Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Anyone who hasn’t seen its predecessor shouldn’t bother calling Ghostbusters: Afterlife, a spirited supernatural sequel that emphasizes familiarity over freshness.

Nostalgic fan service seems to be the primary reason that director Jason Reitman (Up in the Air) resurrected the franchise launched by his father, Ivan, with his classic 1984 horror comedy.

Beyond the amusing in-jokes, winking references and actor cameos, however, there’s little to suggest that the concept will spawn the intended new generation of devotees.

From the moment teacher and amateur seismologist Gary (Paul Rudd) exclaims, “There haven’t been any ghosts in 30 years,” you pretty much know what’s going to happen in a dead-end Oklahoma town.

That’s where single mother Callie Spengler (Carrie Coon) arrives from Chicago with her two precocious teenagers — mechanical whiz Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and science nerd Phoebe (McKenna Grace) — to clean out her late father’s dilapidated farmhouse.

Due to financial difficulties however, they must instead move in, which enables the youngsters to become involved in mischief with their classmates, who, like Gary, are puzzled by the recent spate of tremors plaguing the rural landscape.

Meanwhile, Callie and the kids begin to uncover clues about their mysteriously aloof family patriarch, Egon Spengler, linking him to the Ghostbusters that cleaned up New York City decades earlier before disbanding. Could he have known about this latest influx of evil spirits before his death? And did he leave behind enough resources to stop it?

You can understand why Jason Reitman would want to pay homage to one of his family’s signature projects, and offer a poignant tribute to the late Harold Ramis, who played Spengler. In terms of narrative chronology, the filmmaker pretty much ignores the lackluster 1989 sequel and misguided 2016 reboot.

However, the screenplay by Reitman and Gil Kenan (Monster House) feels more like a checklist of touchstones from the original — references to key masters and gatekeepers, marshmallow men and ectoplasm, catchphrases and classic souped-up Cadillacs — without taking the material in any meaningful new direction.

The young cast members are endearing, and Rudd tosses around some potent deadpan zingers. Yet amid the standard-issue teen sleuthing and escalating mayhem, the stakes aren’t heightened to incentivize emotional investment. Themes such as inclusion and family legacies aren’t explored with much depth.

If anything, Ghostbusters: Afterlife reminds us how special the original film was, and how it remains preferable to this latest revival.

Rated PG-13, 124 minutes.