Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is Tim Burton‘s retrospective on Tim Burton. Back in the day, Burton went from outsider to the cool kid, similar to a few of his characters. What made him unique ultimately makes him commercial in the 21st century. How did the director behind some of the most original visions of the 20th century produce big Disney machines in the 21st century? What happened? It’s a question beneath the surface of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, a sequel that’s far fresher than rehashed. In other words, it’s personal.
Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) was once the coolest of the cool, a rebel. Just like Burton. Thirty-odd years later, she hosts a TV show about ghosts she doesn’t care for, her daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) won’t talk to her, and she’s under the thumb of a toxic boyfriend (Justin Theroux). Deetz’s original vision—seeing the dead—has turned her into more of a brand than a human. As Burton calls such an experience in interviews, she’s become “a thing.”
As Deetz returns to her childhood home and rediscovers herself, so does Burton. He goes back to his roots, too, but with all his experience and hard-learned lessons. The past isn’t where it’s at; you don’t get stuck there, but you don’t forget it as you tell new stories and forge stronger connections. Gifts and talents don’t mean squat if loved ones live in their shadows. Burton loves craftsmanship, but in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, family is more important to him.
A scene in which Lydia and Astrid bond over Halloween and Mario Bava movies in an attic is what the movie is all about, not just recycling familiar gags and sights. People first, colorful adventures second. It’s a balance Burton has struggled with in the 21st century, but perhaps after his soul-sucking experience on Dumbo, he has all the feelings of disappointment to fuel the heart of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.
There’s a bit of telling pain behind all the infectious glee in the film. Yes, Burton is wildly successful, ups and downs and all. The visionary director has arguably made some of the most entertaining movies of all time. He has shaped childhoods, inspired generations of young artists, and has a beautiful career, no question about it. The former Disney animator broke rules, but after a decade or two of following them, he needs to let the Juice loose. He needs Lydia, Beetlejuice, and now Astrid, someone whose cynicism transforms into joy.
Burton’s self-exploration is part of why the sequel sings, but there are a ton of laughs, wonderfully imaginative sights, and Michael Keaton delivers a glorious return. The entertainment value is all there, even in Keaton’s always expressive brows, but it’s not Burton playing the greatest hits. He’s done doing that, at least in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. To move forward, he took a look back. In a big commercial sandbox, Tim Burton dodges the sandworms of commerce and finds a story that matters.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is now playing in theaters.
