film. Until his appearance, the film had done deft work in metatextual commentary, sprinkling allusions to the earlier films into its original material in ways that were pleasing without interrupting the flow. In fact, the first 45 minutes or so of 2016’s Ghostbusters is borderline magnificent. It sets up a distinct cast, a different kind of villain, and it does all this with the workmanlike professionalism that makes for durable Hollywood cinema. The thematic arc is even distinct from the original. Ivan Reitman’s Ghostbusters were underdogs who got to prove their worth to a city famed for its facility with dream-crushing, and Peter Venkman learns to be a little less of a selfish asshole. Feig’s Ghostbusters are still underdogs who get to prove themselves, but this movie is really about what a difference friendship makes to said underdogs. The difference between the good guys and the bad guy here is that human connection. In a culture that frankly still often celebrates bullies and narcissists, the outcasts who save the city in the new film are honored for their personal strengths in ways that are subtext (if that) in the original Ghostbusters.

The cast makes that work. And as someone who is a big unplugged from pop culture, this was my first time really seeing Wiig, Kate McKinnon, and Leslie Jones as performers. SNL fans know them, but I don’t think I’ve watched SNL since about 2001 or 2002. They are simply terrific, as is McCarthy, whom I know going back to Gilmore Girls. The dialogue in this movie is good, and the special effects are okay; this is a movie you kind of have to see for the actors, though. Besides the great chemistry shared by the principle leads, they also spark with pretty much everyone else who shows up. I recognized Charles Dance, Ed Begley, Jr., Matt Walsh, Michael K. Williams, and Michael McDonald, of course; Cecily Strong, Neil Casey, and Steve Higgins are (apparently) SNL alumni as well. This isn’t quite an Ocean’s Eleven-level Who’s Who, but there are no wasted scenes with any of these performers. It’s all good stuff. Oh, and, yeah—Chris Hemsworth: delightful.

I’m interested to see how this movie plays over the long haul. Unlike a lot of my contemporaries, I didn’t see 1984’s Ghostbusters (or its sequel) until I was in my teens. So the nostalgia factor is a bit blunted, but I have watched the first film at least a dozen times. It’s impossible for me to watch 2016’s Ghostbusters and not be at least a little distracted by all the callbacks and cameos. Will younger audiences, those less attached to the original movies, feel the same way? What about viewers my age or older, who simply enjoy the cameos for what they are? I don’t typically see the point in doing a remake/reboot unless the filmmakers can find a reason to justify doing something new and different. Most of the new film hits the sweet spot between honoring the structure and vibe of the old one while still infusing it with the unique sensibility of its (re)makers. The very presence of the old cast (awesome though they are as individual performers) and some of the callbacks simply feels like an unwelcome intrusion, sort of like the VIPs that you’re obliged to put on the guest list even though the party will be super-unhip if they actually show up.

On the whole, though, it’s an enjoyable and—dare I say—necessary extension of the Ghostbusters franchise into the 21st century. The weird mix of welcome and unwelcome nostalgia is likely an unavoidable cost of that labor. All the same, what I kind of dig conceptually about the new film is that it formalizes the Ghostbusters not just as a viable franchise, but as a cultural institution, one that’s multigenerational in a meaningful, active sense. What would America be without its institutions—and what would (movie) New York be without its Ghostbusters? ☕


About tardishobbit

Reads. Writes. Watches movies. Occasionally stirs from chair. Holds an advanced degree in heuristic indolence. View all posts by tardishobbit

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