On Paul Feig's 'Ghostbusters,' and ill-fated controversies

Hello, all. This is my first attempt at Steemit-exclusive pop culture writing. If you'd like to know why I'm doing this, here you go.

This doesn't contain any spoilers for the new Ghostbusters, but it might feature some mild language.

I'm not sure when the last time any of you watched the original Ghostbusters was, but on rewatch, one scene really stood out. In this pivotal sequence, the 'Busters squad make a solemn vow just before they head into the climactic battle over Dana's soul:

VENKMAN
Boys, can you promise me one thing before we do this?

THE BOYS (in unison)
Yeah?

VENKMAN
If we don't make it, let's agree on one thing: chicks could never, ever do this job. Penises are a vital part of being a Ghostbuster. Maybe the only vital part.

THE BOYS
Goddamn straight! 

The astute among you will note that this is not a real scene from the '84 Ghostbusters. You'd be forgiven for thinking it was, though, based on the vitriol that's been thrown at Feig's movie since its basic concept ("what about lady Ghostbusters?!") was announced. A certain segment of the male moviegoing public was (and apparently remains) so aghast at the very notion of an all-female Ghostbusters that you'd think Feig had personally Inceptioned his way into these filmgoers' perception of Ghostbusting and sullied it forever, armed only with vaginas.

Upon actually watching Feig's Ghostbusters, it's a wonder that a movie like this could ever have stirred up any sort of fuss whatsoever. It's a relentlessly pleasant, well-meaning, fan-servicing, sometimes witty, utterly calculated bit of comic entertainment whose greatest liability is its slavish devotion to Ivan Reitman's original. Feig's Ghostbusters could stand to be a lot more like the legacy-tarnishing Hail Mary pass the misogynistic haters imagined. The main descriptor that comes to mind: dutiful.

The very concept of the movie's universe makes plain its sense of compromise and brand management: in theory, it's a full reboot, but echoes of the original movie are near-constant. Kristen Wiig and Melissa McCarthy star as estranged former besties with a shared interest in the scientific end of the paranormal; SNL's Kate McKinnon (destined for the dubious honor of consistently excelling in so-so comedies -- see also Anna Faris) and Leslie Jones round out the team, with McKinnon's Holtzmann as both the team's raging id and geek weapons manufacturer.

I mention only Holtzmann by name as she's the only character who merits singling out. In a movie that expends countless shots, gags, and cameos in a bloody-minded effort to recall the original movie, Holtzmann is the one contribution to this universe that feels entirely new, largely (though not entirely) due to her overt queerness. McKinnon swaggers across this movie like Jim Carrey did in his first performances; the movies themselves were all thoroughly forgettable, but that didn't stop him, and McKinnon similarly seizes her moment. Along with a few solid sight gags stemming from Chris Hemsworth's casting as the team's gorgeous but dim-witted receptionist, Holtzmann feels like the movie's only real attempt to drag the franchise into the 21st century.

Besides McKinnon's antics, Feig's movie defers more or less unerringly to the original movies, from the updated theme music to the many, many cameos and shoutouts. Despite the fact that Feig's movie takes place in a universe wherein Ghostbusters have never existed, it refuses to step out of its predecessors' shadow. It's difficult not to think of Mad Max: Fury Road, another recent franchise reboot that faced a backlash from MRA douchebags (albeit on a much smaller scale), but nevertheless shied away from familiar iconography in favor of a colorful new vision of its universe. Of course, that movie had the benefit of being helmed by George Miller, a true genre filmmaker with roots outside of Hollywood. Feig is a comic filmmaker first and a genre filmmaker a far-distant second; anyone who's seen his riotous Trek-spoofing webseries Other Space (with which this movie shares a principal actor, Neil Casey) will note that he's more adept at handling ersatz spoofs than the real deal, so while many of the punchlines land, the action sequences (of which there are more than you might expect) tend to drag into eternity.

Ultimately, for all of the invective thrown at it, Ghostbusters is simply another canny bit of Hollywood intellectual-property management, not some feminist ploy to upset assholes with a subversive agenda. Actually, without Feig's open commitment to showcasing female comic actors in an industry keen to shun them, the movie might have had no distinctive qualities at all, so the crying chorus should be thankful for Feig's decision to make Ghostbusters a showcase for them. Those same crybabies should be praying this one's a rousing success, so that Feig and company are able to loosen their corporate shackles and produce something worth making any kind of fuss over.