Tim Berners-Lee. What a man. The inventor of the internet no doubt had a dream, once. He had a vision, a shimmering, technicoloured dream-coat of a vision, where the world become closer, more connected, wiser, stronger and more tolerant. He hoped that the internet would contribute great things to the evolution of mankind. And, in some respects, his vision has played out well. Consider, if you will, the once unthinkable act of clicking on an image of something online, punching in your bank details, and then having the item delivered to your door within days. Or, if your’re using Hermes, dropped over your back garden gate from a great height.
The trouble is, ol’ Tim’s vision came with a caveat; nightmarish elements of the dream that have crept up on the world while it slept, basking in the warm glow of emails and Amazon. The vision has been soured by some truly awful, despicable things that I will not even utter here. And I’m not talking about the U2 back catalogue. However, the internet has given rise to something that, while nowhere near as horrific as some of the darker elements of the web, is both hilarious and pathetic at the same time: comments feeds on YouTube. Honourable mentions at this point also go to Twitter and Facebook. Comments pages are an almost like an alien planet, bile-filled rage snaking through the inane babble like tree roots, ready to trip up unwary Grandmas who only logged on by accident and ended up sharing a Britain First image. Having the ability to scream and shout into the howling vortex that is the internet has given the world its newest and sometimes most dangerously underestimate form of bullying. Nothing is safe; from seemingly harmless videos of cats hitting other cats while hiding in cupboards to clips of fans singing songs at football matches; all YouTube clips end with someone being appallingly racist or posting adverts for a Nigerian man who wants your bank details to lend money off you for his new property development.
Everything is fair game for comments and opinion. And everybody is clearly entitled to their opinion. However there is a line that gets crossed frequently online, far too frequently for supposedly civilised society. The line is crossed in areas like race, religion, gender, sexuality…it’s an echo chamber of hate and rage; and one imagines some sort of cartoon-like overgrown man-child living in his Mum’s loft, slobbing about and unleashing sexual frustration all over the internet. But here’s the thing: it’s not always that simple. The anonymous nature of the internet means that everybody with a smart phone or a keyboard can log on, find something that they really hate, and simply unload their anger and their scarcely beneath-the-surface issues for the world to see. Twitter accounts are anonymous and full of rage. Facebook claims to have age-restrictions for usage but that’s as flimsy as a Liverpool back four featuring Alberto Moreno and Martin Skrtel. Quite literally, anyone can go online and throw abuse, behind the relative security of a keyboard – which also means that anyone can go online and become the subject of, or the focus of, abuse. The trouble cuts both ways.
Which brings us to the rather pathetic hysteria surrounding the newly-released Ghostbusters reboot. Helmed by Paul Feig and led by his muse, Melissa McCarthy and Kirsten Wigg, the modern-day take on the classic franchise drew overwhelming levels of abuse literally from the moment it was announced. Why? Well, it’s fairly obvious why: it was an all-female cast of ghost-wranglers. I mean, heaven forbid that women might actually lead their own buddy-team flick. it’s only 2016, after all. Many – including, no doubt, those who threw their monkey s*** across the cage floor online – will quickly try to hide their true reasons for their irrational hatred of the reboot by claiming that (and this is hilarious) such a remake would “ruin their childhood”. And in all seriousness, this is one of the main outbursts of sadness that splatter the internet like the nappy of a newborn baby. I mean, really? “Ruin your childhood”? Are you joking?
Ok then. I’ll bite.
Let’s assume then that the hatred of a film that 99% of the planet at the time of writing hasn’t seen is not because of the female leads, but because of the notion that a childhood favourite is being remade. If that’s the case, then why not the same outrage at the remake of The A-Team? Or True Grit? Can you look me in the eye and say with all honesty that you’d be totally fine with a remake of Big Trouble in Little China that featured Kirsten Wigg as Jack Burton? And it’s not as if I’m singling out cult classics here – True Grit earned John Wayne an Oscar when it was originally made. No criticism of the same ferocity has been levelled at any other reboot/remake of any film. Seriously, go online and look. There will always be someone wanting to stick in the knife and twist, but the abuse aimed at the new Ghostbusters is simply beyond the pale. Given that “childhood” classics are being remade all the time, surely there should be some consistency in approach? Did Christian Bale get a continuous volley of hatred heading his way when he started filming Batman Begins? And anyway, how will a reboot “ruin your childhood”? You can simply – and this might come as a revelation to many – not go and watch the film. Amazing notion, isn’t it? If you’re not emotionally developed enough to cope with the idea of women in a film where they aren’t playing a sleeping princess waiting for a prince to randomly wander over and kiss them (Sleeping Beauty is really creepy, when you break it down) then just don’t go to the cinema to watch it. And if you accidentally find yourself staring at the tills in your local Odeon and the usher asks you which film you’d like to see, I’m sure you could muster the syllables required to choose another way to spend 90 minutes with some popcorn.
The only time that something like this has even come close to the same level of ridiculous hyperbole was when Daniel Craig took on the role of James Bond and even then that abuse was over his hair colour. Can you imagine if they cast Gillian Anderson as the new 007? The internet would explode. Which in some ways wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
No, for me, the main cause of the abuse and the vile comments on the likes of Facebook is almost unilaterally due to the fact that the four ‘busters are women. Which means – shock, horror – jokes about women’s stuff! Oh, my god! What are we to do? Isn’t comedy meant to be a men’s club? Or is it only okay for women to lead an ensemble cast when it’s Bridesmaids? I even remember one of the reviews at the time pinned the (really very good) film as “the female Hangover“. Of course, comedy, like any art form, is polarising and subject to opinion. Except modern art, which is garbage. And there are many people in the world, both male and female, who went to see Bridesmaids and didn’t find it funny. And that’s perfectly fine. Of course it is. But to send threats of rape and harm to female actors for simply playing a part in a film (regardless of the anonymity of the internet) based purely on the idea that there will be a reboot with an all-female cast is utterly astonishing. Perhaps it would be wise to consider that, if you are one of those people who cannot contain their petulant misogyny, what would you think if your own daughter or wife come home to announce that they were to head up the lead in a reboot of a much-loved classic aimed at a new generation? Would there be rape threats? or death threats? Or instant dismissal like “it’s going to be s**t” before you’ve even seen it?
I find it baffling that in the modern age human beings still cannot manage to just get along. There has always got to be something that makes people so unbelievably angry over such inconsequential stuff that it’s actually exhausting. McCarthy, Jones, Wigg and McKannon are doing their jobs,. They are actors. They were offered parts, they accepted them, and made the film. So what? If it turns out to be a classic for the modern age, then great. But if it doesn’t, so what? Who cares?
The effort some people have put in to slaughter this film before it has even been released and gone to prove that people will get wound up over anything. There really isn’t any point, folks. Life is too short.
The same thing happens with music. I’d be a liar if I told you I never gritted my teeth in frustration whenever I hear a cover of a Beatles song (barring Oasis’ I Am the Walrus) but ultimately what does it matter? And of course Rolf Harris should have been kept away from a wobble board and Led Zeppelin IV. Although to be fair, there’s plenty of other things that he should have been kept away from too.
My point is that it’s oh, so very easy to use the Internet to vent your anger but there’s really more to life than lashing a comment on YouTube. I’ve been guilty of it myself; getting drawn into needless rows on social media. We all have. But there’s a difference between disagreeing with someone’s politics on Facebook and threatening to kill an actress online or declaring, so very dramatically, that a rebooted film will destroy your childhood.
Seriously, get over yourself. Go watch the film. Or don’t. But if you don’t, don’t pontificate about the quality of the film without seeing it. And remember this: a film won’t ruin your childhood. But as for your adult life, you’re ruining it by being a weird little keyboard warrior.
Reds Under The Bed 