Thursday 4 August 2016

Now look what you've done. You've made me turn my chair around.

So, the new Ghostbusters.

I went to see it at the cinema two weeks ago. I went on my own, partially because I love going on my own (cinema is one of the great solitary pass-times, why do people feel the need to go as a crowd?) and partially because no one else in my circle of friends would countenance seeing it (bear in mind these are people who have paid money to see several Transformer movies, on purpose).

And Ghostbusters was good. I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though at least thirty percent of the movie was rubbish (ineffective bad dude, sagging middle, cameos that made me cringe), and even though most of its problems stemmed from the associated baggage that always hinder reboots - namely a necessity to hat-tip the original whilst struggling for an original voice. It wasn't awful. I will watch it again on video.

But, see, I had no intention of watching it at all. I loved Ghostbusters as a kid. The cartoons and comics were the best thing in the world. I've had a low-level crush on Ray Stantz for nearly thirty years (it's no coincidence I married a man who's so similar to him) (husband considers himself Venkman; husband is wrong). Ghostbusters II was the second film I remember seeing at the cinema. I'm still mad at a critic who gave that movie three stars and described it as "ok if you like that kind of thing".

So I did NOT want to see a reboot. I groaned at every rumour of Ghostbusters III. I'd already decided I would ignore the new movie.

And then the shouting started.

Not just the terrible internet shouting. The shouting within my own house. My son and husband HATE the idea of the reboot. This isn't anything new - we hate the idea of lots of movies. But eventually one of us will decide we want to see it, and the other two will roll our eyes, and then it'll turn out the movie isn't awful and we'll all quite enjoy it. That's what happened with The Thing. And Star Trek. And Star Wars, for that matter.

But it didn't happen here. I suggested the new Ghostbusters looked alright, and was instantly told I was wrong. WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONITY WRONG. And what happens when people tell me I don't want something? I START WANTING IT.

I did not want to watch Ghostbusters. I did not want to pay £9.50 and wear the bloody awkward 3D glasses and deal with cinema audiences. You people made me.

(Not you specificially, of course. You're lovely. Other people.)

And now look what you've done. I enjoyed it.

So I came home and told people. And they shouted me down. Turns out, every opinion I have about this movie is wrong! Even something as simple as "OMFG Kate McKinnion why did no one tell me" was countered by the insistence that the movie had deliberately cast ugly women to prevent it appealing to men (thank you, hormonal teenage son, for setting me right). The movie was devised by a committee to squeeze a new gimmick into an existing franchise; a cynical cash-grab by greedy Hollywood; a trampling of cherished childhood memories.

The last two movies I paid money for at the cinema were The Jungle Book and the Angry Birds Movie. I missed the outcry about the former trampling on childhoods, or the latter cynically squeezing money from an existing franchise.

But you know what? It's fine.

When I was a kid, everyone liked the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles. I was the only Ghostbusters fan in the village. I wore my jumpsuit and proton pack to school discos. I was stubborn and contrary and liked liking things that no one else did. This has not changed.

So it's okay if people don't agree with me. In fact, it's better than okay, because it means the new Ghostbusters movie is mine and I don't have to share it. Everyone else can bitch and moan, and I'll sit here quietly, and smile.