Given that the past decade of his oeuvre hasn’t been as memorable as his work in yesteryear, it’s sometimes easy to forget how Tim Burton remains a household name in film. In a recent roundtable interview with press outlets, Burton even discussed his brief step away from the medium following his displeasure within the industry. He’s felt constrained by it, like many artists have, even the fame and track record can’t insulate you from studio interference it seems. He claims in that interview that what he made with his subsequent Netflix show Wednesday allowed for a “re-cleanse” and a “re-energize” in his art that’s manifested in his newest movie.
So now with the Autumn spirit in the air and Burton back on the screen, we can see he’s certainly told the truth, at least re-energized with his latest high-speed venture Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Though where and how he directs that energy suggests some trouble with reeling in the Halloween-soaked crazy train he’s constructed.
30-some odd years after sending the world’s best bio-exorcist packing, Lydia Deetz struggles to maintain a relationship with her daughter Astrid, juggling a lucrative career as a paranormal investigator/television host with a strained family life. But as a death in the family brings her back to Winter River where it all began, trouble in the afterlife sends her old enemy Beetlejuice racing to reunite with Lydia to save his skin—or rather, his soul.
Many people will be concerned with how “faithful” or how “good of a sequel” the film is, but Burton wants to riff, no matter how scatterbrained it can turn in the jam sesh. He wants to make something silly and ambitious and cram in all the Beetlejuice ideas and visuals he’s been drafting up throughout the years (even new ones that were thought up on set and on the fly, according to him). It’s fun, fast, and flawed, something I maybe should have predicted given the duo writing the script; you don’t bring in heavyweight hitmakers like Gough and Millar unless you want writers who are crowd-pleasers above all else. People who have the skill to accommodate Burton’s desire to make everything he wants to happen happen. Forget living up to legacy or playing the nostalgia violin; we’re here for the gags and cartoonish visuals. We’re here for the random stop-motion segments and to see ghosts drink drain cleaner for fun. We’re here for the Burton aesthetic.
This time, the cast is certainly funnier to match that ambition, though less compelling than the trio of Ryder, Baldwin, and Davis were in the original. They gave that movie a lot of heart and warmth that is still a delight to watch today, especially juxtaposed against the crude Beetlejuice who spent his share of the runtime spitting in the face of love and general goodness (what a sleazeball, we love that for him). Winona Ryder and Jenna Ortega recapture some of that in their troubled mother-daughter bond, which plays well. Still, everyone in the film is having too much fun with the material to be concerned with emotionally hooking you to the drama of the plot.
Michael Keaton and Catherine O’Hara are the best examples of this since they slip back into their respective roles like a glove and deliver most of the movie’s funniest jokes; solid gold bars of Burton’s comedy are alchemized when either is on screen. Supporting cast like Justin Theroux, but especially Willem Dafoe as “afterlife detective” Wolf Jackson, are a delightful addition that fills out a chorus of irreverent comedic voices that will pull a lot of laughs out of opening weekend audiences.
The whole film, in general, is a showcase of silly horror comedy, replete with some much nastier effects than in the previous film; you get projectile exploding guts, exposed brains, severed limb reassembly montages, and a plethora of walking grotesque sight-gags that push the envelope compared to the original’s afterlife inhabitants. The film’s effects rival those that won the first Beetlejuice accolades at the Oscars, and there are plenty of genuinely amazing practicals here that it would be criminal not to include a “VFX Breakdown” or “Making Of” segment on the home release.
I should mention though, that if you haven’t seen the original Beetlejuice (like fellow Horror Press resident Brennan who only recently tapped into the Burton phenomenon), there are some caveats on how fun it can be. I imagine a lot of the sequel’s charm will be retained for how funny it can get, but it won’t have as much currency in goodwill or nostalgia to buy off its structural problems. The pacing is rushed, most evident by its final act, which leaves no breathing room as it tries to tie up all the loose ends.
The film has a few different plotlines, but instead of feeling weaved together, they end up tangling. Independently, each one is pretty fun: Astrid trying to find love; Lydia herself coping with her weird huckster boyfriend while being haunted; Delia trying to create gauche and goofy art out of her grief; and Beetlejuice trying to dodge a vengeful ex-wife. However, the amount of time allotted to each one causes the movie to jump around and harms the film’s pacing, especially when it rapidly dispatches some of the conflicts and chops up the plots.
The film’s ending feels hurried down the aisle as much as Lydia was during the first film, with a sequence that tows the line between rehashing and reimagining a legendary film scene that you knew they had to reference. It’s a symptom of Burton’s need to make a movie with no strings on him; he will include everything he wants to see, and he will sacrifice that hour and 40-some minute runtime’s balance to do it.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is at points sloppy and overuses some of its many needle drops to play on-the-nose music as a gag one too many times. But it hits its mark in too many areas for me not to find it enjoyable. It doesn’t drag, and even has a decent rewatch factor. It’s a fine way to inaugurate the Fall season for horror, and is sure to be a staple Halloween film, flaws and all going forward.
