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.