I was 10. Everything about this movie appealed to my pre-teen sensibilities: Bad CGI, Christina Ricci and a fart joke. Oh, and the most darling apparition ever. I mean, look at those cute babeh hands.
But then ZOMG, it turns out in the end that Casper was hot. Like, really hawt. Look. Look at that sandy middle-part bowl cut and tell me you do not feel all the feels right now.
OK, so this was the moment I rewound on my VHS player, like, 50 times. Forget being friends with Cute Casper, the clumsy little sprite. I wanted to be more than friends with Hot Casper, the lightly freckled creeper who says things like this.
I mean, what? Go home, Christina Ricci. You're drunk. I'll take it from here. And oh, you're wearing a pirate costume? Is that a sword in your pocket or…
And then he gives her a perfect, chaste little kiss, and that's when I started puberty. Like, right there, full-on. My ovaries were like cannons on the Fourth of July.
So along comes Christina Ricci's dead mom, who's all like, "It's cool. There are flowy red dresses in heaven."
And then, after stroking Bill Pullman's face and enjoying the paranormal breeze as it gently flows through her luminous perm, she's like, "Time's up, Hot Casper. Back to having babeh eyes and babeh hands."
And then Casper totally gets friend-zoned.
So yeah. Now I have a fetish for dead people in pirate costumes. Thanks, Casper! You'll always have a special place in my DVR.
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