Ghostbusters
(1984)
Rated: PG
Runtime: 1 Hour and 47 Minutes
Reviewer: Dale
Grade: A+I was ten when I finally saw the movie that would change my life. I had wanted to see it before that, mind you. I had been aware of it for many years, and had wanted to see it from the moment at the Rockbridge School Book Fair when I noticed the novelization of the movie and began leafing through it. I saw the pictures. Pictures of the green ghost (the ghost of John Belushi, I now know, but back then he was just Slimer, and he always will be to me), pictures of the four guys in those amazing jumpsuits (like astronauts and exterminators rolled into one, and cooler than either), pictures of the Ecto 1 (still the car of my dreams, with Cameron's father's Ferrari as a close second) and pictures of the infamous Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. At that instant, I was hooked. It became the mission of my young life to see this movie. Whenever I made the acquaintance of anyone who had seen the movie I instantly began badgering them with questions. I had to know what it was like, I had to know if it was as good as that little novelization (I was in second grade then, the thing even had STICKERS in the back). But most of all, I had to see it with my own eyes.
Unfortunately, I had very protective parents. Nothing against them, mind you. They had their reasons, and I'm sure that each of them was a perfectly fine reason, I have never doubted that. It might have been that they thought it would be too scary for me, it might have been that it was too raunchy for me, maybe they just didn't like the looks of it. Who knows. All I knew was that they would not let me see it and that they had their reasons.
So I did what any decent kid would have done.
I snuck behind their back and watched it when it finally came on television.
After all those years of build-up, it would have been very easy for the film to disappoint me. It would have been very easy for the whole thing to be a gigantic letdown.
But even with all those astronomical expectations, I still loved every second of it, and I still do. I must have seen it a hundred times at least by now, and I can quote every line and I know everything that's coming, but I still giggle like a little girl. I laugh even in parts where no one else does. I bust up whenever Bill Murray hands Egon a Nestle Crunch bar (thank God for the Zoom feature on my DVD Player). I still guffaw at the delicate way the cigarette hangs suspended upon Dan Aykroyd's lip when he sees "Slimer" for the first time. I still believe, with all my heart and soul, that "Let's show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown" is the finest piece of dialogue since the invention of the Talkie.
Yes, I love it that much. I love it because it is clever and uproarious and pain-stakingly crafted. It has more jokes than any other film I have ever seen. Well, maybe not, but it has more that I laugh at, and I laugh harder at them than I have during any other film. They are subtle and clever and wonderful, and so are the sight gags. The effects are used to a sublime advantage, and they have aged surprisingly well. Stay Puft still looks as good as, if not better than, anything that ILM could cook up today. Few movies have as many quotable lines as this one. Few movies have as much plain, old-fashioned COOLNESS in them. The traps they catch ghosts in: they are COOL! The Containment Grid: COOL! The Proton Packs: COOL! And not only that, they are clever. They were wonderful inventions and they are still magical to me. Hell, the whole movie is still magical to me. It's the story of three men who get kicked out of college and then proceed to save the world. Come on, what plot could be better? It has an edge to it, as well. There are moments where you actually believe that the boys might screw it up, that the world might be in serious jeopardy. It sells the idea that the world may end a lot better than Independence Day, for one. And, sixteen years after its initial release, it is still as fresh as it ever was.
So, to sum it up, I kinda like this movie. Just a little.