The 8 Least Terrifying Movie Ghosts of All Time

By Rob Bricken in Daily Lists, Movies
Wednesday, Oct. 29 2008 @ 5:08AM

4) Jack Ferriman, Ghost Ship

We’ll give Ghost Ship some credit for kicking things off by slicing an entire ballroom of partygoers in half with a stray wire. The rest of the movie’s a downhill slope, as a crew of easily killed-off salvagers boards an Italian liner that mysteriously vanished back in the ’60s. With most of their demises guaranteed by cliché, Ghost Ship speeds into action-movie territory at the expense of any real scares. The movie conjures up what few memories we have of Virus, and it’s easy to blame the same school of filmmaking that gave us the Resident Evil films. This school tells that any backstory is best conveyed as a music video, one that’s graphic but too MTV-friendly to be scary.

A strangely sedate ghost girl follows the film’s certain-to-survive heroine (ER escapee Julianna Margulies), but the real villain is an otherworldly soul broker who’s posing as Jack Ferriman, a member of the salvage crew (Ferry Man, get it?). In other words, it’s not the ship’s fault that it’s full of ghosts, and, contrary to the movie poster’s skull-faced ship, the ship itself isn’t evil. What a rip-off.

3) Kane and his Minions, Poltergeist III

As with the Jaws franchise, Poltergeist went from a genuinely creepy and highly profitable initial film to an average follow-up and a clunker of a third film. Poltergeist III sadly borrows less from the first flick and more from the second, which retconned in some evil subterranean cult leader named Kane to take the place of the first film’s Native American burial ground. Still, the second film at least had scenes of Craig T. “Coach” Nelson barfing up the new villain’s worm-like form. The third movie loses all of the Poltergeist characters except for Heather “Carol Anne” O’Rourke and the little weird-voiced lady.

The film brings back Kane and his attendant ghosts (yes, poltergeists are close enough), but they simply aren’t memorable, relying on weird fake-outs and weirdly funny moments, such as the scene of our young heroine’s cousin getting pulled into another dimension. And, for a final annoying touch, Tom Skerritt and the rest of the cast can’t just call her Carol.

Aptly enough, Poltergeist III is less interesting than the stories around it. During filming, O’Rourke became the fourth Poltergeist cast member to die, and the movie’s setting, the John Hancock Center in Chicago, has long been the source of ghost stories far more creepy than Poltergeist III.

2) All Thirteen Ghosts, Thir13en Ghosts

The original 13 Ghosts was a campy 1961 flick, remembered mostly for giving audiences special ghost-viewers that made the spirits easier to see (or harder, depending on your faith in the supernatural). The 2001 remake, with its annoying title, has no such enhancements.

We should point out that the specters of Thir13en Ghosts are nicely outfitted in the make-up department and would be frightening in a genuinely scary movie. This isn’t one of those. It’s just a bore that flickers between an unsubtle horror film and some bizarre Disney Channel time-killer. A harried Tony Shalhoub and his children are trapped in his late uncle’s house, a glass-walled deathtrap powered by a ghostly machine. It’s the sort of film incoherent enough to show a thieving lawyer sliced in half, height-wise, early on, and then, 45 minutes later, launch a plot point about how a ghost created out of loving sacrifice could short-circuit Uncle Creepy’s ghost engine.

1) The Cardboard Ted Danson, Three Men and a Baby

No one’s sure who started the rumor, but it spread like a virus through playgrounds and slumber parties everywhere in the late 1980s. A few months after Three Men and a Baby hit home video, just about every kid in America knew that there was a ghost in it. A real ghost, since the movie was a canned little comedy that most kids would otherwise watch once and forget. And it wasn’t just a vague white blur. No, if you watched a closet that Ted Danson’s character and his mother walked in front of, you’d get a darn good look at the lingering spirit of a boy who’d committed suicide in the apartment where the movie was filmed.

This wasn’t some playground legend about pop rocks or microwaved poodles. This was verifiable cinematic fact. The Internet was still in its cocoon and 60 Minutes wasn’t about to cover urban legends, so there was no one to tell children that the movie’s ghost was just a cardboard stand-up of Ted Danson and that the scene was shot on a sound stage. Really, it’s so obvious now; the ghost looks flat and featureless, and without a room of fellow 10-year-olds to share the delusion, what once was unbelievably eerie becomes the most disappointing ghost in movie history.