[Nerdspresso] Taking Another Swig of Beetlejuice

Legacy sequels are all the rage these days. Indiana Jones played with his dial of destiny and Tom Cruise went all maverick. Everything old is new again as Hollywood raids Gen X’s memory banks for the next IP to plunder for fat sequel cash. Not that I’m complaining. Having grown up with these characters, it’s a blast to see them back in the saddle. Just don’t tarnish their memory with a crappy movie (I’m not looking at you, Scream people. Honest). 

When I first heard that Tim Burton and Michael Keaton were reuniting for another serving of Beetlejuice, I thought it was a joke. Why now after almost 40 years? But then I thought it’s probably because aging movie nerds like me would stand in line to see it on opening night. Right? Look, I’m no elite cineaste. Movies are like potato chips to me. I can’t have just one. But don’t make it all about a money grab, okay? Please entertain me, too. I was cautiously optimistic in this case. Could Burton and Keaton conjure up the old magic?

Beetlejuice is such an arcane treasure that it’s worthy of a second chapter. When the first movie appeared in theaters in 1988, it was this odd, curious thing: a quirky movie directed by the guy who made Pee Wee’s Big Adventure starring Mr. Mom in a fright wig. I was a teenager working as a movie theater usher when it came out and none of us knew what to do with this flick. It had the bohunk boyfriend from Working Girl and Brundlefly’s squeeze as a newly dead married couple calling on a “bio-exorcist” to help them rid their love nest of the wacky boho family that had moved in. It was a comedy about ghosts, but who were we gonna call?

So we watched it with no expectations and it charmed the parachute pants off all of us. It was delightfully weird and fabuluously funky. The movie had a very special vibe. We didn’t know at the time that we were watching “a film by Tim Burton.” His trademark style was just emerging. Unlike later films where Burton’s goth nerd sensibilities got drizzled over everything like too much house dressing, Beetlejuice had a wonderful energy that had us all buzzing. It even made Harry Belafonte music cool again!

By the end of the first week, every usher was sweeping up popcorn while singing “The Banana Boat Song.” In fact, we all had the “Day-O” scene timed so we could stand in the back of the theater to watch the sweet madness unfold every single screening. Catherine O’Hara cutting loose with that first outburst still brings a huge smile to my face. When they all get to their feet and gyrate to those Calypso beats, it’s just pure joy.  That bit never gets old. If Burton could work that spell again, I was down for another round of Beetlejuice. 

I was hopeful. Keaton and Burton had made a trio of really decent movies back in the day with Beetlejuice, Batman and Batman Returns. I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. It’s actually hard for Keaton to play a sour note. Even in a clunker, he’s usually golden. Burton, however, has been a little inconsistent the last few years. Too many “reimaginings,” too many from the “mind of Tim Burton” and too few from the heart. I don’t think I’ve really enjoyed one of his flicks since Big Eyes in 2014. And even that one is far from perfect. Could the two of them perform some cinematic alchemy and turn nostalgia into gold?

The sequel kicks off about 30 years later with Lydia Deetz, played again by Winona Ryder, now a minor celebrity thanks to her ability to see the undead. She has leveraged her gifts into a gig investigating haunted houses on TV, but is still plagued by visions of that ghost with the most. A call from her melodramatic artist stepmom Delia (Catherine O’Hara), brings Lydia back to her hometown with her sarcastic teenage spawn in tow. Her daughter, Astrid, is played by Jenna Ortega from Netflix’s Wednesday (another Burton production) in full moody teen mode. She is overshadowed by her more experienced cast members but that’s not such a bad thing.

Lydia is constantly popping anxiety meds under the watchful eye of her boyfriend and manager, the smarmy Rory (Justin Theroux from HBO’s The Leftovers). He has Lydia convinced that she is only haunted by bad memories and not a lascivious supernatural cad in an ill-fitting striped suit. But guess what? Beetlejuice is stalking Lydia from the afterlife and hoping to reconnect. He needs her to help him evade his (literally) soul-sucking ex-wife Delores (Monica Bellucci from The Matrix sequels). 

She is being pursued by undead detective Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe from all kinds of cool movies. Look him up if you don’t know him), who feels Beetlejuice is just the bait he needs to draw her out into the open. Wolf is a big wig with the the afterlife PD, but everything he knows comes from the cop movies he starred in as a C-list actor when he was alive. Master thespian Dafoe has a blast here, shaking off his serious actor persona in a hambone role. He’s a treat, but he doesn’t steal focus from Keaton’s triumphant return as Beetlejuice. 

He effortlessly resurrects his iconic character, reminding you how devilishly entertaining he can be when left unchecked. The entire returning cast (plus Dafoe) is a delight, but Keaton is THE reason to see this flick. He’s demented and spry and charmingly obnoxious. Burton wisely uses him sparingly so you miss him when he’s not onscreen. A little Beetlejuice goes a long way. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice delivers as both a comedy and a sequel, providing some entertaining, outrageous moments while also exhibiting great affection for these characters. 

The story is split between Beetlejuice’s afterlife misadventures, Lydia and Delia’s travails amongst the living, and a tepid subplot with Astrid. All the storylines ultimately converge for a satisfying conclusion, but Astrid’s subplot does feel lifted from Ortega’s Wednesday Addams show. That’s not much of a surprise when you consider that this film is co-written by that show’s creators/producers. Alfred Gough and Miles Millar also helmed Smallville, that legendary Superman prequel show. They have some solid experience with unusual teen tales, but this movie just doesn’t need the detour. We’re here for the grownups. 

I admire Burton and Keaton’s no-holds-barred approach to this film, but it does lack the wacky, manic energy of the original. Beetlejuice was such a weird and wonderful little gem: sweet, goofy, and gothic. Discovering it like we did in 1988, we felt like we had uncovered a Halloween treat in the middle of spring. The sequel is a little glossier and a bit more mean-spirited, but quite gleeful in its ability to make you laugh while also grossing you out. While it’s not as good as the first one, you’ll still want to say Beetlejuice three times once it’s over to see what happens next.