What Ghostbusters taught me about the film industry
“For perhaps the first time in my life, I looked up at a screen and saw myself.”
Anyone who says they like the new Ghostbusters movie is lying. These were the words a critic offered, straight-faced, in his review video. He wasn’t alone; reviewer upon reviewer rated the film “meh” at best — which probably contributed to my apathy the night I entered a Ghostbusters showing.
Considering the direction this article is going, it probably comes as no surprise that I’d give the film a firm ★★★★☆ — and that I found the critic’s comments bizarre.
But as I mulled over his words, I realized that it’s possible that neither of us were lying.
Retrospectively, Ghostbusters did feel formulaic and predictable. But as I sat in that theatre with my friends, I didn’t expect to feel a sense of recognition.
For perhaps the first time in my life, I looked up at a screen and saw myself. I saw myself in the women; I saw my relationships; and I saw female friendship as I knew it — women supporting each other through the ups and downs, and cracking jokes along the way.
Ghostbusters isn’t among my top 10 favourite films, but it made me experience something incredibly rare — and all the unflattering reviews started to make sense.
Some reviewers are worth writing off. I’m talking about the critics who, from the moment the first teaser trailer dropped, were irked and whined about how unnecessary an all-female reboot was. It was clear from their reviews that they watched the film with eyes that sought to confirm their biases.
To them I say, whatevs.
Setting that camp aside, there’s a good amount of honest reviewers who didn’t particularly enjoy the movie. And I mean, fair enough; I’m not going to jump down your throat for not being into the same stuff as me.
But let’s consider a few things first.
It’s no secret that male film critics greatly outnumber female critics. I mean, 73% of Rotten Tomatoes’ top critics are, in fact, men. This is a trend that echoes through the industry’s many areas.
- In 78% of films, male actors have the most dialogue, which generally means they’re the lead;
- 82% of films have men occupying at least two of the top three roles in a film;
- Even in female-led movies, men tend to do all the talking.
All in all, the film landscape is pretty abysmal for women, whether they’re on the screen or in the audience (and that’s without even considering how things are for non-white actors).
When I look at these numbers, it doesn’t seem surprising that I don’t often see myself and my friendships in films. Ghostbusters seems to be among the outliers of these stats and rules, yet so many sought to squash it before it even had a chance to take off.
A fair number of comedies tend to follow a group of guys through their misadventures, while they crack jokes and live their life. Many of my male friends are drawn to these movies, but for me, they’re unremarkable.
Probably because those movies weren’t made for me to connect with.
There are nuances to all of this. There are men who love Ghostbusters, and there are women who hate it. But the reality is that men have far more opportunities to watch themselves on the silver screen. When you get to do that on a regular basis, it’s probably surprising to hear that’s not the case for me and many other women.
Some argue that things are getting better, that there’s a rise in female leadership in the film industry worth taking note of.
For the sake of my daughters, I hope that’s true. Because no woman should have to wait until they’re 23 to see themselves for the first time.
So to the many men who gave Ghostbusters the good old college try, but still couldn’t get into it: that’s okay. The movie wasn’t made for you. Accept that and move on. And when you see me dressed up as Holtzmann next Halloween, believe me when I say I’m not faking it.
