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by Matthew Jacobs
Popular culture is a sanctuary. And given the country’s violent climate at this particular moment, we desperately need some sanctuary. Amid a season of box-office duds that have failed to provide the requisite joy associated with summer blockbusters, the jubilant new female-fronted “Ghostbusters” movie, which opens nationwide this weekend, offers a surefire respite from the hate that surrounds us. Everyone is invited to the party, even Fall Out Boy.
But, living in the age that we do, the ills of society are a mere tweet away. Which brings us, of course, to the blitzkrieg of online misogyny that has swept the entire development, production and promotion of “Ghostbusters,” a harmless reboot unworthy of your Facebook frenemy’s blind vitriol.
If you’re reading this, you’re probably not one of the unstable bros who thinks women starring as fictional paranormal investigators would ruin his childhood. And if you are, it’s unlikely that I, of all people, will be the sensei who magically expands your puny brain. But just in case: This movie has no direct effect on your life whatsoever! You can stay home and enjoy your own proton packs because we don’t want to play with you anyway! Let us have our sanctuary!
It’s remarkable to see a top-tier Hollywood studio ― Sony, in this case ― greenlight a $144 million comedy with four ladies at the center. It shouldn’t be remarkable, though. It should be commonplace. Something that should be equally commonplace? A widespread understanding that men and women ― as well as everyone who does not conform to a static gender identity ― can be funny in the same place, at the same time. New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis said it well in the closing sentence of her favorable “Ghostbusters” review: “Now, if we could just get women and men to be funny together, that would be revolutionary.”
She’s right, because there’s a dearth of gender-blind comedy in popular culture, especially right now. The early days of “Saturday Night Live,” despite being a stomping ground for so many women, were famously mired in sexist backstage politics. Carol Clevelend was effectively a sidekick to the all-male British sextet Monty Python. The sole “created by” credit on “Roseanne” belonged to a male producer, even though the seminal series was based on a character Roseanne Barr originated in her long-running standup act. In Joan Rivers’ 2010 documentary, she commented on an all-star comedy lineup tributing Don Rickles ― almost all of whom were men. Seth MacFarlane was allowed to perform a vile song called “I Saw Your Boobs” while hosting the Oscars, a ceremony whose 88-year history has seen all of two solo female emcees (Whoopi Goldberg and Ellen DeGeneres). I refuse to hyperlink MacFarlane’s performance. Google it. Or better yet, don’t.
Now, we gawk when a project starring or directed by a female breaks any sort of record. It’s wonderful that “Orange Is the New Black” and “Sex and the City,” for example, have been such sharp showcases for women. But squint and you’ll remember that modern history is peppered with comedic endeavors that allow women and men to shine, defying what has become a gendered genre.
On “The Carol Burnett Show,” which predated “SNL” and ran for 11 glorious seasons, Tim Conway and Harvey Korman always appeared to treat Burnett as a monarch, and she them. Before Mike Nichols become one of our most celebrated film directors via 1966’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and 1967’s “The Graduate,” he and Elaine May were a Grammy-winning tit-for-tat improvisational duo with multiple best-selling albums. Today, Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein carry that torch on “Portlandia,” and the cast of “30 Rock” pulled it off for seven low-rated seasons. But comedy that lets men and women thrive equally outside of a romantic or familial context is anomalous. Maya Rudolph and Martin Short just gave it a go with a weekly variety series, but that outdated format isn’t about to shatter barriers.
As the dude-dominated “SNL” became the signature arena for iconoclasm in the 1970s, it seemed to create a ripple effect wherein humor was either male-driven or female-driven ― rarely both. “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” and “Murphy Brown” preached concerted, and much-needed, feminism, but despite solid supporting ensembles, they were character studies. 1980’s “9 to 5” featured Jane Fonda, Dolly Parton and Lily Tomlin seeking revenge on their sexist boss, while 1996’s “The First Wives Club” found Goldie Hawn, Diane Keaton and Bette Middler avenging their duplicitous ex-husbands. The original Ghostbsuters were four fellas troubleshooting the haunted apartment of a damsel in distress, and most of the buddy movies throughout the action-heavy ‘80s and ‘90s featured sparring male pals who carried tacit acknowledgement that lust for the opposite sex would be an impediment to accomplishing tasks (see: “Trading Places,” “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” “Grumpy Old Men.” The list goes on and on and on). “In Living Color” had a few women in its main cast, but the rest comprised a dance troupe called The Fly Girls, demarcating the male headliners and their female backup.
Follow Matthew Jacobs on Twitter: @tarantallegra
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