I hate the determinism of contemporary culture. We know who has won an election based on "exit polls," even though all the polls have not closed. We know that a film is a "bomb" based on one night's receipts. The latter was the fate of Ghost Town, Ricky Gervais' big screen star turn, a film whose word of mouth was silenced by nothing more than the bad press bought by a cool start. Undeterred, stubborn, we marched off to the matinee last weekend: we paid ten bucks each, even though we knew that the second run theatre would have a print within a fortnight. Take that, contemporary culture!
The premise is familiar. Grumpy dentist Bertram Pincus (Gervais) can see dead people, and while they do not want to eat his brain, they really, really need his help. The most persistent of these spooks is played by Greg Kinnear in a complex comedic performance; he is Frank Herlihy, a womanizer whose style is cramped by a speeding bus. The chemistry between Gervais and Kinnear is solid, as the latter convinces the former to intervene and stop the widow Herlihy (played with surprising appeal by Tea Leone) from marrying again. There are charming little touches, as for example when the awkward Pincus is caught wearing the pricetag on the shirt he bought to impress. What is clear is that Gervais makes better those around him: Aasif Mandvi (from The Daily Show) and the wonderful Kristen Wiig (from Saturday Night Live) are polished to a fine shine in supporting roles. In the end, the movie turns on a love triangle that leaves Kinnear's character, deliciously, out in the cold. The other notable point is how appealing Manhattan looks in its depiction here: this film could have been made by the New York tourist bureau.
I will understand, at this point, if you wait to rent Ghost Town, but you would be missing out if you missed it, entirely.
