Last week, iTunes announced that it is celebrating the 25th anniversary of the release of Ghostbusters. This it did by renting it out at 99p, as its “Film of the Week”. I had two quite intense and simultaneous responses to this news. The first was sombre. It was, if I may be frank, bordering on maudlin.

“Twenty five years? Twenty-five years? My God, this is worse than when I realised it was ten years since Vogue by Madonna was No 1. I never used to be able to remember things from 25 years ago. I am beginning to have the memory span — the reminiscing capabilities — of an old woman.”

The second response was, thankfully, much brisker. It was: “99p! For the best film ever made? That’s an INSULT! It’s like iTunes saying you can have sex with the Queen for a pound! It won’t stand, by God! IT WON’T STAND!”

But, on reflection, in many ways the two responses kind of merged together in the middle. For the simple truth of the matter is that Ghostbusters is the greatest film ever made — and yet, currently, the world is too scared to admit this. In 2009, if you stood up at a party and spoke factually — Ghostbusters should still be nominated for an Oscar every year, even now — that’s how good it is” — you would probably experience great feelings of squirminess, and embarrassment.

And that is because the generation before us has done an excellent propaganda job on installing Star Wars as the best film ever made, and we — their younger brothers and sisters — never realised how late in the day it was getting. If we’d realised a little sooner that 25 bleeding years had passed, we would have got a hustle on with shooting George Lucas’s overrated, po-faced bundle of space-tat out of the water. As it is, I think we all still thought it was, like, 1992 or something, and there was plenty of time to make the case for Ghostbusters, after we’d got over how good this new Blur album was.

So with the startling jolt of the quarter-century anniversary, the urgency of the task is now revealed. The Great Ghostbusters Campaign must start today. Here. Starting with this inarguable, scientific fact: Ghostbusters is still the most successful comedy film of all time, with a 1984 box-office return of $229.2 million. But this, of course, in turn, makes it the most successful film OF ALL TIME, FULL STOP — given that comedy is the supreme genre, and rules over every other format, such as “serious”, “foreign” or “black and white”.

Of course, there are those who will argue that comedy isn’t the greatest genre. “What art should be about,” they will say, “is revealing exquisite and resonant truths about the human condition.”

Well, to be honest — no it shouldn’t. I mean, it can occasionally, if it wants to; but really, how many penetrating insights into human nature do you need in one lifetime? Two? Three? Once you’ve realised that no one else has a clue what they’re doing, either, and that love can be totally pointless, any further insights into human nature just start getting depressing, really.

On the other hand, what human beings do need is “Things to say”. They need a huge supply of them. Amusing, essentially inconsequential things, which will make as many people in the room as possible feel relaxed and cordial. In this respect, Ghostbusters reveals itself, once again, as the greatest film ever made. When I mentioned this column on Twitter, I had more than 50 suggestions as to what the best line in the film is — nearly all of them useful in everyday life.

“Back off man — I’m a scientist” is the one I find myself using the most often; most recently when the logic in opening a bottle of warm rosé at 3am was brought into question. “Listen — do you smell something?” is equally handy. “I think he can hear you, Ray,” can be utilised whenever you think an indiscreet conversation has been overheard; but, also, when a large animal suddenly looks up, as if it might run towards you, and attack you. Whenever you buy a takeaway, it is traditional to nix all conversation about future plans with the line: “This magnificent feast represents the last of the petty cash.” And there is no more succinct way of explaining why certain table placements would be ill-advised than “Don’t cross the streams”. There’s literally 20 more great lines, but one of them involves a piano, and another needs someone to mention sponges before you can use it.

By comparison, what has Star Wars got? “Luke — I am your father.” I tell you what — you never get to wedge that into conversation. Because if this is the start of the campaign to rightfully install Ghostbusters as the best film of all time, Star Wars is the one that has to be beaten. It is Connors to Ghostbusters Borg.

To those who still deludedly think they prefer Star Wars over Ghostbusters, all I need do is ask you this: you don’t really want to be a Jedi, do you? In a greige cowl, getting off with your sister, without a single gag across three films? I think if you thought about it a little while longer, you’d realise that you’d far rather be a Ghostbuster: a nerd in New York with an unlicensed nuclear accelarator on your back, and a one in four chance of being Bill Murray.

I urge the world to greatly accelerate their acknowledgement of Ghostbusters true canonical placing — for, in this period of uncertainty, terrible things are happening. Last week, the 25th anniversary of the film was marked by a celebrity party attended by, in descending order of fame: Dizzee Rascal, Nikki Grahame from Big Brother 6, DJ Ironik, Dave Berry and Rick Edwards. I know. I’m not trying to be rude but, really, if you’re at that level of fame and someone invites you to a party in honour of something you love, the most effective way to show you care is to stay away.

For the rest of us — the ones who have realised the Great Truth about the Greatest Movie Ever Made — the serious campaigning must start now. Let’s go show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown.

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