For September, Horror Press wanted to look into the world of gateway horror. Those films that can capture the hearts of young filmgoers or those who get into horror at a later age. There are a plethora of films that fall under the category of ‘gateway’ horror, but what are they? To start, it felt important to look at an animated horror film loved by genre fans of all ages. Even though stop-motion, claymation, and animation films don’t do the trick for me, there’s no getting around the fact Coraline is a truly impressive film. (Author’s note: after getting into the process of writing this, and realizing who wrote the source material, there’s quite a sour taste in my mouth.)

After moving to a new secluded house, with a whacky cast of characters, Coraline (Dakota Fanning) finds herself isolated and [seemingly] on her own. On one particularly drab day, Coraline is transported to a magical world, where she is the star. Her new parents pay attention to her, and Wybie (Robert Bailey Jr.) joins her in her adventures; things seem too good to be true. And they are! Coraline soon finds herself in a battle of life and death. Or is this all just a figment of her overactive and isolated imagination?

Coraline is fascinating in a myriad of ways. It can be straightforwardly viewed and taken at face value or dissected frame by frame to reveal Coraline may be in a simulation! I say that as a lark, but there are countless theory videos on Coraline, including one that posits the question of a possible simulation. Many people, much smarter than me, have dug their master’s degree and doctorate brains into the spiderweb of theories that lurk below the surface. While I don’t have any groundbreaking new theories for Coraline, I do think it can be dissected as a gateway horror film.

The biggest idea that comes forth in Coraline is the idea of perspective. Coraline finds herself longing for a connection of any sort. She’s forced to move to this new decrepit house. The walls are bare and in disrepair, her parents are working on individual projects, and Coraline is tasked with *checks notes* counting the windows. It’s easy to understand why Coraline is frustrated with her current lot in life. Though as someone who grew up with parents who advocated for a “back when the streetlights turn on” type of childhood, part of me is jealous that Coraline didn’t explore the wooded areas around her house. But that point is moot.

By the finale, after Coraline has conquered The Bedlam/The Other Mother (Teri Hatcher), she’s transported back to her world where things seem to be better. Whether or not what Coraline went through is real doesn’t matter. What matters is the lesson(s) she learned along the way. The main lesson is perspective. Things aren’t necessarily better by the film’s end, but it’s how Coraline perceives the world. Throughout Coraline, she is completely all about herself. Everything must revolve around her and what she wants. It’s not until her triumph over evil, refusing to conform with the button-eyes, that she realizes other people matter, too.

Coraline is visually appealing in a way no stop-motion film has been for me before. It balances the visual horror with whimsy and charm. One of my favorite aspects is how a film like this appeals to such a wide array of demographics. I didn’t stumble upon this movie until about two years ago and I was truly upset I hadn’t seen it in 2009. Would it have changed my life if I did? Probably not. But something like Coraline would have piqued my interest to dive into more stop-motion horror films.

If you want to introduce a younger family member to horror, Coraline is a must-watch film. It’s not too childish in any aspect, but it still works as a film for kids. Very few films can do both and succeed. The films that do must be held in high regard, and Coraline is a one-of-a-kind film.

Hopefully, the Neil Gaiman stuff doesn’t tarnish the legacy of it.

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.