Oh, glorious day!

Oh, Ghostbusters. You are perfect just the way you are. You start your viewer in reality and guide them with baby steps into the waters of science fiction. Little by little, we are drawn into a universe where it doesn’t seem implausible that a 300-foot marshmallow man can march through the streets of New York.

Another sequel couldn’t recreate that feeling. We’d have to start with the knowledge that not only do ghosts exist, but busting them is a viable career option.

That’s not baby steps into the water. That’s jumping in the deep end. That’s boring.

Thank you, Bill Murray. Your lack of busting makes me feel good.

(Also, I don’t actually believe the 1989 sequel exists)