BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE – Review

“It’s showtime!”…well more like HBO and Max eventually after this brand spankin’ (careful) new sequel to a much-beloved iconic 1980s cinema classic enjoys a healthy stint at the ole’ multiplex. Yup, it’s now been 36 years since that original comedy/fantasy firmly announced the quirky storytelling style of a former animator (though he’d keep a hand in the medium) after hinting at what to come with that “big adventure” with a much-missed movie hero. But can he, along with a new movie generation and fans of the “first”, really “go home” again (and the “great beyond”)? Now all it’ll take is a theatre ticket, along with proclaiming the main character’s name three times, though to be safe the formal title only repeats it twice with BEETLJUICE BEETLEJUICE. Now what’s that “sniff” sulfur smell…?l

After an airborne trek over scenic Winter River, meshed with that bouncy Danny Elfman circus-style march, we meet up with the all-grown heroine of the first flick, Lydia Dietz (Winona Ryder). She’s “tapping” into her past by hosting a reality TV show called “Ghost House” complete with that night-time spooky green photography. The crew has to stop the tape when she’s distracted by an audience member clad in familiar white and black stripes. Nah, it couldn’t be him. Luckily her producer/ beau Rory (Justin Theroux) is there to help and hand her her phone which is blowing up with calls from her stepmom. The duo rushes off to an art gallery hosting her latest “installation”. Delia (Catherine O’Hara) delivers the news of the big family tragedy. They’ll have to return to their old home, but first, they’ve got to convince Lydia’s estranged daughter from a previous marriage Astrid (Jenna Ortega) to join them. The “double-team” of mom and grandmom get her to head away from her boarding school, but not before Lydia sees those stripes again. Down below (way down), that ole’ demonic “fashionista”, Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton) is a bored “pencil-pusher” managing a team of “shrunken-head” office drones. Ah, but something shakes things up. In the aftermath of a “janitorial accident” his first wife Delores (Monica Bellucci), a “soul-sucker”, has been “re-assembled” and is on her way for a deadly reunion. This also attracts the attention of the head of “afterlife security”, former movie cop Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe). Meanwhile, up above, things are also getting wild as Rory proposes to Lydia at the memorial, insisting that they be married in two days, on Halloween at midnight. The announcement prompts Astrid to dash away into town where she runs into Jeremy (Arthur Conti) a brooding hunky heartthrob. But all is not what it seems as the Dietz family will have to call on that “bio-exorcist” to survive the holiday and put the spirits and “ghosties” back in their place.

After so many years of terrific dramatic roles, I had almost forgotten about Keaton’s formidable comedy “chops”. Well, here’s a big reminder as he truly delivers, not losing a bit of the gravelly delivery nor the superb mugging beneath the makeup. Here he scores by delving into a seminal character from the “first phase” of his career, much as he did by donning the cowl and cape in last year’s ill-fated THE FLASH. Part of that could apply to Ms. Ryder who turns her adored Lydia into a woman of wit and action, returning to the site and source of her teen nightmares, building on her recent resurgence in “Stranger Things”. Speaking of Netflix, kudos for casting the delightfully deadpan “Wednesday” herself, Ortega, as the youngest of the Dietz line. I was getting a bit of a flashback in her early school scenes, but Astrid is more openly passionate over her skepticism of her family’s “gift”. And then there’s the comedic force of nature that is Ms. O’Hara as Delia who mixes her daffy artist spirit with caustic unfiltered wit, verbally giving the others a swift “kick in the past”. Most deserving of such treatment is the movie’s real comedy “find”, the droll devious pompous twit Rory given a snarky sneer (and “man-bun”) by the hilarious Theroux who regurgitates trendy psycho-babble in order to seem hip (you can almost hear Astrid’s eye-rolling). Dafoe appears to be having a blast as the campy action movie star who thinks that he’s the star of another noisy crime thriller while boasting about doing his own stunts (which got him his new gig). Bellucci is sinister and sultry as the seductive stitched-together (a Burton mix of his animated Sally and Corpse Bride with a touch of his Catwoman) siren, while Conti is the teen dream hiding a secret behind his soulful eyes. Another member of the Burton troupe has a nice cameo while newcomer Burn Gorman makes the most of his scant screen time as the verbose and slightly buzzed Father Daman.

Oops, I left the screeching black cat “out of the bag” by revealing that Tim Burton is back behind the camera for his first feature flick in five years. And it could be his most “Burton-y” ever. Perhaps it’s because he’s not adapting a classic kid flick, or a stage musical, or a “loose” biography. I’d go so far as to say this is his best feature film since ED WOOD (which is now 30 years old). He keeps the action zipping along at a brisk pace, but still allows us to savor some striking visuals. At times he seems as giddy as a kid in a candy store since he eschews CGI (used for a bit of touch-up, smoothing, and enhancement) in favor of practical effects (prosthetics, puppetry, and actual shape-shifting sets). It all adds to the lived-in, grungy quality of the afterlife and the wonky world of Winter River. It’s truly a sweet dessert for the eyes, though it veers on gluttony since the story is overstuffed with homage (yes, there’s music but not another Calypso classic) and subplots. There may be enough story for two or more flicks, so you can almost feel as though you’re getting more “bang” (and “boo”) for that ticket price. After a Broadway stage show and a Saturday morning cartoon series (when the TV broadcast networks did that on weekends), the world of the “Juice still feels like the coolest undead underworld place to hang out, even though the surprise of the 88′ original isn’t quite there. Speaking of ‘toons, we even get a nifty flashback told with stop motion figures. So, the off-kilter quirks of Burton, the practical “on-set” VFX, and the comic wizardry of Keaton (not to mention again that Elfman score) add up to a most welcome, though too many years in the making, nostalgic sequel romp, so nice they named him twice, BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE. Now everybody board the Sooouulll Train…

3.5 Out of 4

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE is now playing in theatres everywhere