Ghostbusters, the movie
Some may call 1984’s Ghostbusters cheesy. Or juvenile. Or shallow.
To them I say, What’s your point? It’s funny. Really, really funny.
I have one small quibble with the movie. The library ghost? Not a librarian. I spent the late 1980s and early 1990s working in libraries, one of which has its own ghost. Miss Ethel McDowell, head librarian of Ashtabula’s downtown library for sixty-two years, died shortly after her 1968 retirement. She’s rumored to have returned to the place she loved the best.
Rearranging books in the stacks (especially in the basement)? It happens.
Symmetrical book stacking? I can buy that.
But nobody, and I mean nobody, dead or alive, who ever alphabetized and filed catalog cards would ever screw with the catalog drawers like the New York Public Library’s ghost does. I promise. Miss McDowell certainly wouldn’t.
Ghostbusters’ library ghost is not, and never was a librarian, despite her shushing of Venkman, Stantz, and Spengler. Maybe a pissed off patron. Overdue fines can be a killer. Or so I’ve heard.
Other than that, the movie is close to perfect. It’s got ghosts. It’s got shape-shifting ancient demon-gods. It’s got Bill Murray. It’s got a giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Did I mention it’s funny?
What’s not to love? You can have your DeLorean. I want the ECTO-1. (Although, it would be even cooler fitted with a flux capacitor.)
Ghostbusters wraps up my Seton Hill University Readings in the Genre: The Haunted course. Taking a night off from meeting deadlines to watch—and laugh—at this movie—and justify it as homework—was a bonus. And, just what I needed this week.
I might be back over the summer with a non-schoolwork related post or two, but I’m not counting on it. Time is never on my side. If not, I’ll be back in the fall with Monsters. I’m looking forward to it.