Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire

Director: Gil Kenan
Starring: Paul Rudd, Carrie Coon, Finn Wolfhard, McKenna Grace, Kumail Nanjiani, Patton Oswalt, Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, William Atherton, Celeste O' Connor, Logan Kim, Emily Alyn Lind, James Acaster
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★½ (out of ★★★★)   

We've been waiting so long for a true Ghostbusters sequel that when Afterlife finally arrived in 2021, it couldn't help but feel a little anticlimactic. With Jason Reitman taking the directorial reigns from his late father, a total overhaul wasn't just necessary, but inevitable, placing him in the difficult spot of rebooting this property with an entirely new plot and fresh characters. Now after mixed results, it earns another go-around with Frozen Empire, as co-writer Gil Kenan steps in, moving the story back to the city where everything started in 1984. 

Reitman's decision to have the previous sequel focus on an Oklahoma based ghost busting team of Spengler grandchildren aided by their mom and science teacher seemed to please more fans than it offended. So even as legacy cast members were sidelined and its ending felt cribbed from the original, it still had enough moments to wipe away the bad taste of Paul Feig's 2016 attempt at reviving the franchise. But despite a familiarly nostalgic setting that does help alleviate certain creative issues, some of the same challenges persist, with the film struggling to utilize its packed cast in what should be a relatively simple, straightforward story. 

Three years after the previous film's events, Callie Spengler (Carrie Coon) and boyfriend Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) have moved to New York City with her kids Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and Phoebe (McKenna Grace) to help original Ghostbusters Winston (Ernie Hudson) and Ray (Dan Aykroyd) reestablish operations at the old firehouse location. As longtime nemesis turned mayor Walter Peck (William Atherton) looks to shut the business down and jail them for employing an underage Phoebe, she befriends teen ghost Melody (Emily Alyn Lind) in the park, realizing they have more in common than either assumed.

Meanwhile, a man named Nadeem Razmaadi (Kumail Nanjiani) claims to have inherited a strange brass artifact from his grandmother and convinces Ray to purchase it for his curiosities shop. But when the team discovers the mysterious orb houses the evil god Garraka, research reveals his release will lead to the recruitment of an undead army to freeze and conquer Earth. With this demon's sights set on the firehouse's ecto-containment unit, the Ghostbusters will need all hands on deck to save the city and world from complete annihilation. 

Packing up and heading to NYC for the follow-up wasn't just an inspired idea, but a necessary one considering that's where this incarnation of the franchise belonged to begin with. Still, it's hard to begrudge Reitman for continuing the story he built around Egon's family, even if parent/teen team isn't exactly what fans envisioned as the next generation of Ghostbusters. Auxiliary players like Lucky (Celeste O' Connor) and Podcast (Logan Kim) are back, but more than a few others are added, like  returning antagonist Peck and another classic favorite in Janine Melnitz (Annie Potts). That the latter's appearance feels more like a cameo is almost a foregone conclusion given everything Kenan and Reitman try to jam in. 

Of the three originals, Akyroyd inexplicably has the largest, most involved role again, though he does well with what he's given. The underused Hudson and Bill Murray believably slide back into their suits, but it's clear they won't factor in until the climax. This is really about the Spenglers, with a script building on that dynamic and including enough callbacks to please fans, like Slimer and those mischievous Mini-Puft marshmallow men. As for the action sequences, they're mostly on par with its predecessor, which is to say they accomplish what's necessary. 

If this demon Garraka looks and feels like it just stepped out of The Upside Down on Stranger Things, the film's also noticeably overstuffed with supporting characters and excess plot. Patton Oswalt's public librarian and James Acaster's Dr. Lars Pinfield (who oversees Winston's new paranormal research center) are superfluous additions while Kumail Nanjiani delivers the same comedic schtick he's been doing in every other project lately. 

Exiled from the team and quietly rebelling from her family, Phoebe's bond with this droll, sarcastic spirit Melody is the film's most successful attempt at meaningful character development, as the relationship carries both positive and negative repercussions for the sensitive teen. Sincere enough that it's almost too dramatic for Ghostbusters movie, her arc is easily the best thing in the sequel, with much of that due to Grace's believable performance.

This installment comes closer to working by superficially invoking vibes similar to the original two. But it's also full of plusses and minuses that put it at or around the same level as Afterlife, if only slightly higher. The good news is that Reitman stepping aside wasn't the red flag many assumed since it's unlikely he could have done any better with this material than his replacement. Enjoyable enough, Frozen Empire is about as good as we're going to get right now, so at least that's something.         

Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Carrie Coon, Finn Wolfhard, Mckenna Grace, Paul Rudd, Logan Kim, Celeste O' Connor, Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, Sigourney Weaver, Bokeem Woodbine
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

After waiting decades and surviving the ill-fated 2016 reboot, many fans have long wondered what an actual Ghostbusters sequel would look like. Jason Reitman's Ghostbusters: Afterlife isn't exactly that, and the fact it doesn't misrepresent this can be viewed both positively and negatively depending upon your perspective. But the biggest surprise is it doesn't seem much like a Ghostbusters film at all, at least until it eventually tries too hard to be. And if someone were to be blindly seated in front of their screen and asked to speculate what this was, they'd probably say it was the first episode of the upcoming fourth season of Stranger Things. While that inspiration was evident in the trailer, little can prepare you for just how much the film resembles that Netflix series, nearly qualifying as a certified spin-off. 

At first glance, all of this seems like a great idea, if not for the nagging reminder that we've desperately wanted a second Ghostbusters sequel for so long that it almost feels like we're doing this just to get it out of the way. But if anyone can do it, Jason Reitman (son of the original's director, the late Ivan Reitman) would be the ideal candidate, despite it being the kind of escapist entertainment he's consciously avoided dabbling in for much of his career. Within its genre and entering with the barest of expectations, this is a fun, entirely predictable and obvious entry into the franchise's canon, even if you can argue we're not truly given what we came for until the final minutes. And by that point, it tracks so closely with the 1984 film that it could be mistaken for a full-blown remake, only with different actors in the roles. 

If the female-lead 2016 reboot was justifiably criticized for its gimmicky casting (though the real problem was always more about whom they chose and the execution), it's only fair to examine a similar call here by Reitman to cast an all kids team. While the intent is clearly to establish the next generation characters to carry the franchise forward, that's assuming it won't take another thirty years to get another one made and again convince the originals to return, especially the notoriously picky Bill Murray. And what would that film even look like? This doesn't offer many answers, as the casting decision was obviously intended to reel in younger audiences and get this particular project made and released now. Well, that worked, even while this doesn't quite fit the spirit of how the franchise was originally envisioned, or more importantly, where it could have possibly gone.

It's June 2021 and original Ghostbuster Egon Spengler has recently passed away, attacked by a creature at his desolate farmhouse in Summerville, Oklahoma. When his estranged, financially struggling daughter Callie (Carrie Coon) inherits the farm after she and her kids Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and Phoebe (Mckenna Grace) are evicted from their Chicago apartment, they try to acclimate to their new surroundings. While the reclusive Egon was known locally as the "Dirt Farmer," his decaying residence can best be described as post-apocalyptic in appearance, further fueling Callie's resentment toward her late father, whom she feels abandoned her as a child. 

Phoebe adjusts the best, enrolling in a summer school program taught by seismologist Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) and making a new friend named Podcast (Logan Kim). Meanwhile, Trevor becomes infatuated with local drive-in restaurant waitress, Lucky (Celeste O' Connor), prompting him to take a job there. But when Phoebe discovers the farmhouse is haunted and learns more about her grandfather's legacy from Gary, it soon becomes obvious that Egon was onto something huge happening in town. Upon locating his underground lab, equipment and even the dormant Ecto-1 Cadillac, Phoebe, Podcast and Trevor must get to the bottom of what's causing this seismic supernatural activity, bringing them face-to-face with an indescribable evil lurking beneath Summerville's mysterious underground mine. 

Reitman takes his sweet time introducing the characters and situation, putting us far ahead of the central players in terms of grasping this family's current connection to the supernatural occurrences in New York City thirty years prior. It's almost about halfway through the film until those events are openly acknowledged (via YouTube no less) and that kind of works since Reitman already has a knowing and willing fanbase at his disposal that doesn't need anything spelled out for them. Most of the trailer took care of that anyway and he's in the rather fortunate position of being able to postpone the payoff as long as possible, spending most of the time building the story before blowing the roof off in the last act. The  character-centric shenanigans, while predictable and sometimes overly cutesy, is mostly a success, especially when it comes to the more emotional story arc of Callie's bitterness toward her late father and how it's affected the relationship she currently has with daughter Phoebe, an awkward, self-professed science nerd. 

Carrie Coon gives the film's best performance as this single, frazzled mom in over her head and broke, still suffering as a result of her father's tainted legacy, but determined to be the parent she thinks he wasn't. Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan have a really good idea there and when that's front and center is when the picture's at its best, most notably in the final minutes. Grace McKenna is basically the lead, and while it's easy to question the reasoning behind having a tween character carry this, she's very believable as Spengler's quirky, likable granddaughter. The realization of who he was and how it helps her see what she could be is well handled, a standout amongst lesser scenes of the kids busting ghosts. And given screenwriters' recent obsession with podcasting characters, it was only a matter of time before we actually got one named "Podcast." Logan Kim's fun in the part, but when his supporting role is elevated to a co-lead, it's hard to argue that his goofy charms didn't work better in smaller doses. 

It's a bit jarring to see these kids with a proton pack and ghost trap, stepping into such iconic, identifiable roles even if they aren't necessarily being touted as "replacements" for the original actors who are now too up in years to carry this again.  Stranger Things' Finn Wolfhard already briefly wore the uniform on that series so you have to wonder if Reitman cast him as a deliberate attempt to further incorporate the tone of that show. He acquits himself fine, even if the sub-plot involving his crush on Lucky seems thrown in and doesn't really land. Paul Rudd is entertaining as usual in what can best be described as an oddly written science teacher/seismologist character who shows horror movies in class and bonds with the kids, while also trying to woo Callie. There's enough going on with this guy that he comes off as a composite of multiple characters, but Rudd is Rudd, so that helps.

The special effects and CGI are top notch, and while some have complained, the mini Stay Puft marshmallow men are a clever touch that calls back to the '84 film in much the same way a new ghost nicknamed "Muncher" does, making for a suitable Slimer stand-in. While it's not exactly a well kept secret that Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Ernie Hudson all respectively return as Venkman, Stantz and Winston (along with Annie Potts' Ghostbuster secretary Janine Melnitz and Sigourney Weaver's Dana Barrett), the nature and extent of their roles vary some (Weaver's basically non-existent). No one's likely to be disappointed, as the core three are mostly back at the top of their games, with Aykroyd arguably turning in one of his more memorable recent supporting turns as Murray and Hudson smoothly slide back into their parts as if no time has passed. 

Its last act most feels like a Ghostbusters movie, both for better and worse. The performances are a highlight (including a great but uncredited Olivia Wilde as Gozer), as is the emotional payoff involving the late Egon and his family. In terms of providing fan service, Reitman's approach is to basically recreate the original's ending with a new cast, with Coon and Rudd's purpose becoming distractingly familiar. Viewers are put in an odd position when the entirely new touches are hit or miss and what's faithful to the original is almost too slavishly faithful, resulting in another one of those soft reboots that straddles the fence in not wanting to alienate anyone. Stranger Things aside, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is also a noticeable influence, so when you throw some of that in there it's all kind of a mess, albeit not an entirely uninteresting one.

The first Ghostbusters is largely thought of as an action comedy appealing to kids and nostalgic adults with a key difference being that 11 and 12 year-olds weren't the leads. But at least Afterlife prevents embarrassing The Karate Kid remake comparisons by leading with a multi-generational story that elicits high quality work from the young actors despite a questionable conceit. The movie is slick, well made and probably the nearest of near-misses, but it's arguably more effective as a Harold Ramis tribute than a Ghostbusters entry, at least in terms of whatever we now perceive that to mean.    

The Nest

Director: Sean Durkin
Starring: Jude Law, Carrie Coon, Charlie Shotwell, Oona Roche, Adeel Akhtar, Anne Reid, Michael Culkin
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R 

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

The final words of dialogue spoken in Sean Durkin's psychological drama The Nest comes when a character is told under no uncertain terms to just "stop it." Give up. It's over. You're not fooling anyone. It may not be the denouement viewers were looking for or the explosive culmination of this slow burn of a plot, but it's somehow perfect nonetheless. Not entirely but perhaps partially miscategorized as a thriller, the film's a gripping exercise in subverting expectations, as notable for where Durkin chooses not to go with the material than where he does. For a while, we're just not sure where things are headed since the mood and tone lulls us into thinking supernatural elements could be at play or it's traveling down a road resembling that taken by Jack Torrance and family in The Shining.  But as the story progresses, I found myself increasingly relieved that it doesn't, as the performances, setting and characters are too complex for the script to compromise or merely settle into straightforward horror. 

Its creepiest elements hover ominously in the background, which is exactly where they belong. And none of the them have to do with the story's narrative, which fits squarely into the fractured suburban nightmare subgenre occupied by the likes of The Ice Storm, The Swimmer, Ordinary People or American Beauty. Accompanying it is a sinister mood that suggests something bad will inevitably happen, if said event isn't already well underway. We're not completely sure how or what, and that we seem no closer to that answer by the time it concludes will undoubtedly infuriate audiences expecting a spectacularly violent outbreak of some sort.

The true horror centers around a woman's realization her husband's in a permanent state of self-denial, pushing forward with an act even he's having trouble justifying anymore. And now after his most selfish, poorly motivated decision yet, he's taking the entire family down with him. So entrenched in its materialistic "me first" 1980's milieu, you'd almost be convinced these events couldn't take place in any other decade but that. Of course, it could, but things just couldn't be the same given how intrinsically its themes are tied to this particular period. This is Durkin's first film since his heavily praised debut feature Martha Marcy May Marlene introduced the world to Elizabeth Olsen, and proves worth the nine year wait, complete with a shelf life and accompanying discussion capable of lasting far longer.

It's the mid 80's and English-born commodities trader Rory O' Hara (Jude Law) lives with his American wife Allison (Carrie Coon), biological son Ben (Charlie Shotwell) and stepdaughter Samantha (Oona Roche) in an upper middle-class New York suburb. Allison teaches horseback riding while Rory's contemplating an offer from his former employer, Arthur Davis (Michael Culkin), to rejoin him in England to explore new financial ventures. Having already moved and uprooted the kids four times in the past decade, Allison very reluctantly gives in as the family moves into a dark, cavernous mansion in Surrey. With Rory gifting her a new horse and planning the construction of stables on their giant property, the kids are enroll in expensive private schools while he wines and dines associates at posh restaurants with Allison on his arm. 

Despite Rory flaunting the family's apparent wealth, nothing is what it seems, with him spending far more cash than he's taking in and they're soon miserable in a creepy, dimly lit house that's far from a home. Isolated and depressed, they attempt to make the best of it until it's clear Rory doesn't believe there's a problem at all, doubling down on his failed business proposals and blowing money by the truckload. Reckoning with the reality that the man she married is a greedy social climber putting on an elaborate show, Allison will need to decide how much more she can take before his uncontrollable ego decimates them all. 

The more we learn about Rory, the less there is to like, or even tolerate. Whether it's some combination of the move, location, mansion, circumstances or him just generally doing a worse job than usual at playing the role of a loving husband and father, the cold truth is now being fully revealed to Allison. In many of their heated verbal exchanges, she's able to curb his rampage with just a few carefully cutting words. It's a far cry from the film's opening scenes where Rory's making breakfast for the kids, driving them to school and asking about their day. His explanation for their relocation to England ends up being the first big lie we witness and it only worsens from there, as he soon gives up all pretensions of being a responsible husband or parent. The curtain comes down, revealing an image-obsessed narcissist, or as Allison would call it, "a poor kid pretending to be a rich." . 

Questions regarding identity and the stress of living a lie can't help but call attention to Jude Law's most famous role in The Talented Mr. Ripley, leaving little doubt that it had to be a major catalyst behind his casting. And this may be his best work since, with the actor making Rory charming and friendly enough to initially convey that friends and acquaintances would take him at face value. It's when this thin, superficial facade starts to crack that things really get interesting, like when he literally pushes his wife's rebellious daughter Sam out of the perfect portrait he envisions with Allison and "real" son Ben. It's clear Sam has a far different relationship with Rory, yet not necessarily an adversarial one, which makes his apathy toward her all the more infuriating. 

Roche's supporting turn as Sam provides a different take on your typical angsty teen because it's sprinkled with these self-aware moments of remorse and flickers of sympathy for what her parents are going through. Even when falling into drugs and partying, she displays an unexpected protectiveness toward her little brother, whom Charlie Shotwell portrays as completely terrified and withdrawn, clinging to his mother for dear life. It's tough to blame him, especially when, in a nice piece of foreshadowing, even the horse recognizes that this move was a bad idea. 

If there were any lingering doubts of Durkin's intentions, his casting of scene-stealing genre vet Michael Culkin as Rory's boss further emphasizes the film's sinister undercurrents. Rory's hotshot, hyper-aggressive American deal making heavily clashes with Arthur's more conservative approach, leading to a great Culkin speech that completely chops his former underling down to size. Jolted in such a satisfyingly clever way, Rory's entire game drops multiple notches for the film's remainder, making him easy pickings for Allison.   

As his inferiority complex takes center stage, you'd easily be fooled into thinking this is Rory's story when it's really about Allison unchaining herself and the kids from his hubris. Having transitioned from stage to screen in a big way within the past decade, Emmy-nominated Carrie Coon has what's arguably her biggest showcase yet with a lead role unlike anything she's previously tackled. Playing a woman so unlike her husband you wonder how they ever wed, she values work and pragmatism far more than cultivating any kind of image. Having hustled for everything her whole life, many of the best scenes revolve around her character's outward disgust at being paraded around by Rory as a trophy wife, calling out his excessive spending, neglectful selfishness, and in a great final stand, intentionally humiliating him in front of his clients. 

Allison's entire presentation and demeanor drips in the time period, with Coon incorporating it into every subtle signal and gesture. Right down to her clothes and sensibilities, she's a woman trapped in evening gowns and fur coats, quietly seething with anger that her entire identity is being so blatantly disregarded. But Coon never leaves much doubt as to who's really pulling the strings, with Allison letting Rory get all this out of his system before going in for the knockout blow. After impressing with seriously memorable TV turns in Fargo, The Leftovers and The Sinner, Coon manages to level up here without dulling any of the sharper edges that's defined so much of her character work.

Whatever hints were teased from its poster and promotional materials that Durkin would go all in on the 80's aesthetic are followed through ten-fold, from the washed-out, vintage TV sheen of Mátyás Erdély's cinematography, to the music, title treatment, production design, pacing and performances. Nothing here feels like a mere approximation of the era, making it impossible to doubt these characters are living in that decade while still not calling unnecessary attention to it. And all of this converges in a slow, steady stream of escalating discomfort, creating the eerie mood of a story heavily flirting with horror without ever fully crossing the threshold into it.

You know it's gotten bad for Rory when even his estranged mother thinks her son's a total fraud and he  makes a pathetically unconvincing case to a cab driver why he should win "Dad of the Year" for fulfilling the bare minimum of parental responsibility. He even gets a long, defeated Lancaster-like trek back to the mansion, unaware what he'll find beyond the crumbled remnants of the pain he's caused. It doesn't feel like a victory for Allison even when it should, as her one moment of celebratory freedom looks strangely lonely despite appearing to have broken free, at least in a metaphorical sense.  

The ending is the closest the script comes to faintly acknowledging something more supernaturally sinister is afoot, leaving that door slightly open to the possibility, though not by much. Calling the film unresolved or contending it doesn't lead anywhere ignores that maybe it goes exactly where it needs and no further, reveling in the curiosity that comes from speculating what happens to this family after the final credits roll. Rory's ultimate punishment is the realization that everyone's suffered enough for him to be exposed for the world to see, no longer in possession of the upper hand he only imagined holding all along.