It’s a modern call to subtle rebellion against the ancient world of gods and stasis, for all that it hides behind a grin and a chuckle. Ghostbusters (1984) is the story of three New York City scientists who study the supernatural, beginning with reports of ghosts. Using technologically arcane instruments and tools, they capture the troublesome spirits, storing them in a custom prison, but begin catching hints of an imminent major supernatural incident. When it breaks upon the city, they are the ones called upon to face down and destroy the ancient and savage Sumerian God Gozer.
Throughout the history of religious myths, mankind has rarely been more than a play toy for the divine multitudes, whether those are the Hindu gods, the Roman/Greco crew, those who inhabit Valhalla, or the more modern religions such as Christianity. At best, we can hope to join them if we play our cards just right. But in Ghostbusters, we see a modern take on what might be the reality of how a divine being would traditionally treat its subjects, and how we’d react, for Gozer is an unrepentant representative of the old divinities, with the attributes of arrogance, disdain, and self-confidence on full display as she makes a New York City skyscraper her gateway into the modern world.
But we can push her and her fate aside for a moment, for in more than one way this movie attacks the old model of the human plaything, and the submission to the religious hierarchies implied in that mythos. It’s rare that Gods discard their dignity and ambiance of power in the face of their human subjects. (Perhaps the Hindu god Ganesha might be an exception, although I’m not very familiar with that pantheon; another exception would be the drunken Pan of the Greek mob). But while we might excuse the excesses of the ghosts captured and restrained as nothing more than playfulness on the part of the storytellers, the depiction of the actual divinities is more important.
A sweet puppy, no? But is it a gate or a key?
For Gozer to enter the modern world, her supernatural representatives, the Gatekeeper and the Keymaster who forcefully possess the bodies of modern humans, must come together to open the way. The Gatekeeper is deliciously divine. When possessed, she becomes a sexual hottie ready to sleep with whomever is available; but the Keymaster? He, played by comedian Rick Moranis, is a chronically ineffectual and socially awkward accountant with a grating voice who, upon becoming possessed, may have become quite powerful, but loses none of his other characteristics. He is still ineffectual and socially tone-deaf. It’s only through luck that he finds the Gatekeeper and gets to do, well, whatever it is when a key meets a lock that holds a divinely mad creature at bay.
But it’s also worth taking a look at the scientists, who are distinctly non-stereotypical. Recently kicked out of their university jobs, and thus deprived of funding, they are forced to turn to the commercialization of their recently conceived technology, capturing those ghosts who trouble the living and restraining them in a powerful laser grid. While the initial three all hold doctorates, their leader, Dr. Venkman, might be considered the Everyman, and is the hero of the movie – not so much because of what he does, but because of who he is, a man full of hormones who doesn’t bother to conceal it, a cowboy ready to chase the ghosts without restraint, even if without understanding. As such, he is very much an anti-expert, and his success at his work might be attributed as much to his trying as to his knowledge – which appears spotty. His fellow scientists, perhaps more accomplished, are somewhat less distinctive characters. (It occurs to me to wonder how Ghostbusters would have done had it been paced much like Once Upon A Time In The West (1968), with its long, significant pauses and slow dialog delivery.)
But their opponents are not confined to the supernatural realm. A representative of the EPA shows up, demanding access to their work. Much like the priests of old, the scientists’ denial of his demands spark a self-righteous anger and a mad belief that the official can do no wrong. When he shuts off the power to their ghost-prison, causing not only a release of ghosts, but the near-destruction of the building, he denies all responsibility and doubles down at his game. It’s clear that he represents the old clerical hierarchy at its haughty, offended worst, and I suspect is a hint of what was to come for the Catholic Church: humiliation at the long-delayed revelations concerning pedophilia and its coverup, and the destruction of its Irish branch. Just as the EPA agent does not come to a happy ending, nor do those in the religious hierarchy in real-life.
But now let us return to Gozer, because the mocking of this divinity, and divinities in general, comes in three ways.
First, her aforementioned attributes of arrogance, disdain, and over-weening self-confidence are a slap and a reminder to the audience that divinities have rarely treated humanity well, assuming the former ever existed. This makes sense. Gods are created in order to explain the world. A world of ease and comfort needs little explanation, but a world of famine, disease, and war; the death of the innocent and the sudden destruction of cities and civilizations by the hand of man or Nature, these need explanations – and those explanations need not be pretty. A child-killer isn’t a nice God, no matter which pantheon you favor.
Second, the gibes of our movie’s heroes, the defenders of humanity, reflect the sensibilities of the era in which the movie was made. It’s a deliberate reminder of the self-centeredness of humanity and how the supposed eternal moralities of the divine, which include the divine’s supremacy, prove to be inferior to the technology of humanity. One might say that this is a optimistic jab at religious orders and their ever-unseen divinities.
It’s Mr. Stay Puft to you!
Third, and I scarcely need to mention it, but transforming the visually impressive Gozer into the monstrous “Stay Puft Marshmallow Man” for a rampage through New York City is a mockery difficult to exceed. Upon Gozer’s destruction, a white slime (a sly dig at manna?) rains down upon a citizenry rapturous with victory over this God. It would be a delicious moment if it weren’t for the slime in everyone’s hair.
Think about that for a moment. A victory over a God – a God bent upon exercising her usual privileges, much to the disservice of humanity. It gives the audience hope, I should think.
All that said, Ghostbusters suffers from some brittleness, much like that of British movies of a certain era, and the special effects are spotty. But the story is fairly organic, with interesting dialog and plot twist choices, particularly for Dr. Venkmann, whose lust for the lady soon to be the Gatekeeper is a lot of fun, especially when he must admit to his fellows that, after an unfortunate transformation, she is a dog.
Not a god.
Taken just as a fun movie, it’s OK. Thinking about how it plays with the religious sensibilities of millions of Americans? A lot more fun.
Enjoy!
