BUSTIN' STILL MAKES ME FEEL GOOD

I was nine years old when I saw the original Ghostbusters. For a while back then, it was my world. Oh, how I loved that film – which seems odd in hindsight when you consider how adult much of its humour is. I think as a kid I didn't even think of it as a comedy. Ghostbusting was a serious business.

My wee girl is now pretty much the same age I was when the first film came out, and we find ourselves with a new, rebooted, female-led version. You may have noticed that this has caused some consternation online, with disproportionately angry men attacking the idea at every opportunity, declaring it sacrilege, an insult and the worst film ever (months before it came out, of course...).

Naturally, all of this embarrassing nonsense made me sympathetic to the notion of a Ghostbusters reboot. As a general rule, I'm pro anything that angers people who use terms like 'feminazi' and 'SJW', or who feel an unhealthy amount of ownership over corporate geek culture. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised by how much fun Ghostbusters 2016 is. It's more overtly comedic than the original, broader and lighter in tone, but has a lot of laughs and thrills, a few effective scares and a strong story. There are also not only pleasing nods to the so-called controversy surrounding the film, but a general metatextual thread relating to the Ghostbusters asserting their legitimacy. The well-balanced main cast are all really strong, especially Kate McKinnon as eccentric and delightful scientist Holtzmann. And the final climactic showdown is ace – dare I say, better than its 1984 counterpart?

Most importantly, the girl and her pal loved it. Stories and ideas go in cycles. Every generation has their Robin Hood, their Tarzan, their Wonder Woman, their Jedi... and now their Ghostbusters. For cultural concepts to be living things, rather than dusty museum pieces, we must be open to kids approaching them on their own terms. Much as I still love Ghostbusters 1984, it's a film very much of its time. It's now more than 30 years old. When I was a kid, films from the 1950s might as well have been from outer space for all they resonated with my contemporary experience. So it saddens me that some fellow ageing geeks are angered – actually angered, for god's sake – by the prospect of the next generation enjoying new iterations of stuff we loved, in ways that are relevant and meaningful to them. My daughter now has Ghostbusters of her own, and that's something to be celebrated.

OF HUMAN (AND AMAZON) BONDAGE

I've recently been quite taken with Azzarello/Chiang's work on Wonder Woman, which led me to stumble across the shot below from The Brave & the Bold, which in turn is pretty clearly a deliberate homage to the J.G. Jones page from The Hiketeia. Both depict Diana as statuesque, physically dominant and imposing, with a foe at her mercy. Both feature a dominated male opponent, helpless, with his hands in the air – one naked on his back (or at least topless), the other face down, eating dirt, dressed in rubber. Maybe it's just me, but I suspect both are pointed references to the not-too-subtle BDSM subtext that characterised the early WW stories by her creator, the psychologist and notorious sexual progressive William Moulton Marston. 

     

Cliff Chiang, The Brave & the Bold #33 (2010)

J.G. Jones, Wonder Woman: The Hiketeia (2002)

In the old days, it used to be the case that Diana lost her powers when she was tied up – yup, bondage was her kryptonite. Conversely, by tying someone else up with her golden lasso, she would remove their ability to tell lies – they would be rendered emotionally naked and vulnerable. She may have lost her weakness long ago, but these themes remain, and the most macho of men – including the Batman – may find themselves helpless beneath her red-and-white bootheel. Make no mistake, this is Wonder Woman as dominatrix.  

This illustrates how WW is a complicated figure in terms of gender politics – historically rooted in BDSM, but no longer bound (literally) by submissive roles, having transcended her origins to become a cultural icon. As an ambassador and warrior from a matriarchal society, she's often regarded as a feminist icon, though one frequently treated as a lust object, both within and outside comics.

It's notable that both of the pages below were scripted and drawn by men, and both are imbued with male gaze to differing extents. Whatever your interpretation of the gender politics in these pages, there's a definite intermingling of feminine empowerment with sexuality here. So is she a fantasy figure of male titillation (albeit of a somewhat kinky kind) or a symbol of female strength? Or both? Are these inspiring, kick-ass images or just one step removed from Robert Crumb's giantess fantasies?