I ain’t ’fraid of no sequel

When the limp first trailer of the “Ghostbusters” reboot first hit the internet months ago, whiners whined, haters hated and many went on virtual hissy-fits about their childhood being destroyed with the new film.

But if filmmakers were going to recharge the batteries of a comedy classic, the replacement of the leads with an all-female cast was an interesting choice. The comedic potential of some of the leading ladies of laughs - Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, and small-screen standouts Kate McKinnon, and Leslie Jones - was one that seemed as though it was headed in the right direction.

As game as the ladies are to bust ghosts onscreen, they can’t escape the ghosts of the past, partially because the script from director Paul Feig (“The Heat,” “Bridesmaids”) and Kate Dippold cannot generate enough sharp lines for them to deliver, and partially because the literal past keeps popping by (in the form of Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Annie Potts, Slimer) to remind audiences of the far-funnier original.

In fact, aside from a few chuckles in the opening scene, there is not a single moment that will echo as much as hearing Murray’s Peter Venkman claim: “He slimed me…It feels so funky.”

The online pitchforks will be aimed at the new actresses for this omission, but without an edge to their humor and some stunningly repetitive scenarios, none of the ladies can take the blame here.

Wiig plays Erin Gilbert, a former paranormal expert now trying life anew as a tenured Columbia University professor. She seems utterly shocked that a book she published on ghosts is actually available again online, thanks to her co-writer Abby Yates (played by McCarthy), who is still actively researching the subject with fellow scientist Jillian Holtzmann (played by McKinnon).

The three head out to a reported possession, which gives them enough incentive to open a paranormal investigation group, and hire a dim-bulb slab of beefcake (a game Chris Hemsworth), who, despite being beautiful, seems to possess the intelligence of a spork.

Patty (played by Jones), a local subway worker who professes to know the city’s innards better than any of them, tags along to assist, as the group sets out to investigate a number of paranormal activities throughout the Big Apple.

It leads to a troll-like nerd named Rowan (Neil Casey, possessing none of the charisma of Rick Moranis, whatsoever), who has plans of citywide spiritual dominance. At every step, the group is at odds with the public, from internet commenters slamming their viral videos, to the mayor (played by Andy Garcia) and his lackeys determined to keep order and stave off citywide panic.

And even though we know far more about the backstories of these Ghostbusters, they all seem far less interesting than the original cast. Both Erin and Abby share similar outcast pasts and now work at universities; Jillian seems a bit too aware of her being the “rock-n-roller” scientist; and Patty is the everywoman, but has few lines that land with a comedic punch.

If that was not bad enough, about every 30 minutes or so, the film feels compelled to trot in elements from the original, for no purpose but merely as a reference. Everything from the former cast to the original logo gets wedged into the story as if to stoke the embers of nostalgia. It’s the same thing critics rail on directors Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer for in their lazy references in such atrocities as “Disaster Movie” and “Epic Movie,” but here it is supposed to be a loving homage, despite being little more than a quick “Hey, I remember that from the original.”

The shame is that the reboot’s shortcomings may be misinterpreted to be female-centric, when actually that was the film’s strongest selling point. The real loss with this attempt is that the writers failed to give us a reason to remake this still-revered comedy in the first place.