The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 255 Days to go: 255
Movie #122: Ghost
Every once in a while a movie comes out that revitalizes an old song and suddenly kids are into music they’d never go near otherwise. The first time I had a date to a school dance (I had to go outside my school, with one of my friend’s brothers, to find someone willing to dance with me, despite going to every dance ever held at my own school up to that point) “Unchained Melody” was the final song of the night — the slow dance to stir all our romantic longings and promote sloppy make-out sessions. I didn’t make out with my date then — we saved that for the backseat of his sister’s boyfriend’s car during the ride home — but we danced to the song. My first slow dance and my first overly wet kiss at the age of fifteen (a late bloomer, perhaps, but I made up ground quickly after that), and suddenly “Unchained Melody” was the most romantic song I’d ever known and Ghost (a movie I’d liked but not really cared about one way or another before that point) became a touchstone of my adolescence. Memories are weird that way.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve largely replaced that first kiss memory with the memories of much better kisses over the years, but Ghost remains a key symbol of that time. It made pottery wheels sexy, it gave Whoopi Goldberg a consolation Oscar for her supporting role as Oda Mae Brown to make up for losing out on The Color Purple five years earlier, and it gave us all a catchphrase to use for the rest of time. (No, not “ditto.” If you’ve never cocked an eyebrow and told someone, “Molly, you in danger, girl,” we might not have much in common.)
It also had a clear vision of an afterlife and what heaven and hell were like. The representation of hell as having your spirit dragged away, screaming, by encroaching and wailing shadows is just about the most terrifying image of it ever concocted for the screen. The image of heaven, while nice enough with its bright, warm light and silhouettes of people to welcome you, doesn’t carry anywhere near the same weight and visual or psychological impact as the shadow demons. Those things are still scary.
Ghost also gave us “Autumn Sunrise,” the quasi-lesbian canoodling of Molly (Demi Moore — the prettiest crier in human history) and a Sam-(Patrick Swayze)-possessed Oda Mae, plus the realization that Tony Goldwyn (as Carl) was a seriously bad guy long before he started murdering people on Scandal.
And I’ve been known to sing Sam’s version of “I’m Henry the Eighth I Am” many times in the shower. Now that’s a song that should’ve gotten a second life.
Viable Option 