Dir. Jerry Zucker, US, 1990, 128 mins
Cast: Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, Whoopi Goldberg, Tony Goldwyn, Rick Aviles
Review by Jean Lynch
Ah, Ghost. I remember going to see this when hubby and I were first a-courting, and it’s timeless ‘Unchained Melody’ theme song was the first dance at our wedding. Just a little aside there, one story amongst many, as to how the film manages to catch a misty eye.
A huge hit worldwide, Ghost had it all – a heartbreaking love story, riotously funny performance from Whoopi Goldberg, a mystery thriller race against time, and a chokingly tear-inducing climax.
Patrick Swayze is Sam Wheat. He and partner Molly (Moore), a sculptor, have just moved in to a great apartment and are very much in love – as so tastefully depicted in the much-parodied potters wheel love scene – but Sam has a sense of foreboding. Watching the television he ponders about death to Molly, ‘wipeout’ – all over, just like that.
Unfortunately, Sam has reason to be worried. One night, down a dark alleyway, a dishevelled man pulls a gun on them and shoots. Sam unsuccessfully gives chase and then returns to Molly to find – himself. Dead. In Molly’s lap.
Sam now has to stay around, ghostly heart breaking at the sight of Molly breaking her human one, and unable to communicate with her. Luckily, charlatan psychic Oda Mae Brown (Goldberg, in an Oscar-winning performance) suddenly finds that she can communicate with the dead after all – well, with one of them at least, and that’s Sam. After being serenaded with ‘I’m Henry the Eighth I am’ to the wee small hours by Sam, she reluctantly agrees to help him. What they discover is that Sam’s death was not attributable to some random mugging, but connected to some financial figures he was investigating at work – something friend Carl (Goldwyn) knows a little more about. Suddenly, this isn’t just about saving Molly’s heart, but her very life…
Ghost deserves to be called much more than a romantic comedy, although it’s that too. This is a story which touches our innermost being, and we truly feel for Sam in his attempts to protect Molly, and ache for the way in which he cannot do so in the flesh, or make her realise that he’s there. Goldberg is a tremendous intermediary between the two, a woman who is being forced to confront her self and become – gulp! – nice. The handing over of the cheque – ‘this is blood money, I was killed for this’ says Sam – to charity – “to a NUN???!!!” – is painfully funny to watch as Oda Mae wrestles with her higher self.
But it’s those final scenes which elevate Ghost above the run-of-the mill. Sam taking over Oda Mae’s body in order to hold and kiss Molly is very well orchestrated – after all, do we really want to see Demi and Whoopi in a liplock – and the moments in which Molly also sees Sam I defy anyone to keep a dry eye. Ghost is the most unashamedly sentimental film imaginable but it’s just the right side of nauseating and somehow manages to touch a part of us that we otherwise keep very well hidden – our soul.
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