Or: “When Your Movie Has a Ghost, a Puppet, a Nazi Robot, and Still Manages to Be Boring”
Haunted by Bad Ideas
Ghost Chase is a movie that feels like it was conceived during a sugar crash in a Spencer’s Gifts. Directed by Roland Emmerich—yes, Independence Day Emmerich, back before he started blowing up the White House for fun—this 1987 disaster masquerades as a ghost comedy, family adventure, teen buddy flick, haunted mansion mystery, and possibly a PSA against aspiring filmmakers. It fails on all fronts, but at least it fails with style—if your idea of style is 99 minutes of confused tone, awkward puppets, and the ghost of better movies.
It’s like Ghostbusters and The Goonies got together and had an ugly child that was raised by a straight-to-VHS copy of Mannequin.
The Plot: You Wish There Was One
The movie follows a pair of dweebs, Fred and Warren, two wannabe filmmakers in Los Angeles who enter a film contest with a script about a haunted house. That might’ve been fine—except they suddenly inherit an actual haunted mansion from Warren’s long-lost uncle and end up dealing with his “ghost.” And by ghost, I mean puppet. A tiny, wrinkled, bug-eyed muppet in a tuxedo named “Louis” who looks like someone stuffed Paul Williams into a sock and reanimated him with root beer.
Louis, we’re told, is the spirit of Warren’s deceased great-great-uncle or cousin or manservant or something. He farts, snorts, stumbles around, and makes you question every decision that led you to this point in your life.
The Ghost Is a Puppet. The Terror Is Real.
Let’s talk about Louis. The titular ghost. The heart of the film. The soul of your nightmares.
He’s not scary. He’s not funny. He’s not helpful. He’s just… there. Imagine if Yoda had a stroke, shrank three feet, put on a bowtie, and then wandered into an ’80s comedy uninvited. His movements are jerky, his lines are barely audible, and his mere presence turns every scene into a sleep aid.
He’s supposed to be lovable. He comes off like a damp taxidermy project with a bad attitude.
Villains? Yes. Sense? No.
There are also villains—kind of. One of them is a conniving producer who wants the house. Another is a cartoonish Nazi robot for some reason. Yes, really. Just when the movie couldn’t get more tonally unhinged, it throws in a mechanical stormtrooper like someone lost a bet with Mel Brooks. The robot lumbers around menacingly for about five minutes and then vanishes like the plot point it never was.
If you thought Scooby-Doo villains were shallow, wait until you meet these guys. At least the Scooby-Doo crew got closure.
Acting That Deserves an Exorcism
The cast tries. Sort of. Jason Lively, fresh off European Vacation, plays Fred like he’s doing community theater in a coma. Tim McDaniel as Warren seems like a guy who lost a bet and had to read his lines in between bites of dry toast. No one is particularly charismatic, funny, or memorable. Even the romantic subplot feels like two people trying to remember if they met before filming started.
Their chemistry is about as potent as expired NyQuil.
The Music: Synthesizer Hell
The soundtrack sounds like someone programmed a Casio keyboard with their elbows. It’s all warbling synths and “spooky” stingers that belong in an educational video about the dangers of huffing glue. Whatever vibe this movie was going for, the score ensures it dies a slow, electronic death.
Final Thoughts
1 out of 5 haunted sock puppets
Ghost Chase is a film that doesn’t know what it wants to be—except forgotten. It tries to be funny but forgets jokes. It wants to be spooky but forgets scares. It wants to be charming but gives us Louis. It’s the cinematic equivalent of being trapped in an elevator with a clown who won’t stop telling dad jokes about the afterlife.
Watch it only if you’re doing a bad movie marathon and need something to make Troll 2 look like Citizen Kane. Otherwise, let this ghost stay dead.
Forever.
