After 36 long years and many failed attempts – including a Hawaiian surf movie – the ghost with the most is back, as Michael Keaton returns as the belching, slobbering, grotesque polter-pest that is Beetlejuice. It has also been five years since filmmaker Tim Burton last made a movie (his remake of Dumbo).
The director, who burst onto the scene with the likes of the original Beetlejuice and Batman in the 80s, quickly made a name for himself with his dark and expressionist imagery coupled with a quirky sense of whimsical humour and a dash of sentimentality. In the later years of his career however, he seemed to get a bit lost in CG-heavy spectacle, which while made big bucks for Disney, struggled to match the dizzy heights of Burton at his peak.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, then, arrives with layers of expectation. Not only is it a belated sequel to one of Burton’s most beloved movies thats been in various stages of development for over three decades, it also promises something much more in step with the Burton we once knew: practical effects, animatronics, warped set designs and of course a reunion with regular collaborators Keaton, Winona Ryder and Catherine O’Hara.
So, has it been worth the long wait in the afterlife office?
The film picks up with Lydia Deetz (Ryder) all grown up and hosting a successful TV show as a medium for hire. After a family tragedy, Lydia returns home to the creepy house on the hill in Winter River with her estranged teen daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) stepmother Delia (O’Hara) and her producer-fiancee Rory (Justin Theroux). Returning home however soon stirs old demons in the closet, and soon enough a portal to the afterlife is reopened, throwing Lydia and her family into chaos with one mangy trickster demon at the centre of it all.
What is refreshing from the very off is the look and feel of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. It must’ve been tempting at one point to execute all the elaborate effects with the use of more modern technology, but Burton is thankfully more restrained and does most of what he can in camera with the use of his old tools such as stop motion, animatronics and miniatures. It is a big component of what helps this sequel maintain a surprising amount of the spirit of the original, and also is a sign of a filmmaker trying to reconnect with what used to drive and inspire them.
There’s a go-for-broke energy to Burton’s execution here that has felt lacking in some of his more recent offerings, and that wave of energy and excitement gives the film a giddy spirit that possesses you from early on and makes for a very fun time at the movies. It is the most visually playful Burton has been in years, and it’s a genuine joy to see him operating in such a register again set to Danny Elfman’s gothically high-spirited overture
That energy is also very much echoed in the cast, with everybody clearly having a ball in Burton’s spookhouse. Ryder and Ortega operate very much as the heart of the thing, with the story ultimately boiling down to one of mothers and daughters trying to reconnect, with the two sparring well, while O’Hara is often the comedic foil between the two, and stealing every scene she can grab.
As Beetlejuice, Keaton has lost none of his mischievous vitality in the intervening years, slipping back into the Juice’s pinstripes with ease and aplomb, very much remaining slightly more on the fringes and as part of the wider ensemble. It would have been very easy for a sequel to thrust the character much more into the spotlight, but thankfully Keaton and Burton know he’s best used in slapstick and gooey bursts rather than as the centre of attention.
Among the new additions, the most enjoyable is Willem Dafoe as B-movie actor turned afterlife detective Wolf Jackson. Dafoe leans into the comedic potential whole heartedly and fits into Burton’s playground so well that it’s shocking when you realise the two have never collaborated before. Elsewhere, Theroux is suitably smarmy as the new fiancee we love to hate, but the film’s biggest crime is in the use of Monica Bellucci as a scorned ex-lover of Beetlejuice out for soul-sucking revenge. The whole subplot feels like a leftover tangent from a previous iteration of what this sequel might once have been, and sadly Bellucci is not given enough space to suitably vamp and camp in a role that would easily welcome it.
Generally, on a plot level, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is frankly a bit of a shambles, as various tangents crash together in an excuse for wacky and oddball escapades into the afterlife. But arguably Burton has never been a director that has prioritised plot and storytelling mechanics – he’s always been more vibe based – and if anything the shambling plot helps the film feel more akin with earlier Burton, with the tone landing somewhere between the original and the similarly outlandish and screwball Mars Attacks!
It’s all an excuse to play, and it leads to some very fun sequences both in the land of the living and the dead, most notably with this sequel’s version of the Day-O sequence, with a song choice that genuinely surprised me and had me giggling in my seat. And while it may feel chaotic in the moment, the film does well enough to keep its cores of characters at the focus, making sure that when all is said and done it is simply about two characters reconnecting in a manner that is simple yet effective.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is pretty close to a best case scenario for both fans of the original and of Burton himself. It manages to capture more of the manic magic of the first movie than more cautious fans might expect, and that is in large part thanks to the sense of abandon behind the camera, a film-maker getting back in touch with his tools and rediscovering what made them fall in love with the medium in the first place. The results are a silly, wacky, weird and energising return to form. Turns out there’s still plenty of juice in the old ghost yet.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice
Andrew Gaudion
Summary
A silly, wacky, weird sequel which shows that there’s still plenty of juice in the old ghost yet.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is in cinemas from 6th September.
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