AN OPEN LETTER TO DAN AYKROYD RE: GHOSTBUSTERS 3

Dear Mr. Aykroyd:

First off, I love you. I really do. I can only thank you for having given the world my top-two favorite comedies: The Blues Brothers, and Ghostbusters. No matter what you do in the rest of your career, and no matter how many Yogi Bears you make, it doesn’t matter. It’s because of you that I can’t drive by a strip mall, look to my passenger, and in the flattest voice possible, point at said strip mall and say, “Pier One Imports.” If my passenger is worth a damn, the inevitable response will be, “This place has got everything.”

The trend for the last fifteen years or so has been remakes. And the trend from the last ten has been resurrecting old and established properties for sequels that no one asked for, and the movie-going populace didn’t need. Lord Beard himself proved that you can’t go home again with the abysmal Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Ridley Scott parted audiences like Moses at the Red Sea with his bizarre prequel/not-prequel to Alien with the cinematic oddity Prometheus. Perpetual sourpuss Bruce Willis is willing to turn John McClane into some bald, quiet, bored-looking dude who seriously, in this photo, looks exactly like my father:

His most recent turn in A Good Day to Die Hard resulted in – no hyperbole – one of the worst films I’ve ever seen – and it’s tremendously depressing, seeing as how I also cite the original Die Hard as one of my favorite all-timers.

So, let me just get right to the point: I think Ghostbusters 3 is kind of a bad idea. That’s first thing. Is it possible that it could be as good – or better – than the first film? Of course it’s possible. But is it likely? No. It’s really not. Magic happens with films like that. Cast and crew click. Audiences are at the right place, time, age, mind frame, etc. Ghostbusters plays as well as it ever did, but it couldn’t be done again with the same kind of humor and cast that made it work – not today. Modern audiences today don’t like jokes about Twinkies and weird, weird lines like “dogs and cats living together – MASS HYSTERIA!” They can’t understand the genius absurdity about commands like “If someone asks you if you’re a god, you say YES.” Because audiences today are very dumb. They need cheap and easy jokes about celebrities and Twitter. They need stunt-casting cameos and references to Red Bull. They need “comedies” that spoof other, better comedies. To cater a script to that sensibility is to change everything about the first film that worked and made it special. And this is where we go from "kind of" a bad idea to "emphatically and without question" a terrible idea.

I’ll break it down in the simplest of terms:

You want to make a Ghostbusters 3 that captures the spirit of the original while also attracting younger "hipper" audiences.

The spirit of the original includes the presence of Rick Moranis, Annie Potts, and William Atherton, for starters.

Now, you tell me: can you think, honestly, of any 12-16 year old that has any fucking idea who any of those people are? If you stopped any one of them at the box office as they purchased their tickets for this proposed Ghostbusters 3 and requested they give you their favorite Walter Peck quote, would they have any idea what you were talking about?

No – so why are you trying, dude?

Though I can understand this new "skew everything younger!" approach, I think this idea that these kinds of films need to stick “new blood” and “a younger cast” into the proceedings in order to appeal to the younger demographic (and the majority of your ticket buyers) is kind of piteous and sad. I know film audiences have changed since the 1980s. They’ve gotten younger, more tech savvy, and apparently much easier to please. This can be the only explanation as to why those Epic Movie guys still have any clout whatsoever. Let’s just call it for what it is: “younger” audiences have shitty shitty taste.

I read with interest/disinterest a casting rumor that Emma Stone and Jonah Hill may be joining the long-gestating Ghostbusters 3 in unspecified roles. In theory, I’ve got no qualm with either of these actors. Emma Stone is that rare good actress who actually understands comedy, ironically proven by her spot-on Janine Melnitz impression in the Ghostbusters scene of Zombieland. Plus, she’s a cutie patootie. As for Hill, I’ll admit, even though I wanted to strangle him every moment he was on screen in Super Bad, he’s quite hilarious when he tones it down, and his recent dramatic turns in Money Ball and The Wolf of Wall Street proves he’s got chops.

But whatever potential for laughs and quality I see in these names is quickly eclipsed by one simple realization: I love the Ghostbusters and its admittedly inferior but still solid sequel, because of YOU, and Murray, and Ramis, and Ernie Fucking Hudson. All four of you shared tremendous on-screen chemistry, and all of your different approaches to comedy meshed well and created a rock-solid team. Granted, Bill Murray has since become some sort of demigod for his eccentric behavior and his unwillingness to conform to any kind of standard (plus that really amusing “and no one will ever believe you” urban legend), so you could argue that if audiences had only one reason to be interested in a Ghostbusters 3, it would be because of him. And that’s not to diminish the value that you other three gents would bring to the project, but we have to be realistic. He is the draw. A third film would suck without any one of the four original 'Busters, but it would really suck without Murray. And from what I understand, he seems to have no interest in slipping on that Proton pack for one more go-around.

A nasty rumor circulated a year or so ago that suggested Murray had sent you the proposed Ghostbusters 3 script shredded to bits with a note that said no one wanted to see fat old men chasing ghosts. You told us not to believe he’d do such a thing, so I won’t believe it. A curmudgeon he may be, I don’t see him being that vicious. Besides, he’s kind of wrong. (Just kind of.)

The cynic in me says not to be at all interested in Ghostbusters 3 so long as this “young cast” angle is explored. But, if tomorrow, a new announcement was released saying that all four original ‘Busters were confirmed, and the “young cast” angle was being tossed in favor of a new approach that leaves the focus on the original guys, then the child in me could not help but be excited.

Simply put: Ghostbusters 3 is a risk, but I’d be open to it...if it’s the four original guys – yes, with the inevitable fat and bald and sore-back jokes. That’s fine, I’ll take it. You’ve at least got me interested.

But Ghostbusters 3 with a hipper, younger cast? So during the film one of them can reference Instagram and Egon can say “Insta-what?” and stupid audiences can laugh because OLD?

That’s not something I’m interested in seeing. Not in the least. And don't even get me started on the whole "passing of the torch" thing you've mentioned before, which implies that the Ghostbusters franchise will continue on past Part 3 to feature a bunch of kids in the starring roles, while you original guys take a backseat to them to play the old dudes behind the counter at Ray's Occult or something. Can I just say, right now, fuck that so hard?

Now, who am I to even think I have any say at all? Allow me to dispel any grand illusion I have of myself: I'm a big fucking steaming pile of nobody. I'm some dude who owns the movies on DVD and somewhere has an original poster for the first film. That's...really it. I'm just a fan. Overly protective and perhaps pompous, but, a fan I remain.

I'm just concerned, is all.

Listen, I can understand the temptation right now. Tough love stipulates I say this, and I’m sorry to sound callous: It’s not the '80s anymore. Things aren’t as golden as they used to be. The most high-profile gig you’ve had for a while now has been voicing a CGI bear, plus you’ve got your vodka and aliens. Ramis directs from time to time, and Ernie Hudson, well…he really really needs this. You all need this – I get it. The money, oh I know, it’s just sitting right there in the devil’s briefcase, open and glowing and waiting to be plucked like a virgin on prom night.

And Ghostbusters is that one property that’s all yours, that still has an audience of devouts who care for it and are irrationally thinking any kind of Ghostbusters 3 is a good idea without putting actual thought into what the might be getting. That kind of irrational hope comes bundled with nostalgia and tied with a ribbon of ignorance. "Ghostbusters 3 is a great idea since the first one is awesome and I love it." But the world doesn't work that way. For instance (sorry), Blues Brothers 2000 is a piece of shit. You put a kid in there to mix things up and it sucked hardcore.

Now you want to use multiple kids.

Please don’t do it.

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE REVOLVING-DOOR SHOW RUNNERS OF “SUPERNATURAL”

(Spoilers throughout.)

Dear “Supernatural” et al.,

Die.

Please die.

Get a bad case of low-ratings fever, or a mean inoperable case of fuck-that when the cast realizes it could free itself from the constraints of the CW and move onto feature films.

Years ago, show creator Eric Kripke said:

“I did set out [to] tell a five-season storyline … I have every intention of ending the story with a bang and not drawing it out or watering it down.”

This five-rear run of which he speaks obviously encapsulates Seasons 1 through 5, which tells a complete story – one which grows naturally and organically, from beginning to end. It has a very clear, definitive finale, with a very fucking groan inducing final five seconds, letting you know LOL JK SHOW’S STILL HAPPENING.

For all intents and purposes, the story Kripke wanted to tell WAS told. It had a very defined beginning, middle, and end. Kripke made it very clear that he did not want the show to remain on the air past its freshness date. He did not want it to die a miserable death like “The X-Files” had done – an example he used specifically.

Here to ruin Eric Kripke’s plan is…Eric Kripke:

“That having been said. I’m looking at [season 5] as the last chapter in this particular story. That doesn’t mean there can’t be a new story. ‘Buffy’ did it. ‘The X-Files’ did it. You close a chapter on a big mythology storyline and then you begin a new one.”

AKA..."Now I can buy a beach house for my boat."

"And I was like, 'Make mine out to cash,' and they were like, 'Okay, Jensen.' "

How I wish I could pretend that Sam is dead, in hell, having sacrificed himself for the good of the world. How I wish I could pretend Dean has gone home to Lisa, and her son, and is living a normal life, free from the night work that had destroyed the entire Winchester family for generations back.

How I wish an American, non-HBO-produced show had the class to know a high point when they saw it and ended their show with dignity and respect.

As they say, wish in one hand…

The reason I am writing this all of a sudden is because the CW has just renewed “Supernatural” for a ninth season. For those keeping count, that’s how long “The X-Files” lasted, and the ninth season of that show – probably one of the best shows in the history of television – was a sad, pathetic, lifeless obligation so stifling even David Duchovny removed himself from most of its run.

If I am being honest, I will say this:

Seasons 1 – 5 of “Supernatural” are fucking fantastic. Think of it as one gigantic-ass movie. Every episode was part of a bigger picture, and none of it ever felt superfluous.

Season 6 is…not bad. But the idea of knowing it shouldn’t exist weighs heavily on the new events that transpire. The idea of not entirely abandoning the angel and demons storyline was the only choice to be made. If the show had to continue, it wasn’t a bad choice. And it ends with an admittedly stunning development: Castiel (Misha Collins), now that God has vanished somewhere into the nether regions of the universe, becomes the “new” God.

Whoa. A little stupid, but the kind of stupid that “Supernatural” can pull off with confidence. (They did, after all, successfully pull off a brother-from-another-mother episode.) That promised a pretty interesting Season 7, right?

Well, Season 7 happened – involving metal Langolier-like meatballs, the absence of Castiel, and the completely anti-climatic killing off of Bobby Singer – and I became sick to my stomach.

Season 7 almost immediately shits the bed, ruining the intriguing development of Castiel becoming the new God, by having Brothers Winchester chase Castiel into a lake…who shits out his God powers…which turn into the aforementioned metal meatballs. So…no God Castiel. He then disappears for far too many episodes at a time, leaving the metal meatballs to take the forefront of the season’s conflict.

Have I said metal meatballs enough times for you to realize how awful that is?

METAL MEATBALLS.

"This is cool, right?"

Further, killing off Bobby Singer (the immeasurably cool Jim Beaver) is such an obvious and generic thing to do that Kripke was smart not to have done it in Seasons 1-5 (at least…not permanently). Killing him off would have been just like killing off Walter Skinner from “The X-Files.” It would have been done for nothing but empty shock value. Because it’s smarter and more difficult to keep a supporting character like that around in a genre show and put him to good use, and even put him in danger and find a way for them to escape that danger, without resorting to such shameless tactics.

And yet, in Season 7, he dies ungloriously, becomes an off-screen ghost who moves shit around to confuse the brothers, and then eventually has a completely shoe-horned-in episode where he wanders around an abandoned house filled with other spirits, which then completely rips off the scene from Ghost where Patrick Swayze is taught cool ghost shit from that weird looking dude from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

You see, this allows the show to introduce a new character named Frank, a take on any one of the Lone Gunmen characters from “The X-Files,” whose curmudgeonness is supposed to be instantly hilarious and endearing. But he’s not. He’s just really, really mean. And unlikeable. And if he’s being set up to be Bobby’s replacement, holy shit.

Then there's Charlie (played by Felicia Day), a master hipster computer hacker. She hacks computers, and mm boy, that's what "Supernatural" is all about, ain't it? I remember the community was all abuzz when they announced that Felicia Day would be playing a part in this season. So many questions! "Who will she play?"  "Will her role be re-occurring?"  "Is she a potential love interest?"

I have a question of my own – who the fuck is Felicia Day? I'm not exactly the typical demographic to which CW programming is aimed, but am I that out of touch I have no clue who she is? What am I missing?

And let's not forget D.J. Qualls' appearances as hunter Garth Fitzgerald, about whom no one has ever said, "What a non-irritating character!"

Lastly, Season 7 has the honor of having birthed the hands-down absolute worst episode of "Supernatural" to date – it involves the reappearance of Becky Rosen (the unaging Emily Perkins), Dean, a love spell, and a wedding. Apparently even the episode's writers new this was a stupid idea because its official title is "Season 7, Time for a Wedding."

Fucking ha!

"Metal meatballs, are you serious?"

At this point, I should state that my knowledge of the current-goings on extends as far as the end of Season 7. I have not watched any aired episodes of Season 8, as that’s my style for any show I follow – I wait for the DVD. I’ve read an awful lot of complaints, however, which include an overabundance of flashbacks and some really gimmicky humor.

If, in Season 8, Bobby’s spirit is somehow miraculously reunited with his body (which is a long shot, considering I think he was cremated), his killing could be forgivable. Because as of right now, his death feels completely useless and uninspired.

So, to “Supernatural” et al., I beg you: if Season 9 is a done deal…end the whole fucking bloody mess with its final episode. Put it out of its misery.  Don’t let the newer seasons that suck begin to outnumber the older seasons that were worth a damn. Don’t contribute to the cloud of fart-smelling shows that remain on the air so long that they tarnish the legacy that the earlier show runners worked hard to achieve. You had a great show once. One of the best. One that will likely never achieve the same reputation as “The X-Files” because of its home on the CW and its cast of beautiful boys.

It was us – the fans – who made the show successful. It was us who tuned in, bought the seasons, bought the books, and even contributed to the show's actual mythology (which involves some of that very disturbing Wincest fanfic, from which I, as a fan, would request some distance…some very generous distance).

So do us fans a favor:

“Supernatural” is fifteen-year-old Rover with arthritic hips and one blind eye. Don’t keep poor Rover around out of selfishness because he keeps you happy. Do the right thing. Do what’s best for all of us.

Blow Rover’s fucking head off and focus all your attention on a new puppy.

Thanks to everyone not reading this (because who am I kidding?).

Regards,

The End of Summer

"Is that...?"
"Season 7..."