Movie Review: Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire
It May Be A Bloated, Nostalgic Joyride But It's My Bloated, Nostalgic Joyride
In a world where the difference between a movie’s cost of production and its gross receipts is the headline, the term “sequel” is dated. Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire is thus an “installment” in an epic, Marvel-ous “cinematic universe.”
SONY Pictures likely noticed the MCU’s $30 billion dollar profit when they brought ECTO 1 out of storage in 2021 for Ghostbusters: Afterlife. Afterlife was a charming, by-the-numbers reboot and introduced us to Phoebe Spengler (Mckenna Grace), her brother Trevor (Finn Wolfhard), Phoebe’s troubled single mom Callie (Carrie Coon) and her swain, local teacher and positive male role model Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd).
Afterlife took the new Ghostbusters from deepest, darkest Oklahoma to Tribeca; as it grossed $204 million worldwide against a production budget of $75 million it qualified for the next level in 21st Century epic filmmaking: the passing of the torch.
My high-school girlfriend and I held hands in the dark and watched the 1984 Ghostbusters vanquish the extra-dimensional Gozer, so a new pantheon of bad-guy gods were needed for Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, requiring the filmmakers to lay miles of narrative pipe.
An ancient Sumerian god (Garraka) is trapped in an orb in the possession of a slacker hero Fire Master (Kumail Nanjiani) who unwittingly pawns it at Ray’s Occult Books (Dan Aykroyd). Garraka is released, proton packs are strapped on, and a renewed Ecto-1 pulls out of the firehouse.
Single mom Callie is conflicted between the obligations of motherhood and her budding romance with Gary; the precocious Phoebe, struggling to make friends, develops an emotional bond with a teenaged specter (Emily Alyn Lind) by playing midnight chess with her at Washington Square Park (I have been to Washington Square Park at midnight and no one plays chess. Just take my word on this).
As Frozen Empire joyrides through New York, its bloated cast of characters drag the action. Scary demons, reluctant demon slayers, and a basement-dwelling academic (Patton Oswalt) careen ahead, occasionally coming to a screeching halt at the inevitable expositional plumbing construction.
Are you still with me? Good, because this only takes us to Act 3, where the first generation Ghostbusters Dr. Peter Venkman (Bill Murray), Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd), Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson), and Janine Melnitz (Annie Potts) offer their blessings and pass the flickering torch.
There’s more, including Podcast (yes, there is a character named Podcast and yes, he makes podcasts), Trevor’s will-they-or-won’t they Oklahoma crush Lucky (Celeste O’Connor), a dashing British Ghostbuster Lars Pinfield (James Acaster), and the unlikely return of antagonist Walter Peck (William Atherton), presumably brought in to tee up a "dickless” callback (:25-:37 here) that was totally worth it.
Frozen Empire is at its best when it follows Mckenna Grace’s Phoebe, who anchors the story with gravitas and skill. She is the hero of our story and the promising future of the franchise.
Nostalgia is a powerful thing and it must be taken with care. The notion that the past is happier than the present can be depressing and, if its powerful sentimentality is not absorbed in small measure, it can become toxic. That said, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire may be a cynical, corporate commodification of Gen X nostalgia, but I know my limits and I think I can handle it.
In the end, the good outweighed the bad and I enjoyed Frozen Empire. It may be a bloated, nostalgic joyride, but it’s my bloated nostalgic joyride.
I'm a slave to sentimentality. I'd still pay $14 to watch them turn on a light saber and set it on a table for 2 hours. I have no idea why. I mean really there were only 2 (?) good Star Wars movies, right?