Beetlejuice (1988)

 

Beetlejuice (1988)

Director: Tim Burton

Stars: Michael Keaton, Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara

Short Review, no spoilers

There’s never a bad time to revisit one of Tim Burton’s best films, but no less so than when a 36 year later sequel is soon to be released.

Full Review (spoilers)

Beetlejuice is one of those peculiar films that were beloved by kids of the ‘80s that were actually pretty adult – certified 15 - but still recorded off the telly at whatever time of day and repeatedly watched thereafter. Naturally the few swears and adult moments of humour were cut out but this didn’t take much away from the experience and in fact, seeing the uncut version in later life only slightly upscaled what was already a blast of a movie.

Who knew Beetlejuice was Batman?! Micheal Keaton shows his capability to be darkly suave in one moment and a filthy nut in another - the ‘Let’s get nuts!’ moment in Batman is a hint – kudos to Tim Burton for recognising it as a director. In Beetlejuice, Keaton is unrecognisably costumed and made-up but unleashed to be at his most comedically manic. As the self-proclaimed ‘bio-exorcist’, he epitomises an excellent villain in a darkly cartoonish celebration of the dead and not quite – he’s rude, naughty, and chaotically rebellious. As fine foils to this however, is cult favourite Geena Davis and also Alec Baldwin - himself nearly unrecognisable by being fair-haired and a serious goof - as a loving couple who are desperate to remove some hideous yuppies from their house. They’re dead by the way, and stuck in some kind of weird purgatory, which is why it becomes an issue.

Another star is an original Burton muse in Winona Ryder, a dark-haired, doe-eyed sweetheart that nevertheless infiltrated Hollywood by way of a rare moment in the ’90s that was less interested in generically and sunnily attractive heroes and heroines. As Lydia, she’s charitably called a little girl by Davis’ character Barbara, even as she drifts gothically around in funereal dress and comments dryly on matters of death and her sense of self as ‘strange and unusual’. Performances are excellent all round, including Catherine O’Hara as Lydia’s stepmother, an ‘artist’ who is overwrought and megalomaniacal even as the commonly held opinion of her ‘work’ is that it is appalling. Husband Charles is in some ways more complex – seemingly desperate for a quieter life, it’s not long however before his own greed for wealth and validation emerges and he spies the opportunities for real estate development in the small town they land themselves in.

The fate of childless couple Adam and Barbara Maitland is really rather sad. We find them very much in love and embarking on a vacation to perfect their house in the country, however they die abruptly in a car accident and have to deal with all that apparently comes with it when you don’t simply go to heaven or hell. Nevertheless, Burton keeps the tempo up and never allows us to dwell too long on the downsides of mortality before charging on to the variously humourous misadventures of their new undead life. With playfully grim jokes and Burton at his creative best in terms of effects, we travel with the Maitlands on their journey through the complications of being ghosts who are sometimes seen but mostly ignored, even as the Deetz family move in and trample their dirty city feet all over the quaint life the couple were building before they were rudely interrupted.

Where the sequel will go narratively is yet to be seen however, any tale of dastardly gentrification by morons couldn’t be more relevant in today’s era as any other. As Charles Deetz declares to his former boss: ‘These people don't know the value of their property, I can buy the whole town‘. A joyful poke at these moneyed types is the wonderful scene when the Maitlands attempt a big scare by possessing the Deetz’s dinner party guests, accompanied by calypso music and a terrifying shrimp starter. Very funny but the cynicism of the invited guests ends up renewing the Deetz’s determination to scrape nothing but a full investment from their purchase. The true ghouls are revealed when the Deetz family and an idiotic hanger-on Otho rabble up the stairs to the attic and speculate on how the Maitlands’ deaths can be capitalised – any possibility of human empathy can just be hung out the window as far as they are concerned…

What none of them count on though is Beetlejuice’s ruthlessness when invited to the fold. They all end up attempting to rely on him to get what they want done however, this rancid, wild card pest turns out to be very difficult to contain. When the Deetz’s manage to get Charles’ ex-boss to the house, Otho performs a séance/exorcism which ends up nearly exterminating the Maitlands, so even Lydia herself turns to Beetlejuice in desperation. Henceforth, more delirious chaos and an almost marriage between the young girl and the fiendish, troublemaking ghost - a deal made to keep him permanently rampaging in the land of the living. After the yuppies are dispensed with circus-style, including Delia caged by her own hideous sculpture and Otho sent screaming in white-suited horror, the Maitlands recover and manage to intervene, rescuing Lydia and sending Beetlejuice to the bureaucratic purgatorial hell that is the living dead waiting room.

A settled compromise has come about by the end with the two families learning to live together in an arrangement that seems to suit everybody. Delia’s sculpting now has inspiration from their recent ordeal, Charles has something to read, and Lydia’s favourite kind of people – dead - take a heartfelt interest in her. In an original version of the script online, Charles reassures Lydia that in a couple of years, the town will be filled with people like them. Fortunately, their supernatural experience teaches them that they don’t have to destroy what came before them to suit their purposes, and can live harmoniously if they restrain their investment developing impulses. Sadly there will be many towns and cities the world over who will wish they had Beetlejuice to call on.