It has been 36 years since the original Beetlejuice, but not for lack of trying. As early as 1990, two sequels had already been commissioned to the scripting stage, including one near miss genuinely titled Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian. And while the Ghost With The Most sadly does not wear a hula-skirt in this long anticipated sequel, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice can at times feel like the culmination of these decades of pitches, all squashed together into a single, 100 minute movie.
The most exciting element of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is naturally its starry ensemble of returning players, including director Tim Burton, composer Danny Elfman and most of the original cast (Jeffrey Jones and Alec Baldwin notwithstanding). To the team’s credit, not one among them phones it in; Michael Keaton doesn’t miss a beat slipping back into his potbellied pinstripe suit, and frankly once kitted out in his old wig and prosthetics doesn’t appear to have aged a day.
On the other hand, Winona Ryder’s Lydia Deetz, the child star of the original, has grown up to become a more timid woman than fans may have expected. Her fashion sense hasn’t changed one bit, but this is a jumpier, more vulnerable woman, worn down after years of being haunted by undead apparitions, who seem to pop up everywhere from private bathrooms to school pick-ups. It makes for an almost tragic contrast with the spiky, unfazed teen of Beetlejuice, but that is sort of the point.
Burton’s film is not attempting to bring back his original world as it was, but instead to lean more towards a cartoonish spin on David Lynch’s Twin Peaksrevival, catching us up with characters like Lydia and her absurd stepmother Delia (Catherine O’Hara, who gets all the best lines), while also introducing new complications in the form of Lyda's daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega, whose role wisely avoids ever slipping into Wednesday territory), whose relationship with her anxious, gloomy mother is an ironic match for that between Lydia and Delia in the original. The sequel's first act cultivates a sense that the Deetz family is doomed to live in this state of reversed nostalgia, unable to grow or change for the better due to a trauma spanning 36 years. That is, until the film abruptly drops said trauma back on their doorstep with his demonic ex-wife and a new pal named Bob.
With Beetlejuice comes an array of eye-popping effects, most of which are done practically, including a particularly hideous Chucky-like doll that deserves to be on shelves this Christmas. Also back is Elfman’s score, a return to form for a composer who, like Burton, has had more tepid responses to his works over the past decade or so. As much as Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is an opportunity to bring back Keaton’s green-haired ghoul, it is similarly a comeback for many of the artists involved; a proper labour of love that brings us their collective best work in years.
The one element holding Beetlejuice Beetlejuice back from greatness is the aforementioned story, or lack thereof. In the spirit of the original, there is a remarkable attempt at restraint on the supernatural side of things - Keaton’s screen-time is comparable to his famed 15 minutes in Part 1 - but even then the human plot is wildly scattered. At any one time, there are at least a half-dozen unrelated plates spinning, with a sizeable chunk of the second act cutting between them, teasing us with the question of which will drop first and kick off Burton’s frenzied finale.
That said, the fireworks show is all that the film promises; an exhilarating circus show crashing together its various characters, schemes and quests in a grand comedy of errors not dissimilar to what a Halloween special might’ve looked like on Fawlty Towers. It is a delirious and properly manic showcase for all involved, but one wonders in this modern streaming era if audiences will have the patience to wait for it. This is for the better; the worst version of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was one that overexposed its titular character, and if there's one thing this scattered, nutty sequel isn't, it's a cash grab. Welcome back, Tim Burton. I'll see you at Batman 3.
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