It’s hard to believe thirty years have gone by since I first saw Ghostbusters, but I can still recall the charge of electricity in the air that night at the theater.
My first viewing of the movie was in one of the largest auditoriums at the Eric (now United Artists) Pennsauken outside of Philadelphia, which boasted a 70mm projector and could seat roughly 800 patrons.
The tremendous hype for the movie had been building ever since a terrific give-nothing-away teaser trailer premiered the previous year.
Now, it was down to the last few minutes before the lights would dim and the curtains would part, when we’d all finally get to see what the fuss was about. We were all so jazzed for the movie that several enthusiastic chants of “Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters!” swelled throughout the rowdy auditorium as the theater projectionist waited an extra twenty minutes for the stragglers to pack in.
Nothing else can ever equal the community thrill and collective vibe of being part of such a large audience loving the movie in sync—even before the movie began. Nowadays, we’re lucky if the largest auditorium at the local multiplex holds more than 400 people, and consider ourselves fortunate if half of the patrons form an attentive and respectful audience.
I recently went to see the limited theatrical revival of the original 1984 Ghostbusters—I leap at any opportunity to see a big screen audience classic on a big screen with an audience—and it’s a pleasure to report that the movie holds up wonderfully, not only as a classic snapshot of the 1980s, but as a crowd pleaser to fresh viewers today.
Old and young, boy and girl, everyone laughed at the same punchlines, everybody jumped at all the same well-timed scares, and people applauded—applauded!—several times during the movie (biggest applause moments: two seconds in, the Columbia Lady is given her due; there was a great response for Winston’s final line, “I love this town!” and some poignant applause for the late Harold Ramis’ end credit).
As I exited the theater, I was aware for the first time that Ghostbusters endures as one of the great and quintessential “New York” movies. Beyond terrific use of Big Apple locations, the city indeed plays a pivotal character in both Ghostbusters movies, and it surely helped that I saw this reissue in a decent Manhattan theater with a lively “New Yawk” crowd.
As witness to the newly scrubbed and remastered 4K projection, I’m elated to say that the presentation has never looked or sounded better and that, most importantly, there are no changes à la Lucas—no new bits inserted, no old bits fiddled with, no music or dialogue dubbed out. Nevertheless, a few surprises popped out at me that I’d somehow never noticed or acknowledged during umpteen previous viewings: the mortified hotel maid who takes refuge behind her trolley is shown in the background attempting to spritz out the flaming carpet with window cleaner (big laugh—how did I miss this for thirty years?); the actual subtext on the magazine covers shown during the first montage is more legible than ever before (really, do ghosts have civil rights?); and I was astonished over the frequency and nonchalance of all the cigarette smoking shown throughout the movie.
In 1989, there came the lesser-loved sequel, which is itself celebrating its 25th anniversary this year.
The follow-up doesn’t hold a candle to the original, nor has it aged as gracefully as its predecessor, but I admit I’ve softened to Ghostbusters II in the intervening twenty-five years.
The notion that a city population’s collective bad attitude can manifest itself as a psycho-reactive goo is a terrific plot device, and allows for many great “New York” moments.
It’s in key technical areas where the sequel disappoints, where changes of stewardship are most glaringly apparent–different cinematographer, new production designer, a not-as-prestigious musical composer, barely memorable song score—and it makes for a sequel that looks and sounds so drastically different than its predecessor you’d swear the B Team took over the whole show.
Most crucially, the score for Ghostbusters II is sorely missing its predecessor’s distinctive use of the theremin.
Despite reuniting the entire principal cast and most of the key production crew, Ghostbusters II serves as evidence to the theory that the window of opportunity for a successful and well-received sequel lies somewhere between two and four years—rarely do we get a good one that takes longer than that to produce.
Fans will continue to take Ghostbusters II or leave it, but it’s reassuring know that the original Ghostbusters remains timeless and will likely continue to live on for generations.
The flowers are definitely still standing. It’s also great news to know that, despite the quarter-century gap, plans are finally afoot for a new third movie, rumored to revolve around an all-female cast of newcomers.
There’s been no confirmation on the participation of Bill Murray or Ernie Hudson, but Ivan Reitman will hang around to produce, Dan Akyroyd is back aboard as co-screenwriter (he says he’s written two distinct stories for a continuation, so quite possibly he’s already drafted what will turn out to be Part 4), and director Paul Feig (Heat and Bridesmaids) is currently slated to conduct the comic mayhem.
There are rumblings that this may be a ground-up reboot, but there are also hints that the new movie will serve to pass the torch from the classic main characters to a new group of upstarts—perhaps their daughters. Names like Emma Stone, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Kristin Wiig and Melissa McCarthy are being tossed around, and I’m fine with any and all of these.
If this belated attempt at a third movie finally happens, look for an estrogen-charged Ghostbusters III to hit multiplexes sometime in 2016.
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