Al's Omniflick: Ghostbusters

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Ghostbusters

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Paul Feig/Starring: Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon, Leslie Jones, Chris Hemsworth, Ed Begley, Jr., Charles Dance, Cecily Strong and Andy Garcia

So along comes the Ghostbusters reboot with its mostly female cast. Never has a movie been dissed and hissed more prior to its release. The internet has been rife the last year with anti-Ghostbusters diatribes and hate campaigns, particularly after the trailer became accessible. The question, which seems more rhetorical now, is: does the movie deserve the venom, the vitriol and contempt fans of the original have reserved for this iteration? No. But that doesn't mean it's worth a plug nickel either. At the risk of incurring the scorn and wrath of the internet, I have to say the idea of having an all-female cast wasn't unsound but the original Ghostbusters isn't just any movie. It's a comedy classic and the beloved of millions (including myself), who don't want to see an inferior reboot sully the original's sacred aura. Maybe I'm rhapsodizing, but you get the point.

While this version offers a few chuckles and an okay plot, it is also stands undistinguished among the summer's other bummers. It doesn't hurt that the production featured director Paul Feig; who lent his talents to two terrific comedies featuring female leads: Bridesmaids and Spy. But lots of CGI and some intermittently amusing repartee couldn't free the film from the sticky goo (as we see copiously in the movie) of mediocrity. A simple question might be: did this really have to be made? Does this mean other movie classics with male casts will now be re-imagined with women? What's next, a distaff The Dirty Dozen? Reservoir Dogs? The Good, The Bad and The Ugly? Brothers and sisters, I've learned anything is possible.

Kristen Wiig plays Erin Gilbert; a professor at Columbia hoping to secure tenure though an embarrassing book she co-wrote with a friend on the paranormal has resurfaced on Amazon, which threatens her academic career. Gilbert seeks out her former collaborator and friend, who is head of a scientific research department at a small college. She finds her co-author, Abbie Yates (Melissa McCarthy) in her lab with her assistant; a tech nerd named Jillian (Kate McKinnon). Gilbert scolds her erstwhile friend while Yates dredges up old grievances. As the two women bicker, a visitor interrupts with a request for an investigation into a ghost sighting. Yates and Jillian depart eagerly while Gilbert, ever the skeptic, follows along reluctantly. Though the malevolent apparition makes a believer out of Gilbert, the video of the incident makes its way to YouTube, where it is mocked and derided. Gilbert is subsequently dismissed from her job but joins Yates and Jillian in a new scientific venture investigating paranormal claims.

After the three women find their prospective headquarters in a firehouse too pricey, they settle for a place above a Chinese restaurant. Before long, an MTA worker named Patty Tolan (Leslie Jones) arrives at their office; seeking their help in solving the mystery of a ghost who menaces the city subway system. After capturing the ghost, Tolan makes a plea to join the their group, which they accept. Though a proper name for their organization eludes them, a derogatory comment on the television referring to them as Ghostbusters inadvertently provides a moniker. Tolan borrows a hearse from her uncle, which becomes their means of transportation (replete with the now famous logo). The women also take on a beefcake receptionist named Kevin (Chris Hemsworth), who Gilbert can't seem to resist.

Meanwhile, a wacko named Rowan North (Neil Casey) has been busy skulking about the city, involved in his own activities connected to the paranormal. Though we know his agenda, who and what he is is divulged later.

The Ghostbusters first assignment is to investigate a haunted concert hall, which finds them face to face with a large, ectoplasmic, green dragon the audience thinks is part of the show. Using the particle accelerators developed by Jillian, they blast away at it in vain.

It isn't long before the Ghostbusters learn of North and his plans to open a portal to the ghost world, which will bring about a ghost apocalypse. The Ghostbusters are summoned by the Mayor (Andy Garcia) and his assistant Jennifer Lynch (Cecily Strong) to deal with the problem, which leads to a big, CGI-laden showdown.

Though the characters and plot particulars are somewhat different from the original, we still know where the story is headed. In spite of some able comediennes, who are all funny in their own way, they can't make the material more than just a little amusing. This version can't stimulate guffaws the way the original could and did. McCarthy and Wiig shoulder most of the comedic load though they get solid contributions from McKinnon and Jones. Hemsworth is the attractive, bubble-headed receptionist (a character type once reserved for women but now open to men) who fails to generate any laughs.

Why doesn't this movie work? I could spend an afternoon addressing that question but it's just too involved. I've already cited one mistake, which is rebooting something that shouldn't have been rebooted. Another are the gags, which just aren't that funny. And the omnipresent slime, which was used to great comic effect in the original, is wildly overdone here. The scene where Yates first tries the particle accelerator (or whatever it is) and is bounced around an alley is okay but again, it rouses a smile rather than a hearty laugh.

The cameos are fun but rather than just paying homage to the original characters, their presence made me long for the first movie. Some ghoulies from the original make an appearance as does the firehouse the team eventually inhabits. But the familiar faces and places just seem like nostalgia.

In case you're wondering, the question of whether a sequel is in the works can be answered after the credits conclude. Being that movies no longer need be good to spawn sequels, even this flimsy flick can't be dismissed as a one off. Rest assured the public's violent antipathy to the making of this film will hardly dissuade the studio from green-lighting another.

I've already forgotten most of the film, which is a blessing. Can't anyone make a passably entertaining summer blockbuster anymore? Guardians of the Galaxy 2; where art thou?

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On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.