Welcome to a new regular entry on my blog, How Not To Make A Movie 101. In this series, I take a movie that has been justifiably rejected by both critics and audiences alike and dismantle it to determine what made it so horrendous and what lessons we may learn from it to avoid making the same mistakes in the future. The purpose of this series is twofold: one, as a means of discussing bad movies in a more positive light (as in not delving into the typical rage-inducing rants found on most online discourse), and two, offering helpful and experienced insights on how to improve ourselves, both as creatives and as people. As a wise person once said, it's only a mistake if you don't learn from it.
For our first entry, we will take a hard look at one of the biggest flops in recent memory, Ghostbusters (2016).
Before we begin, please allow me to address the Elephant in the room.
One of the most significant complaints about this film is that it stars all women, and some of the more uncomposed people on the internet have shared their anger over this creative choice.
Let me make this abundantly clear: Ghostbusters (2016) is not a terrible movie because it stars all women. No, Ghostbusters (2016) is a terrible movie because it was made with gross incompetence, cynical motivations, and no real creative drive to speak of, other than filling out a balance sheet to maintain rights and privileges. Ghostbusters (2016) is a perfect example of what happens when you have the wrong people in the wrong places at the wrong time, and there is so much to learn and share from this unfortunate disaster.
Most of the behind-the-scenes details I share here come from one of my favorite YouTube personalities, The Critical Drinker, and his video essay covering the production of this film. If you're curious to learn a little more about this movie's version of production hell, and you want a good laugh, check out his video. You can find a link at the end of this blog entry.
Class is now in session; let's begin!
Lesson #1:
Have A Plan, i.e., An Actual Script.
Apparently, most of the cast who signed on for the film committed the one fatal mistake no actor in their right mind should ever make: they didn't read the script (or the lack thereof —we'll get to that later) before committing to the project. Most of the prominent and supporting cast members were big fans of the original Ghostbusters film and cartoon show. They were incredibly excited about the prospect of participating in a brand-new movie based on that IP. Similarly (side note), Lian Neeson apparently didn't read the script for Star Wars: The Phantom Menace before trying out for the role, because he was already a big fan of the franchise. And while that arguably panned out better for him, it did not pan out so well for the cast of today's topic.
After the ink was dry on everyone's contracts, the cast became dismayed and disillusioned with the project they had just signed on to. As it turns out, director Paul Feig, known then for comedy hits like Bridesmaids and The Heat, decided to employ one of his then tried-and-true tactics for crafting comedy: an overreliance on improvisation.
For those who may not know or would like a quick refresher, improv is the art of in-the-moment creativity on stage. It's making up something on the spot with no clear direction, causing the performer to simply move with the flow and go with whatever comes to mind, no matter how ridiculous the situation. It is a magical, creative tool that has been the source of many memorable moments in both stage and film. A classic example is the ever-so-iconic line from The Godfather: "Take the Cannoli!" which was not in the original script. Still, the actor successfully enhanced the scene with spot-on spontaneity. Another classic example is from the Tom Hanks classic, Big, in which he eats a piece of baby corn as though it were a full-sized ear.
Small moments of improvisation, such as these, can elevate a scene in any kind of film, whether comedy or otherwise. In some rare instances, you could successfully film an entire scene with two actors improvising all of their dialogue. However, the key is to use improv in small doses —just enough to maintain a healthy balance between creative freedom and collaboration. While improvising an entire show works well on stage, it is not a sufficient tool for film, especially when it comes to how you approach a script as a whole.
Director Paul Feig had relied on large chunks of improvised scenes in most of his films, and, to be fair, it had worked in his favor for the kinds of films he prefers to make. His scripts were less traditionally written with scene instructions, dialogue, and specific notes, and were primarily vague descriptions of what needed to happen, relying on improv to get there. However, for something as intricate, technically demanding, and massive as a summer blockbuster, comedy or not, there is simply not enough wiggle room for such loose horseplay. In small doses, yes, it can enhance your ideas, but much like enjoying a good chocolate cake, you will suffer severe consequences if you don't pace yourself. It should come as no surprise, then, that the film's lack of a coherent, cohesive structure led to an original runtime of nearly four hours.
Had the cast taken the time to seriously examine what they were considering signing on to, and perhaps, if Paul Feig were less reliant on improvisation, they might have had the fortitude to either turn down the project or insist that it be better polished before agreeing to join. While it is understandable how some levels of passion and fandom override your sense of logic and observation, it should become standard practice to take the time to thoroughly observe any kind of project proposal before signing on.
Lesson #2:
Reverse Sexism Is Still Sexism; Don't Do It.
One of the many modern "culture war" subjects that has been permeating the Hollywood system as of late, for reasons I can understand to a degree, is what can best be described as The Girl Boss Movement. Please understand, as a feminist myself, I totally understand the unfortunate history of male dominance in nearly every aspect of culture, and I do appreciate and long for better efforts toward inclusion and representation. That was one of the many reasons I wrote and self-published my books (shameless plug), Come See The Light, and the sequel, The Fox and the Dragons. Female representation and inclusion of all kinds should be more strongly encouraged and utilized across all corners of the arts, no matter how great or small.
But, in the name of all that is good and right, I am so sick and tired of what on-screen feminism has devolved into in recent years!
Feminism, as featured in the Webster's Dictionary, is defined as the "belief in and advocacy of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes expressed especially through organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests." This is one of the many core foundations that played a significant role in my upbringing and has remained a proud part of my identity and advocacy. For me, feminism is as easy to understand and appreciate as breathing, if you stop to remember that we are both human beings and, like the concept of yin and yang, one cannot survive without the other.
As such, it becomes more straightforward (and significantly more practical) to treat both sexes equally. Because even though there are considerable biological differences between the two, both are part of a greater whole that cannot properly function if our differences are impractically enforced for equally impractical reasons. In other words, stop whining about gender affirmation care, and just let people be people, regardless of what bathroom they prefer to use!
Feminism is a relevant and essential aspect of the arts. Unfortunately, Hollywood's bastardized concept of feminism continues to give it a bad name!
Many of the "girl boss" led movies in recent years, especially those churned out by Disney, have incorporated an unhealthy and impractical interpretation of feminism, which often boils down to "women good; men evil." While I certainly understand and appreciate where this kind of frustrated mentality is coming from, once again, given the sad history of unfair and impractically biased male dominance in many things, this kind of "us vs. them" mentality is not only insulting to real feminism, but it is also the exact kind of childish one-sided unresolved anger that has bled its way into too many aspects of our culture and our very existance as a people. It is the reason we are in the terrifying and unconstitutional state as a nation today.
A few prime examples of the kind of toxic feminism I am referring to include She-Hulk: Attorney at Law on Disney+, and, with respect to Daisy Ridley, Rey's character from the most recent Star Wars Trilogy. For an example outside Disney, consider the 2019 Charlie's Angels movie, written and directed by Elizabeth Banks. These films all center on women characters embodying a version of feminism that, while seemingly attractive and satisfying in the moment, is ultimately hollow and lackluster, depriving the audience of genuine characters worthy of our investment. None of them has any flaws, undergoes any tangible growth, or exhibits any relatable traits. Not to mention, they are also set in alternative realities where all men are clueless, incompetent, and selfish. Again, an understandable position, but not one that should represent the whole of humanity, as it does in these examples.
Ghostbusters (2016) suffers from this exact issue. It introduces four female characters set in an alternative reality where all men are either stupid or insecure. This does not make for an enduring story, nor does it encourage any clear-headed person to root for the heroes. Being a feminist is a good thing; being anti-men is just as unhealthy and wrongheaded as being anti-woman. Nothing is gained from being just as exclusive, arrogant, and closed-minded as those who continue to cause so much trouble for the rest of us.
In the words of Marcus Aurelius, "The best way to avenge yourself is to not become like the wrongdoer."
Lesson #3
Always Ask Why.
One of my many guilty pleasures in movies is the James Bond film, Tomorrow Never Dies from 1997. While not the best Bond film with Pierce Brosnan in the role, it does have its polished entertainment value, especially with the villain, played delectably well by Jonathan Pryce. In case you don't recall, Pryce plays a wealthy newspaper owner who plots to start a war between England and China to secure exclusive broadcasting rights in the region, so he can achieve total global domination in his own way.
About halfway through the film, Pryce delivers a short monologue in which he glosses over a part of his early career in journalism. In this piece, he mentions his most significant lesson from his editor: the key to a great story is not who, what, when, or where, but why. A story is only worth telling if there is a good reason to tell it.
This applies not only to the reasons behind the story itself, but also to the reasons for producing the story in the first place. The best stories to tell are those driven by the most passion, conviction, and excitement for the art of storytelling and entertainment. While the worst kinds of stories are those that lack all of the above and are only greenlit for cynical motives, such as filling out a balance sheet or securing licence rights.
Incidentally, this was the only motivation for Sony's Amazing Spider-Man movies, starring Andrew Garfield and directed by Mark Webb: Sony wanted nothing more than to ensure they would not lose their rights to Spider-Man to Disney and Marvel, given how financially and critically successful they had become with their Marvel Cinematic Universe. As such, Sony didn't care about the quality of those movies, so long as they were made and released to secure their rights to Spider-Man.
Ghostbusters (2016) had similar motivations. There was no creative, valid, or passionately driven reason for Sony to fork up the cash for this movie, other than to revitalize their classic property for lazy nostalgia dollars. While movie-making is still a business, and making money is an understandable and healthy motivation for telling a story, profit should not overshadow quality, creativity, and passion. If you can't explain your reasons for doing something other than making money, you should seriously reevaluate your idea or abandon it entirely.
Conclusion.
Ghostbusters (2016) is a failure in every possible way. It is a film with too much hubris, too many wrongheaded decisions behind its production, and no real creative or narrative substance. It is a film that was doomed to fail from the moment it began production. This is but one prime example of how not to make a movie; there are many more to explore and learn from, and we will.
Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading.
Happy Halloween!
