There is a house on a street in a town next to a river – or is it a model of a house on a street in a town next to a river? Is this model a replica of something real or a ghostly apparition itself? Are we driving down this street, floating over a replica or floating through something else entirely? These questions are raised in the opening moments of Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice and mirrored in the first scene of the sequel, Beetlejuice – Beetlejuice. In both cases, Danny Elfman’s tinny music blares as white picket fences pass by. Vintage shops turn into garages, which turn into churchyards; a picturesque picture of America. But much like the 1988 film Beetlejuice Beetlejuice barely touches on those early questions of world-building. Instead, it seeks to overturn this suburban dreamscape to play among the beams of its rotting foundation.

40 years after the Original, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice begins with the grown-up Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder), who has since sold herself out and become a medium on a television show about ghost hunting. Her life is in shambles. Her daughter Astrid (Tim Burton’s new muse Jenna Ortega) barely speaks to her, and her greasy-haired boyfriend Rory (Justin Theroux, once again proving to be a comedic tour de force) is obviously living off her fame and money. On top of that, Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton) seems to be stalking her, appearing in brief, unsettling moments that only intensify when Lydia learns of her father’s death.

There are subplots involving Astrid falling in love with a local boy, and Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe), an actor turned private detective in the underworld hunting the soul-stealing Delores (Monica Bellucci). None of these subplots make sense, but all of Burton and screenwriters Miles Millar and Alfred Gough’s crazy ideas are captured beautifully by cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos and choreographed to a series of new, offbeat musical numbers. It’s clearly the most fun Burton and his collaborators have had in decades.

The entire returning cast is in attendance, with Catherine O’Hara and Ryder bringing a world-weariness to their characters by hunching their shoulders and rolling their eyes. By comparison, Keaton must revert to the coarse mischievousness and broad stride of his first outing (after all, there isn’t much personal development once you’re dead). Ortega rounds out the ensemble, and while her portrayal doesn’t quite revive the disenfranchised teen cliche as Ryder’s did in 1988, she draws a sweet earnestness from Ryder’s Lydia, who is intent on making sure her daughter doesn’t follow in her footsteps and fall for Betelgeuse’s elaborate tricks. It’s this balance of actors (any of whom could direct their own version of this film) that makes for a thoroughly watchable version of the legacy’s undead sequel. Their willingness to do so is in keeping with Burton’s obvious Exhaustion with his own “brand”, and his renewed commitment to the kind of silly objectivity that had originally drawn him to filmmaking.

And as each character descends into the hall-of-mirrors-like afterlife through a series of increasingly absurd (and dark) antics, Burton’s playfulness is convincingly portrayed. What follows is a mix of garish prosthetics (each highlighting gory, creative deaths), ’80s pinpricks (symbolizing Astrid’s alternative tastes), and subplots that evolve into bite-sized homages (like those with all-Italian dubbing) or stop-motion animation. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is just bold and brash enough to work, a formula that Burton perfected in his first decade as a director (and which, considering his later work, seems to have been forgotten to this day).

Early on, in a performative, overly articulated cadence suited to her live television audience, Lydia poses the following question: “The living and the dead: can they coexist? That’s what we’re here to find out.” Perhaps unfairly, it’s what the audience is unconsciously grappling with as well. Can a beloved director both build on his early craft and create something that feels grounded in the present? Timeless, but not nostalgic?

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is oddly paced and barely intelligible plot-wise, but aesthetically is esoteric in a way that was once synonymous with Tim Burton’s cinematography, vivid and real. Halfway through the film, Astrid’s lover (Arthur Conti) says, “I don’t trust what I can’t touch.” With this tangible, invigorating sequel, it seems to be a mantra Burton returns to. As in the first Beetlejuiceit’s really fun to spend time in a world created by such serious craftsmen with such playful goals.

Director: Tim Burton
Authors: Miles Millar, Alfred Gough
Pour: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara, Justin Theroux, Jenna Ortega, Willem Dafoe, Monica Bellucci
Release date: 6 September 2024