“Confronting the unknown, conquering your fears, there’s nothing harder.”
When I reviewed Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire earlier this year, I commented on the flack that legacy sequels were getting from certain audiences who feel that exploring a past property is done only as a cash grab and not a genuine effort to continue what came before. While the theory has some validity, there is an exception that exists when it comes to sequels which have been long in the works. The team behind Ghostbusters had been trying for a sequel for decades before Ghostbusters: Afterlife came around, delighting most fans. The same can’t be said for Frozen Empire, which fell right into the category of legacy sequel thanks to its various shortcomings. Now six months later comes Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, itself a long-awaited sequel of the 1988 ghostly comedy. While director Tim Burton and company didn’t go the route of the infamous Hawaii-themed plot that had originally been planned back in the early 90s, what they’ve conjured up allows the movie a chance to escape the legacy sequel label, but just barely.
Following the death of their beloved patriarch, the Deetz family has reconvened back in Winter River. But the grieving process looks to be a bumpy one. Artist Delia (Catherine O’Hara) is hopelessly distraught while paranormal TV host Lydia (Winona Ryder) is trying to balance a relationship with both producer Rory (Justin Theroux) and teenage daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega), who is embarrassed by her mother’s otherworldly bent. When an encounter with the afterlife puts Astrid in danger, however, Lydia finds herself seeking the help of Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton), the mischievous demon who just won’t quit.
As much as fans have been waiting for this sequel, it’s unfortunate that too much of it fails where it should succeed. There’s nothing necessarily bad here, in fact, at its worst, the movie is merely average. The truth is that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice suffers from far too many narrative ideas. What’s frustrating is that although most of them work, none of them are fully fleshed out. This is true in far too many areas of the movie from set pieces to plot moves to the noticeable number of jokes that just don’t land as well as they should. The movie is overstuffed to the point of near exhaustion thanks to an array of subplots and frenzied pacing. Several characters, including Willem Dafoe’s dead private eye, Monica Bellucci’s scorned lover, and Arthur Conti’s guy next door all feel hopelessly shortchanged as well, despite some promising moments given to each of them. However, their limited contributions are only part of the larger problem where Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is concerned overall. Charitably, this is a movie that feels like it was made from a first draft. Uncharitably, it looks like Burton and his team just threw everything to the wall to see what stuck. It’s only fair to say that some of it did, and some of it didn’t.
What does end up sticking, sticks for good reason and helps make Beetlejuice Beetlejuice a definite highlight in Burton’s career. When the movie works, it does so because of the director’s enthusiasm for the material and his chance to go back to a time in his career when his passion was at its most alive. It’s a passion that’s felt in various storytelling points (the ones that are allowed to play out, that is) in which he successfully and lovingly explores the progression of past characters while introducing new ones, allowing all of them to play in his sandbox. A return to the kind of practical effects that helped make him famous also goes a long way. Gone are the horrible green screens which the director relied on far too much in the early 2010s and in their place is a collection of old-school movie trickery fueled by a creativity that results in not only one of the most visually exciting movies of the year but also a luscious recreation of the kind of world first introduced to audiences so long ago. If Burton’s 2012 Dark Shadows adaptation had played out the way Beetlejuice Beetlejuice does in certain areas, namely in its brand of dark whimsy and the love it has for the world that’s being brought to life, its reception would have been far better.
There’s nothing but good things to report from the performance side. All of the returning actors still retain the hold on the characters they made so iconic years before. Keaton is quick and buoyant with the title character, Ryder plays Lydia as unsure and still wary of the outside world, and O’Hara brings the same kind of manic vibrancy to Delia. The trio also mixes in well with the new crop of players. Ortega is a natural fit for the Beetlejuice world and has a shorthand with Ryder that’s just priceless. Theroux proves he should be in more comedies, while elsewhere, Conti brings some groundedness, Dafoe delightfully plays like he’s in a B-movie and Belucci wonderfully camps it up.
For a director who spent the back half of his career enduring simultaneous acclaim and disdain from audiences regardless of what kind of film he created, there’s no disguising that this is a Tim Burton we haven’t seen in quite some time. There’s a feeling of rejuvenation behind the camera, which comes across on the screen even in the elements of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice which don’t outright work. Despite my own misgivings, I liked what Burton offered up, even if it wasn’t exactly worth the wait. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice reminded me of going to a concert for a band I’ve been waiting for most of my life to see. While part of me was looking at the movie critically, I was in far too much awe and disbelief at the fact that I was there witnessing what I was witnessing that I forgot to appreciate it as an experience. It’s only afterward that I can now fully appreciate what Burton was trying to do. Even if it was somewhat hit-and-miss, I’m convinced I’ll have more fun with it the next time around. Maybe the audience will as well.
