Reviews
[REVIEW] It’s Showtime: A First-Time-Watch ‘Beetlejuice’ (1988)
Young couple Barbara (Geena Davis) and Adam Maitland (Alec Baldwin) have their staycation cut short when their car crashes into the river and they drown. Nothing will ruin your leisure time like dying horribly. Trapped as ghosts in their own home, they hire an untrustworthy “bio-exorcist” named Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton) to rid them of their house’s newest tenants, the rancid yuppie couple Charles (Jeffrey Jones) and Delia Deetz (Catherine O’Hara), who have brought along Charles’ teenage daughter from a previous marriage, the gloriously goth Lydia (Winona Ryder).
I know it’s bananas that I’ve never seen Beetlejuice before sitting down with the iconic 1988 movie to write this review. However, there is no better time to finally erase that huge sandworm-sized hole in my personal horror canon than Gateway Horror Month here at Horror Press!
For those who, like me, were unaware of the full machinations of the plot until now, here’s a quick breakdown. Young couple Barbara (Geena Davis) and Adam Maitland (Alec Baldwin) have their staycation cut short when their car crashes into the river and they drown. Nothing will ruin your leisure time like dying horribly. Trapped as ghosts in their own home, they hire an untrustworthy “bio-exorcist” named Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton) to rid them of their house’s newest tenants, the rancid yuppie couple Charles (Jeffrey Jones) and Delia Deetz (Catherine O’Hara), who have brought along Charles’ teenage daughter from a previous marriage, the gloriously goth Lydia (Winona Ryder).
Does Beetlejuice Hold Up?
Ultimately, there are two major ways that viewing Beetlejuice for the first time in 2024 can damage the experience. The first is the fact that some of the effects bringing the afterlife to, well, life, just don’t gel with the story being told. Frankly, most of the effects don’t hold up, but that doesn’t really matter most of the time. Combining Tim Burton & Co.’s madcap designs with a chintzy theme park haunted house aesthetic provides an exuberant sensibility that does a lot to smooth over many of the flaws in the execution. However, certain moments – particularly any scenes set in the “limbo” zone ruled by giant sandworms – look too tacky and undernourished to survive much scrutiny.
The second issue, unfortunately, is much more insidious and tougher to integrate with the tone the movie wants to evoke: the title character is rape culture personified. There’s hardly a line, gag, or flick of the eyes from Betelgeuse that isn’t intensely uncomfortable on that level, to the point that I wonder how the upcoming sequel, which will probably scrub that element away in the wake of the #MeToo movement, will have anything left with which to characterize him.
There are certainly ways to approach the character in context that mean you don’t have to write off the movie entirely. It’s a product of its time, depiction does not equal endorsement, etc. Unfortunately, despite Michael Keaton’s committed and energetic performance, the onscreen result is still something that I personally find deeply exhausting. The character is broad and schticky, complete with cartoon noises that go off basically every time he moves. It plays like a latter-era Jim Carrey blended with the fourth-best character from one of those Eddie Murphy movies in which he plays every part. Just like horror, comedy is one of the most subjective genres, but for this particular subject, the sheer amount of flop sweat from an ostensibly comic character turns the movie into a grimly unpleasant slog whenever he’s onscreen.
There is one moment in the movie (where Betelgeuse’s head randomly begins to spin 360 degrees and scream, after which point he asks, “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”) where it clicked, and I finally got the sense of the casually ineffable Gene Wilder Willy Wonka-esque figure he was probably meant to be cutting this whole time. However, nothing after that came even close to matching that one perfect moment. Thankfully, the character is only in fewer than 20 minutes of the movie, but his irritating antics cast a pall over the whole experience, at least for this reviewer.
Is Beetlejuice Good Gateway Horror?
Obviously the Betelgeuse of it all is a huge demerit as far as Beetlejuice being good gateway horror for children to whom you want to deliver important lessons about how to, say, treat women. However, as a horror-comedy in and of itself, the movie delivers solid gateway vibes.
It doesn’t skimp on a certain amount of intensity. I mean, this is a movie that kills off two of its main characters in the first ten minutes and also depicts the aftermath of a variety of grisly deaths. These deaths are presented in such a Tim Burtonified way that the stylization makes them somehow both gentler and more grotesque, which is perfect for gateway horror. It’s like wandering through the aisles of a Halloween store, in the best way possible.
On top of that, the movie is genuinely funny in many ways that don’t even have anything to do with its ookier elements. For instance, there is a hilariously understated scene that doesn’t call attention to itself whatsoever where, quietly in the background, Charles thumbs through a magazine where a subscription card falls into his lap every time he turns a page. There are also huge comic setpieces here too, like the “Day-O” musical number that frankly mystified me, but certainly aims to delight rather than terrify. And obviously, if you get Catherine O’Hara within two miles of any screenplay, you know you’re going to get a memorable comic line reading or twelve.
Should You Watch (Or Rewatch) Beetlejuice?
So, should you watch Beetlejuice? Especially now that the sequel Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is on the horizon? Honestly, yes. I think my response to the movie represents the worst possible reaction any horror fan could have to it, and I still enjoyed it a great deal. So there is a lot of room for people to like it a hell of a lot more than me.
Plus, even setting aside literally everything about the afterlife and Betelgeuse himself, the movie has got miles and miles of effortless, delectable, exquisite style. Never has the real world felt just as dazzling and eye-popping as the realm of the supernatural. Everything Delia wears on her face, head, and body is worth pausing the movie to pore over in detail. Lydia has nearly the same hit rate, and the movie itself reacts to her with sublime reverence, literally having her carried into the frame in her introduction and at one point supplying her with her own in-universe fog machine for a pivotal moment. The house itself is also a glorious bit of design, evoking a childhood fantasy of a small town home, full of knobby bits shooting off into nowhere and architectural structures that simultaneously make no sense and fit in perfectly.
The filmmaking itself is also dazzling and creative, whether you’re getting a fly-on-the-wall perspective that is then revealed to be a literal fly, or seeing the Maitlands digging through a life-sized model cemetery complete with faux grass and particle board. This is a movie that is immaculately designed to within an inch of its life and beyond. And with Tim Burton at the helm, at the height of his powers, it is a scrumptious sight to behold.
I give Beetlejuice (1988) a 6/10.
Reviews
Brooklyn Horror Film Festival 2025: ‘Buffet Infinity’ Review
Within the found footage subgenre exists an even more niche and untapped market. Screen life has slowly overtaken found footage; hardcore fans, like myself, ache for something different. One of the more interesting sub-subgenres of found footage is something that I don’t think has a name yet, so let’s name it here and now. How about…TV-gone-rogue! The TV-gone-rogue subgenre is small. Ghostwatch got the ball rolling for these gone rogue-like films, but there was radio silence for quite some time. It would be Chris LaMartina’s WNUF Halloween Special that really brought this idea back into the limelight. Many filmmakers have tried to make TV-gone-rogue interesting, and many have failed. That is until Simon Glassman stepped onto the scene with Buffet Infinity.
Buffet Infinity: A Chaotic Tale of Westridge
The town (city?) of Westridge is whisked into chaos when the new Buffet Infinity restaurant rolls into town. Local sandwich shop owner Jennifer Avery (Allison Bench) is the first to take the soon-to-be conglomerate to task with increasingly pointed advertisements. Suddenly, local restaurant owners/workers go missing in droves as Buffet Infinity expands into neighboring businesses. Sinkholes, missing cityfolk, quarantines, and mysterious sounds abound, leaving residents to ask one question…who really has the sauce?
On the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival schedule, the header image for Buffet Infinity shows multiple people T-posing and floating in the sky. I was immediately sold. I had no clue what I was getting into, and I didn’t want to know. The film was introduced as “one of the craziest we have this year.” (Slightly paraphrasing.) What was I about to watch? Little did I know, it was about to be an hour and forty minutes of small-town madness.
Writers Allison Bench and Elisia Snyder, and writer-director Simon Glassman, transport viewers into an upside down world of weaponized local ads; a thriving town invaded by the deep pockets of monopolized capitalism. As someone who grew up in a decently sized town, though probably not large enough to be considered a city, there was a tinge of nostalgia that accompanied Buffet Infinity. Westridge feels cozy and intimate, a town where everyone knows your name. It’s a “baked in a buttery flaky crust” town. Sure, they have their McDonald’s and Burger Kings, but the real townsfolk eat at Jennifer’s sandwich shop–local knitting circles murmur about what they think is in Jennifer’s secret sauce. Simply put, Westridge feels like a home that many people like myself grew up in. And it reminds us of a simpler time that’s long gone.
A Unique Blend of Humor and Eldritch Terror
Buffet Infinity hides its horror well. It slowly guides the viewer into a sense of unease. As easily as the creators have you laughing, they have you squirming. The absurdist joy quickly transforms into Eldritch terrors from beyond. Many filmmakers say they’re inspired by the idea of it’s-not-what-you-see that’s scary, but many times it feels performative. Bench, Glassman, and Snyder have crafted a truly special script that edges you with terror and excitement. They constantly push you to the edge of release, and then back away. It’s the Japanese water torture of exposition. And, for me, it works incredibly well.
One of the most important aspects of Buffet Infinity is the over-capitalization of our lives. While the creators tackle this idea in a tongue-in-cheek manner, their message is highly effective. For the most part. This constant tete-a-tete between Buffet Infinity and the locals is highly amusing, but brings a larger conversation to the forefront. The town I grew up in is a shadow of what it once was. And I know many feel the same about the towns they grew up in. I can already hear the moans of people who dislike this film: “Brandon, it’s not that deep.” And I would highly disagree. Buffet Infinity feels like a reflective protest film–a loud and proud middle finger at what we should have said when the Super Walmart put mom and pops out of business.
Sorry, this review has gone off the rails. Let’s reel it back in a bit.
Why Buffet Infinity Redefines Found Footage
Buffet Infinity is a riotous romp, a hilarious horror that goes from zero to 100 pretty damn fast. Each commercial slowly builds on its last and uniquely tells its story. This film sets a new precedent for the TV-gone-rogue subgenre. Not to directly compare, but a film like WNUF Halloween Special (a film I love) uses its commercials as a coda; it’s a separation of what you saw/heard and prepares you for the next movement. Buffet Infinity uses its commercial to create the story. Instead of watching news pieces, then irrelevant commercials, then back to news pieces, Buffet Infinity breaks the mold. Hell, it creates the mold.
As someone who has been dying to see a Welcome to Nightvale film, Buffet Infinity is the closest thing I could ask for. It is full of killer performances (looking at you, Ahmed Ahmed), is well-crafted, and sets a new precedent on an underutilized side of found footage. Buffet Infinity is a full-course meal. I highly suspect that Buffet Infinity will gather the unwavering support that Hundreds of Beavers gathered and will go on to be considered an instant classic of the 2020s.
Reviews
Brooklyn Horror Film Fest 2025: ‘It Needs Eyes’ Review
We are all very much aware of how much time we spend on our phones. More importantly, anyone on the internet can see how younger generations are impacted by being constantly online. So, Zack Ogle and Aaron Pagniano’s new film, It Needs Eyes, is preaching to the choir. However, it adds creepy layers to the conversations many of us are already having today.
It Needs Eyes follows a teen named Rowan (Raquel Lebish) who is moving in with her aunt after a traumatic event. Her aunt Mella (Lydia Fiore) hasn’t spoken to the family in years. So, her relationship with her niece is strained to say the least. However, she has stepped in now that Rowan’s father is in the hospital. Further widening their divide is the fact that Rowan is glued to her phone.
The Internet Is Scary
We see Rowan watching random videos, as she tries to distract herself from her own thoughts while she worries about her father. However, soon, cat videos aren’t doing it for her, and she starts to find extreme videos online. Things escalate to the point that she is watching self-harm videos and clips of people dying. This addiction begins to make it hard for her to connect with the people around her, including her new neighbor and love interest, Alex (Isadora Leiva).
It Needs Eyes has a protagonist that many can relate to. After all, aren’t we all using these smart devices to hide from our own problems? Who among us hasn’t lost an embarrassing amount of hours watching videos and reels? However, because it’s driving in the internet addiction lane, Rowan’s need for content escalates. She needs darker videos in the same way that someone makes the leap into harder drugs. Her journey parallels nicely with her father’s battle with addiction, which is one of the many things Rowan doesn’t seem ready to face.
Addiction and Loneliness are a Deadly Combo
Rowan’s addiction, loneliness, and inability to fully connect with people not on her phone eventually leads her to stumble across the ultimate score. She discovers a woman named Fishtooth (Lola Blanc) who made videos in the 80s and seemingly disappeared. Rowan cannot let this mystery go and soon begins to follow clues that Fishtooth may be closer than she thinks. This is where the creepy mystery thread begins to weave itself around all of the other threads of the film. Before Fishtooth was introduced, I was starting to worry this movie would just be seven fucked up images in a trench coat.
It Needs Eyes is one of those movies you go back and forth on. I loved discussing the themes of it in the bar after the Brooklyn Horror Film Fest screening. I even really dug some of the twisted imagery and topics it manages to tackle. The movie deserves some respect for how it handles so many issues surrounding internet culture without straying too far from its path. If you’re looking for a dark exploration of how the internet is absorbing us and preventing us from being present in our actual lives, this is your movie. It’s an interesting and at times disturbing reminder that we should all unplug more often.


