Ghostbusters: Afterlife is nostalgia porn

In 1984, when the original Ghostbusters was released, the film industry was (arguably) in a state of decay. The innovation and groundbreaking popular cinema of the 1960s and 1970s were in decline. Under Reagan, cinema pivoted more to the right and greater corporate control. Hollywood cinema embraced nostalgia and some of the biggest films of that decade looked back towards the 1940s and 1950s; movies like Indiana Jones and Back to the Future. Yet, those boardrooms and creators still had a spark of originality. When the original Ghostbusters was released, it was fresh, and it took risks. It combined improbable genres and adopted an irreverent, ironic sense of humour that resonates today. 

In 2021, we’ve moved far past the point of no return. The corporatization of the blockbuster is solidified, any creativity ironed out and rejected. Most movies are “fine,” few are great and even fewer are interesting. Studios no longer want to take any risks.

Enter, Ghostbusters: Afterlife, a blatant corrective cash-in to make up for the 2016 reboot that inadvertently launched a culture war. The movie was terrible, it was cheap, it barely felt like an actual film, but it should have been left at that. The shallow nostalgia-porn of Afterlife is hardly corrective. Like many modern blockbusters, it is “fine” but lacks any sense of risk or creativity. It might better capture the original’s tone and jokes, but that only serves to underline that it’s a pale photocopy. As much as it feels like a real movie, whereas 2016 felt like a second-rate SNL sketch, it also feels like an extended ad — a callow, self-referential film that offers easter eggs as substance.

The film’s cold open sets the scene. We’re in the middle of nowhere during a storm, and a barely visible figure, who we will soon learn is Egon Spengler, drives towards a dirt farm. The sequence features excellent effects and an elaborate ghost trap but lacks any suspense or intrigue. The filmmakers suppose that just the idea of the original Ghostbusters film is enough to create a swell of intrigue in a nostalgia-hungry audience. Perhaps, in a way, they’re right.

As the film goes on, there are many such moments: pointless set-ups to reveal treasured objects from the original series: the Ghostbusters Cadillac, the suits, the equipment. Entire sequences are built on characters nearly stumbling on some significant artifact from the mid-’80s, only to have them “miss” out on it. Once we finally move into the ghost-busting plot and most of these objects are restored to the foreground, they are still featured endlessly in pointless cutaways. As if the audience may forget what they’re watching, the movie repeatedly cuts to the Ghostbusters logo with no rhyme or reason. 

All these self-referential moments and the overdone ’80s nostalgia make the film feel somewhat unreal. It doesn’t help that the plot leads us towards a finale that feels like an excuse for the greatest easter egg of all. It’s fan service that ignores the central appeal of the original film — that it felt fresh, daring and irreverent. It domesticates comedy, packaged in a bright and cool package that might not be offensive to anyone’s sensibilities. It fails precisely because of that. It’s a movie that takes all of that nostalgia and loads it into a cozy, safe package that seems pre-destined to sell tickets and merch.

We’ll keep this review firmly spoiler-free, but it’s impossible to discuss Afterlife without noting that the final sequence features a specific creative decision that crosses decency and good taste. It’s so egregious that it casts a dark shadow on the rest of the movie, erasing much of the goodwill it otherwise accrued. It won’t be a dealbreaker for everyone, but ethically it should raise some eyebrows. 

Where the movie works best is when it focuses on the adults. Paul Rudd plays a fabulous buffoon who goes completely off the rails in a delightful sequence in a Walmart (the product placement extends to non-Ghostbusters products as well). Carrie Coon’s exhausted and overworked mother similarly captures the pained melancholy of the original, the total disillusionment with modern life. She delivers her lines with the detached, ironic coolness of Bill Murray. 

Ultimately Ghostbusters: Afterlife is fine. It’s inoffensive, crowd-pleasing, family fare intended to correct the mistakes of the past. It’s a good movie to bring your kids to, especially if they do enjoy the original. It doesn’t stand up on its own, relying heavily on prior knowledge of the original film even though the movie goes above and beyond reminding you of every essential detail you may need to know to understand it. It’s somewhat condescending and only affirms that it’s a real movie in only the most illusionary way. ■

Ghostbusters: Afterlife opens in Montreal theatres on Friday, Nov. 19.

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