Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Review

Review: Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

I SEE TIM BURTON HAS MADE HIS FILM AGAIN is what I would usually open with as a stock introduction to reviewing any of his films. But this time it’s not a wittily sarcastic opening salvo like you thought, this is actually a real live (well, undead) sequel. My notes say that the original was released in 1988 (that can’t be right, I saw it at the cinema and I’m only…OK, OK, that’s scary in itself), with Burton reuniting original cast members Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder and Catherine O’Hara.

Notable additions include a hilarious Willem Defoe as a theatrically hard-boiled underworld detective, Justin Theroux’s pitch-perfect male feminist and modern-day sad gurl icon Jenna Ortega. With Ortega playing Ryder’s daughter, this almost feels like an official passing of the Goth ‘It Girl’ torch, like when Madonna kissed Britney at the MTV awards except they’re both sat in a graveyard wearing Victorian mourning dresses.

The plot is chaotic, involving lots of passing back and forth into the cartoonish afterlife, trickster demon Keaton with his army of pinhead warriors/administrators being chased by his reanimated ex-wife (Monica Bellucci). The special effects channel some of those memorable, late-80s graphics and mix them well with modern-day cgi. They’re employed with some gusto during the musical numbers, which culminate in a triumphantly possessed and thoroughly entertaining cover of MacArthur Park.

It’s anarchic, nonsensical and highly enjoyable if you don’t think about it too much. Just strap yourself in - it’s like being on a theme park ride scored by Danny Elfman, and everyone commits to the bit. I had fun, anyway. (PO)