Beetlejuice Beetlejuice – Review

Michael Keaton’s mischievous poltergeist of chaos, Beetlejuice, became a cultural icon when Tim Burton (The Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride) unleashed his unbridled creativity on audiences back in 1988. That original concoction of horror, comedy, and bizarre antics not only solidified Burton’s reputation as a filmmaker with a unique vision, but also opened a gateway for a generation to appreciate the allure of horror with a comedic twist.

Years later, the landscape of cinema has evolved, with filmmakers revisiting classics amid a sea of sequels and reboots. Some of these sequels, along the likes of Top Gun: Maverick (2022) and Alien: Romulus (2024) have soared and redefined legacies, while other cash-grab projects such as The Exorcist: Believer (2023) have faltered under the weight of their own nostalgia. Into this mixed bag steps Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. It’s clear from the outset that Burton isn’t chasing the loftiness or the sprawling fantasy of his earlier works; rather, he’s embracing a return to form with a straightforward aim: to have fun with its own absurdity that aligns well with its whimsical antics.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice spins its narrative with a more complicated touch than its predecessor, which, despite its thin story, became a beloved classic thanks to its sharp humour and distinctive aesthetic. Burton’s sequel, packed with callbacks and the expected fan service, sometimes feels crowded and lacking in depth. However, it compensates with bursts of the director’s signature gothic charm and a particularly memorable musical sequence that recaptures the eerie elegance of his best work. While not every attempt at innovation pays off, the film successfully channels the original’s wild, otherworldly vibe, making for an entertaining addition to Burton’s filmography.

The movie’s plot, centres on a now much older Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder, Edward Scissorhands, Stranger Things), Beetlejuice’s intended bride from the first movie, now a former antisocial goth turned paranormal TV host, though the build-up feels somewhat loose and meandering compared to the original’s straightforward premise. However, in true Burton fashion, the mechanics of the plot matter less than the atmosphere it creates. Decades after her initial encounter with the afterlife, Lydia, still sporting her signature spiky fringe, now uses her supernatural abilities to investigate haunted houses. With the help of her overzealous boyfriend/manager Rory (Justin Theroux, The Leftovers, American Psycho), she’s become a minor celebrity, but the past continues to haunt her, both literally and figuratively.

Lydia’s struggles extend beyond mere flashbacks to her teenage encounter with the bio-exorcist Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton, Batman, Spider-Man: Homecoming). Her college-aged daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega, Wednesday, Scream VI) mirrors Lydia’s own angsty teenage self, while the death of Astrid’s father further strains their relationship. Lydia’s stepmother Delia (Catherine O’Hara, Schitt’s Creek, Home Alone) remains as self-absorbed as ever, now on a grander scale. And then there’s the matter of Lydia’s own father, Charles, whose comically gruesome demise feels like a pointed jab at Jeffrey Jones (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off), the sex offender who originally played him.

Burton’s decision to address the actor’s real-life controversies head-on is both bold and problematic. While it feels justified to distance the film from the actor’s past, it also draws unwanted attention to other problematic collaborations, such as Burton’s continued work with Beetlejuice Beetlejuice composer and longtime collaborator Danny Elfman (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness), who has also been sued for sexual harassment. Moreover, the film’s irreverent treatment of Charles’ death, played for laughs despite its narrative significance, creates an odd tonal dissonance. The death serves as the catalyst that brings the characters back to the iconic Maitland/Deetz house, yet its comedic handling undermines any potential for genuine emotional resonance.

Thankfully, the film’s goofy supernatural antics offer a welcome escape from these tonal mismatches. The quintessential Burton-esque charm comes alive with the resurgence of the iconic character Betelgeuse, portrayed once again by Keaton. The film dives into the zany underworld that fans adore, complete with grotesque yet amusing practical effects and a host of eccentric, otherworldly characters. Betelgeuse remains a delightfully deranged spectacle, with Keaton reviving the role with evident glee and a mastery that rivals his portrayal of Batman as his most memorable performance. Still bitter about his thwarted marriage to Lydia, he’s now plagued by his ex-wife Delores (Monica Bellucci, The Matrix Reloaded). As he reminisces about their ‘wedding day’ – a gruesome spectacle described in Italian with subtitles – we’re reminded of the delightfully grotesque humour that made the original so iconic.

But it’s Bellucci’s entrance as the soul-sucking Delores, combining glamour with a touch of the macabre, that steals the show. Resurrected from the afterlife to seek revenge on her ex-husband, she stitches herself back into the storyline as a vision of gothic horror, a testament to Burton’s love for classic monster movies. While her screen time is frustratingly limited, she leaves an indelible mark on the film.

Like Bellucci’s Delores, characters and subplots appear and vanish with little rhyme or reason, serving as mere set dressing or exposition. Yet, each is imbued with a silliness that elicits a chuckle. Willem Dafoe (Spider-Man, Aquaman), for instance, is a delight as the deceased B-movie actor Wolf Jackson, whose obsession with playing a TV cop has led him to form a post-mortem ‘Ghoul Squad’. Dafoe seems to be in his own movie, barely connected to the rest of the narrative, but his infectious enthusiasm is emblematic of the cast’s overall approach.

As for the main cast, O’Hara reprises her role as Delia Deetz, still as whimsically bizarre as ever, demanding that Lydia rediscover the rebellious spirit of her youth. However, this new, subdued Lydia is a far cry from her teenage self, contrasting sharply with the vivid eccentricities of her surroundings. Lydia’s strained relationship with her daughter Astrid also attempts to anchor the emotional core of the story but ends up lost amid the chaotic and more whimsical narrative, culminating in a resolution so hurried it barely makes an impact. 

Ultimately, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a film that knows its strengths and limitations. It doesn’t strive to redefine its legacy or delve into profound depths, but rather, it offers a joyous, visually captivating romp through Burton’s beloved macabre world. For fans seeking a nostalgic, Halloween-season treat, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice delivers just the right amount of spooky fun, reminding us that sometimes, a silly, kooky reunion to a world that continues to charm and delight is all we need to rekindle the magic, even after all these years.