Cast: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara, Justin Theroux, Monica Bellucci, Arthur Conti, with Jenna Ortega, and Willem Dafoe
Genre: Comedy, Fantasy, Horror
Director: Tim Burton
In Irish Cinemas: 6th September 2024
It took 36 years to bring a Beetlejuice sequel to life finally, and the lengthy journey is evident in the film’s plot, which bears the marks of countless script drafts written over the intervening decades. The resulting movie, “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” is packed with extra characters and unnecessary subplots, reflecting the struggle to find a coherent and satisfying way to reunite Michael Keaton’s mischievous, undead trickster with Winona Ryder’s iconic goth medium. Though the screenplay is officially credited to Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, and Seth Grahame-Smith, many more writers contributed to the film’s development over the years, each grappling with the challenge of justifying a return to the peculiar world of Beetlejuice. The original movie didn’t necessarily call for a sequel. Still, Keaton’s unforgettable performance and the movie’s distinctive vision of the afterlife — reminiscent of a wildly imaginative haunted house in a rundown carnival — have lingered in fans’ minds for decades. These enduring elements were enough to push *Beetlejuice Beetlejuice* into production despite the obvious script challenges. And while the story may be awkwardly constructed, those key aspects — Keaton’s performance and the bizarre, carnival-esque afterlife — remain as compelling in 2024 as they were in 1988. Keaton still has the charisma (and the Juice) to power this long-awaited, if uneven, sequel.
Like the original movie, Keaton’s role is more of a catalyst for chaos rather than the main focus. Instead, The narrative shifts its attention to the Deetz family, particularly Lydia, portrayed by Winona Ryder, and her quirky stepmother, Delia, played by Catherine O’Hara. The sequel starts with Lydia on the brink of marrying her manager, Rory, who Justin Theroux characterises as a slick and manipulative figure. Rory takes advantage of Lydia’s unique ability to see and communicate with ghosts, pushing her into the spotlight as the host of a television show centred around haunted houses. This exploitation sets the stage for the ensuing supernatural misadventures.
Lydia struggles with the pressures of fame and is equally hesitant about her relationship with Rory. A second marriage would not ease the tension with her moody teenage daughter, Astrid (played by Jenna Ortega), who is sceptical of Lydia’s paranormal abilities and dismisses the existence of ghosts. Astrid’s father, Lydia’s first husband, passed away before the events of the sequel, adding layers of complexity to their dynamic. On top of these personal challenges, Lydia is haunted by glimpses of Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton), her old adversary from three decades ago. Beetlejuice was the first undead being to coerce her into marriage when she, her stepmother Delia, and her father Charles first moved into their eerie countryside home. The story turns darker when Charles suddenly dies—an event tied to some off-screen reasons. This loss triggers a series of interconnected and somewhat chaotic plotlines. Delia becomes obsessed with honouring Charles’ legacy with a splendid funeral reflecting his importance and her inflated self-image. Meanwhile, Rory pressures Lydia to marry him quickly, just days after the funeral.
Astrid, seeking an escape from her troubled home life, begins to develop feelings for a local boy, Arthur Conti, whom she discovers reading Dostoyevsky in a treehouse. Parallel to these events, an eccentric afterlife detective (played by Willem Dafoe) begins investigating a string of murders linked to Beetlejuice’s vengeful ex-wife (Monica Bellucci), who turns out to be a literal soul-sucker with a vendetta against her former bio-exorcist husband. Despite the potential for these plotlines to interweave into a cohesive story, they essentially function independently, leading to a somewhat disjointed narrative. Many of these subplots could be removed without much impact on the overall story—aside from reducing the screen time of Keaton, whose performance is the standout in the film. While the cast seems to relish the quirky world director Tim Burton has crafted, most of them have little to work with, and both Bellucci and Dafoe disappear for long stretches, making their eventual reappearances feel jarring and almost forgotten.
Unfortunately, the various narrative digressions and additional characters in “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” tend to dilute the effectiveness of the film’s most vital elements. The most compelling aspect remains the dynamic between Lydia and Astra, a relationship that cleverly mirrors Lydia’s tumultuous bond with Delia in the original *Beetlejuice*. This parallel offers a fresh yet familiar take on intergenerational conflicts while exploring the unique connection that both Lydia and Astra share with the mischievous Beetlejuice himself. Despite being older, Michael Keaton effortlessly slips back into the role of Beetlejuice. He appears almost unchanged thanks to his iconic makeup, dishevelled wig, and signature gravelly voice. Keaton still exudes the same frenetic energy that made Beetlejuice one of the most unforgettable characters of the 1980s. His performance is as humorous, bizarre, and unsettling as ever, reminding us why Beetlejuice remains such an enduring figure in cinematic history. Seeing Keaton reprise this role is a delight, and his presence undeniably elevates the film, anchoring it with a sense of continuity and nostalgia.
Where so many of Tim Burton’s heroes are isolated, solitary outsiders, Beetlejuice seems to represent the filmmaker’s unrestrained id. This misfit lashes out at the people instead of hiding away. (Or if he hides away, it’s because someone said his name aloud three times and banished him to a giant model in the attic of an old house.) Beetlejuice’s bizarre mythology of ghosts and monsters doesn’t make a whole lot of sense — and it’s arguably even more confusing in the sequel — but thanks to Burton and his ghoulish imagination, it’s always fun exploring this place, with its nightmarish bureaucracy and hideous denizens caked in macabre prosthetics. (In Beetlejuice, I especially like the magician trapped inside one of his tricks.) The production design by Mark Scruton, with costumes by Colleen Atwood, is jammed with weird creatures, creepy creations, and pitch-black jokes. (Wait until you see how souls make their way from their initial purgatory to “The Great Beyond.”) The eye candy is sweet enough to help you overlook that the early scenes over-explain the plot (did Beetlejuice need an origin story?). In contrast, many later ones leave essential questions unanswered. (The offhanded way the film dispatches the Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis characters from the original Beetlejuice might anger fans.)
It takes nearly an hour—an agonisingly long stretch in a 105-minute film—before “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” truly gets underway and Michael Keaton’s iconic character steps back into the spotlight. However, once Beetlejuice finally enters, the film instantly jolts to life—or, rather, to the afterlife. The abundance of unnecessary characters doesn’t just drag out the runtime; they also crowd the narrative, leaving little room for the movie to delve into fresh ideas. One of the more clever moments in the film is a gag where a character tries to convince Lydia that Beetlejuice is a figment of her imagination—” a construct of your unpacked trauma,” they tell her. For a brief moment, it seems like the film might explore this concept and offer some commentary not just on Lydia’s situation but on the broader trend in horror films over the past 15 years, where unpacked trauma is often at the heart of the story. Unfortunately, the film never fully develops this intriguing idea. Instead, it’s bogged down by its overstuffed cast, including two villains and a slew of quirky sidekicks, leaving little room for meaningful exploration or innovation.
Overall: 6/10
Movie Reviewer
