On Saturday night, I went to the cinema for the first time in god-knows-how-long, handing over the extortionate amount of cash Vue now charges and settling down with a knot in the pit of my stomach and one thought running through my mind.
“Please be good.”
Why? Because I was here to see the new Ghostbusters, which was subjected to huge amounts of criticism, outrage and downright vitriol online after it was announced that the cast would be played by *gasp* women. Legions of whiny men took to the internet to claim that their childhoods would be ruined, apparently sparing no thought for all the girls and women who have grown up accustomed to their gender being sidelined in film since the dawn of Hollywood. I was lucky enough to have a fairly gender-neutral upbringing, but I’ve still put up with years of seeing my gender reflected back at me as one-dimensional, hyper-sexualised secondary characters. I wanted Ghostbusters to be the anti-thesis of all these lazy character profiles, but I also really wanted it to simply be a good film. Continue reading