Wednesday, May 21, 2003

“The Greatest Story Ever Told”

A quick flit through the excellent Internet Movie Database gives a list of what is supposedly the Top 250 movies of all time. It is, in our humble opinion, a huge steaming pile of bollocks. The Godfather? Big load of arse. Citizen Kane? A load of fannying about with an old sled and the focus knob on the camera. That amateur Welles didn’t even bother filming it in colour! This list of shoddy film-making, acting and pisspoor quality production is only notable for its absences.

Citizen Kane
Citizen Kane: Citizen Arse, more like


Where, for crying out loud, is “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure?” And “Wayne’s World”? Did Mike Myers die in vain? And bugger me rigid, where in the name of all that is holy is “Jesus Christ: Vampire Hunter”? This list is a sham and a scandal, with “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” included at no.52 just to throw us off the scent of an official cover-up.

So, what, we hear you ask, is the real greatest film of all time?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Ghostbusters.

Let’s face it, it’s got killer plot, it’s got Bill Murray at his sarcastic best, it’s got the End of the World (almost), it’s got a levitating Sigourney Weaver, a giant marshmallow man, and perhaps the greatest film gag of all time:

Dr. Raymond Stantz: Everything was fine, until dickless here cut off the power grid!
Mayor: Is that true?
Dr. Peter Venkman: Yes, Your Honour, this man has no dick.


Genius. No other movie comes close. The day someone opens a fridge door in Casablanca and there’s a whole temple arrangement with a demon shouting “ZUUL!” inside is the day I drop my bacon sarnie. An no-one, repeat no-one has ever stood at a pub urinal with several drunken mates shouting “Don’t cross the streams! Don’t cross the streams!” as a result of watching Schindler’s List, which shows up Spielberg as the slacker that he is.

Let us not forget the theme tune, which I bet you’re singing in your head RIGHT NOW. Amadeus, one of IMDB’s so-called “great movies” had to get Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - a dead guy - to do their music, and there was not one decent dance beat, bassline or sing-a-long “I’m not afraid of no ghost!” to be heard. An utter shambles. Ray Parker Jr was very much alive when he ripped the tune off Huey Lewis. Mozart wouldn’t have understood a twelve inch dance remix if it came along and slapped him in the face.

And Orson Welles take note, Ghostbusters made rather more money at the box office than your so-called “classic” Citizen Kane, and we are yet to see Citizen Kane II: The Wrath of Randolph Hearst. You’ll end up doing the Transformers movie, you mark my words.

What makes this film oh-so special? The storyline, the cutting edge effects, the high comedy? Wrong, wrong, wrongity-wrong. If you ask us, what sets it apart from the pack is that Ghostbusters is just another slice of everyday life in New York City:

Dr. Peter Venkman: This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions!
Mayor: What do you mean "biblical"?
Dr. Raymond Stantz: What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor. Real wrath of God type stuff! Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!
Dr. Egon Spengler: Forty years of darkness, earthquakes, and volcanos!
Winston Zeddemore: The dead rising from the grave!
Dr. Peter Venkman: Human sacrifices, dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!


It could happen. As a matter of fact, it’s probably happening right now.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Ghostbusters. The greatest film in the world ...ever ever ever.

Soon: The Ferrero Rocher “Ambassador’s Balls” ad - taking the advertising industry by the scruff of the neck and shaking it until it screams - an in depth analysis.

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