Tim Burton gives us the ultimate in the comic-horror range of bio-exorcisms. It’s showtime.
(Burton took one look at Michael Keaton and thought “Yep, that’s my Batman.”)
The Film…
So you’re dead, you can’t leave your home, the living want to claim it and ruin your remodelling and eventually they want to claim you, tricky one… what to do? Well there’s a word for people like you, say it three times and you’re in for something terrifying. Just the thing to get rid of those living scum right, a bio-exorcist. So Beetlejuice, Beetlegeuse, Betelguese!
Where to begin? I think I’ll start with the little exclamation of surprise I gave when the opening titles were rolling and I found out that this was indeed a Tim Burton film. I went, “Oh, Tim Burton.” and then “Oh, Danny Elfman.” as one of the world’s favourite film composer’s appeared too. But really who else would give you a film that began with an upliftingly creepy, tuneful lilt and gave its establishing sequence of landscape shots through a sequence of close ups of a scale model of a small town? Of course it was Burton and Elfman. One of the other names I thought I recognised was that of Michael McDowell (turns out I meant Graham, the Irish golfer), but, whom we discovered had written Beetlejuice (with edits by Larry Wilson and Warren Skaaren) and adapted Burton’s ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ for screen. We also soon realised that he was dead, which is a shame because it means he’ll never write anything again, not in this world at least.
In the film the recently married Maitland’s Adam and Barbara (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis) vacation at home becomes their last ever vacation as they pass into the undead and conclude that nothing really matters now, aside from the manual they’ve been given on just how to be dead. Yet the Deetz, Delia (Catherine O’Hara), Charles (Jeffrey Jones) and the young Lydia (Winona Ryder) not to mention the fabulously arrogant Otho (Glenn Shadix), make sure that they realise how much things still matter to them. With their display of what a rich 80’s family and their ‘in the know’ interior designer can do to terrify the undead, (one of the things apparently is sculpture), the Maitland’s only chance perhaps is Lydia, who seems to be able to see what they’re going through. When wearing sheets, pulling their own heads off and making the Deetz’ dinner party into a Harry Belafonte themed dance sensation doesn’t work the Maitland ghosts seek help from the other side. This only leads to a waiting room full of the recently deceased and sassy case handler Juno (Sylvia Sidney), who is less than impressed with their progress, but warns them not to go near Betelgeuse. Yet when they can’t stand the art, interior design and being made a novelty of any longer then that’s when the fun begins.
The visual work on this film is as you would expect with a Tim Burton piece, gorgeous and entirely boggly eyed, multiboxed spooky. Beetlejuice is a sensation of a film for the set design, make-up and animation alone, but also because Betlegeuse is such a sensationally disgusting character. Michael Keaton’s performance as the stripy suited, pale faced motormouth, fearmonger and creep is hilarious. Genuinely hilarious. Sustaining this level of other worldly sleazy madman charisma for each scene means that simple lines just shine, in ways they only do for instance with a character like (his complete opposite) Steve Carrel’s ‘Brick’ in Anchorman. Everything about Betlegeuse is disgusting, and that’s the way it’s meant to be, it’s what makes him the perfect anti-villain, yes he’s prepared to help, but only if he can get his way, and his way is out.
Notable too are the touching moments of insight into the black clad Lydia Deetz’ young loneliness and how finding these ghosts is like finding a family that really cares about her. The film I’d praise in the same way I’d praise The Royal Tenenbaums and Richard Ayoade’s recent film ‘The Double’ for the way in which they treat suicide, films with a comedic lightness that touch on the subject very well by presenting it as a genuine prospect for real humans and don’t shy away from that. Here we have a lonely adolescent girl who is the most in touch with the world because she listens and looks and thus can see the Maitland’s, driven to wanting them there so she can be dead with them too, and on the other hand you have the fact that in this underworld “all of those who’ve committed suicide become civil servants”. It’s a balancing act of fiction that Lydia’s character arc really does well to hold, especially in the final scene. Other arcs of atmosphere in the film can lose themselves to a lack of interest depending on what state of attention you’re willing to pay, especially in the case of the real estate based moments, (which are thankfully saved by Otho many a time). I really do enjoy however the closeness that Tim Burton’s films have to childhood and adolescence, how the growing up part is confusing in a world where you’re not shielded from adult ideas. The adultness that she has is what keeps Lydia’s character so attractive to Betlegeuse, and the fact that he’s explicitly expressed that he’s there to take her away and wont be stopped is the crux of the creepiness when combined with Burton’s more horrific scenes; unless the Maitlands have something to do about it all. (Spoiler – which, of course, they do.)
Beetlejuice, to conclude – a whacky visual treat, a helluva of a story and a host of great performances. See Alec Baldwin be charming, young and stretch his face over itself, see Winona Ryder be melancholy and younger, see Glenn Shadix be obnoxious and flaunt it and see Michael Keaton be the best he’s ever been. Watch it, before it ends up growing eyes and watches you.
– K
Notes…
Number 278 on Empire’s list of The 301 Greatest Movies of All Time
5 Things You May Not Know About Beetlejuice
Early Draft of McDowell’s Beetlejuice Script
A scene that comes straight to mind…
One of the instances that the Maitlands step outside of the house and are propelled into a yellow sand dune world of the surreal and almost eaten by a sandworm, one of Burton’s wondrous, fanged head-within-a-head creations.
“Whoa, sandworms. Ya hate ’em right? I HATE ‘EM MYSELF!” – Betelguese, later, on the topic of sandworms.
Rating… K – 76/100. H – 80/100.