Bustin’ used to make me feel good

The original Ghostbusters is a near-perfect film. It’s just the right blend of comedy and legitimate horror, with Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis, Bill Murray, and Ernie Hudson in their prime. When it came out, it was innovative from both a technological and storytelling standpoint, and my goodness, was it ballsy, depicting a giant marshmallow man terrorizing New York City. It was lightning in a bottle.

I’ve always thought the idea of a Ghostbusters franchise was weird; that there should be this ongoing sequel-spawning IP universe expanding the lore and mythos of the 1984 comedy. See how that sounds? Is there a mythos around Ghostbusters? Watch this 1984 ShoWest (now called CinemaCon) promo and tell me if you think this is the type of movie that should garner lore and mythos. Superman? Sure. Lord the Rings. Definitely. Ghostbusters? No. Yet, here we are with the fourth installment of the Reitman-verse Ghostbusters, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, which opened on March 22. And it’s just weird.

Hollywood’s insistence that we want more movies featuring our childhood heroes so they can peddle the “passing the torch to a new generation” trope rarely works. Look at how the Star Wars sequels and the last two Indiana Jones movies worked out.

I say no more. Enough is enough. The Ghostbusters franchise needs to stop.

I remember the first time I saw the ad for Ghostbusters in my local newspaper in 1984 (back when print newspapers listed all the showtimes for local theaters) and how intrigued I was. It was like nothing I had ever seen; three guys wearing tan uniforms with backpacks, holding what appeared to be laser guns. Behind them was a white ghost imprisoned behind a red null sign. When I finally saw it in theaters it took 12 minutes for the movie to scare the poo out of me. You know which scene I’m talking about: the New York Public Library scene. I was nine. But I also remember that in between the scares the theater would erupt in uproarious laughter. No movie I had seen previously made me cover my eyes in fright and laugh out loud the way Ghostbusters did. Of course, I wasn’t alone.

Ghostbusters earned $282.2 million during its initial run; the highest-grossing comedy ever at that point. It spawned a cultural phenomenon with Ghostbusters T-shirts, hats, and Halloween costumes. You couldn’t escape hearing Ray Parker, Jr.’s theme song on the radio or seeing the music video on MTV. “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts” was the catchphrase of the year. By the end of 1984, Ghostbusters was no longer a quirky little comedy movie; it was a money-making machine, a brand that must be squeezed for as long as possible.

Two years later, The Real Ghostbusters cartoon debuted, a watered-down G-rated version spinoff of the movie targeted to kids like me, complete with its own toy line and merchandising tie-ins. After the success of the first film and the 1986 cartoon, Columbia Pictures pressured Aykroyd, Ramis, and director Ivan Reitman to make a sequel to the 1984 film. They were reluctant, but what the studio demands, the studio receives. In an interview with Starlog Magazine during the sequel’s filming, Murray was quoted as saying, “We’ll burn in hell if we call it Ghostbusters II. I’ve suggested Last Of The Ghostbusters, to make sure there won’t be anything like a Ghostbusters III.” After a troubled production period, Ghostbusters II was released on June 16, 1989, the number-one movie of that weekend, earning $29.5 million. But by the following weekend, it was overshadowed by Tim Burton’s Batman and, ironically, Rick Moranis’ Honey, I Shrunk The Kids. While audiences generally liked it, critics mostly did not. Roger Ebert said there was no comedy in it and called it a “total disappointment.” While I do hold a special place in my heart for this lackluster sequel, Ghostbusters II was an attempt to take itself more seriously while spewing humor that just wasn’t as smart. I do have to say, though, I’ve always loved Bobby Brown’s theme song.

Over the next two decades, the Ghostbusters franchise limped on, with more cartoon iterations, along with comic books and video games. But by the 2000s, a peculiar thing happened. Fans who grew up with the original Ghostbusters films and cartoons began demanding another sequel. Ghostbusters: The Video Game, answered the call. Released in 2009, it was the closest thing fans got, with writing credits going to Aykroyd and Ramis, who also lent their voices, along with Ernie Hudson and Bill Murray. This, of course, added fuel to the online fire for another proper sequel; to end the franchise on a better note than Ghostbusters II.

The all-female reboot, 2016’s Ghostbusters: Answer The Call sparked a lot of controversy, which I won’t get into here. It also confused a lot of fans. Was it part of the 1980s Ghostbusters timeline, or some sort of alternate universe version? Does it matter? This is my point. There’s now a Ghostbusters universe and it doesn’t make sense. This isn’t the MCU, nor was it ever meant to be.

Then in 2021, fans (and Columbia Pictures, which was bought by Sony) got their wish. More than 32 years after the 1984 film, Ghostbusters: Afterlife was released, a direct sequel to Ghostbusters II. Full of messages about legacy and “taking up the mantle,” the seriousness and nostalgia of this movie is the antithesis of what the original is all about. While there is humor in it, it’s subtle and cliche, operating as more of a coming-of-age drama. Sure, the OGs were in it (Egon as a ghost!), which pulled at my heartstrings, but the franchise has become something else entirely, nostalgic and sentimental. Plus, it made no sense. How do so few people in the film remember the cataclysmic ghostfest that took place in New York City, not once, but twice? The 1980s were not that long ago. And now, even with Afterlife’s less-than-stellar critical reception, we’re getting more nostalgia clickbait with Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

Look, I get it. I love nostalgia, too. I watched the cartoons, currently own the 2009 video game, watched Afterlife, and will see Frozen Empire. But Ghostbusters has become this thing it was never meant to be. It’s now a nostalgic franchise rooted in sentimentality with cliche storytelling, a far cry from the daringness and zaniness of the original. Ghostbusters is a film that never took itself too seriously. And neither should we.