Nostalgia is perhaps the most powerful drug when it comes to art, and like many substances, it tends to be abused quite frequently, especially in recent years when studios have grown increasingly reliant on replicating the success of existing properties. It seems like every year, we encounter examples of the dreaded triage of “reboots, remakes and revivals”, which is built on the belief that audiences are only interested in engaging with works that are familiar – and if they touch on the tender charm of the past, it’s just an additional benefit. Yet, in between the jumble of poorly-made copies and nostalgia-infused revivals, we find some gems – and in the case of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, there’s the possibility of something genuinely quite brilliant emerging. Tim Burton takes the reigns once again as we voyage to Winter River, where some familiar faces find themselves in that familiar hamlet, confronted with the spectres of the past, quite literally – including our beloved titular bio-exorcist, who returns to wreak havoc on both the living and the dead. It doesn’t take too long to realize that this film is going to be the rare legacy sequel that manages to be triumphant in both its ideas and execution, and we don’t often come across works that are so thoroughly reverent to their roots that they put in an astonishing amount of effort to recreate the magic that was first ignited nearly four decades ago – but when it comes to Burton, when he puts in the work, he is truly one of the most inventive and exciting filmmakers working in the industry. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice offers us another terrific journey into the afterlife, handcrafted by a director who is back at the peak of his abilities, working alongside a talented group of individuals on both sides of the camera, who join him in making a film that manages to be engaging and entertaining from the start, and never quite loses momentum, instead building on its themes to create an earnest, captivating horror comedy that is tremendously well-made and, in the simplest terms imaginable, nothing but 100 minutes of purely unhinged, grotesque fun – the exact description that made the original such a success, and one of the most cherished entries in the genre’s history. 

The well-worn adage of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” has a contentious history when it comes to sequels, especially those made after a considerable amount of time has elapsed. Some tend to stay so close to the original that they feel out-of-touch and extremely dated, as if those involved were too hesitant to change anything in the fear of alienating devotees to the original, whereas others take such wild swings in terms of thematic and structural changes, they barely resemble one another. There is unfortunately a lack of a clear pattern that indicates the right balance between honouring the original and trying something new, and it all ultimately comes down to a blend of intention and originality. Mercifully, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is the rare example of a film striking the perfect balance and adhering to that cliched phrase, since Burton makes sure to craft something that is immediately recognizable, not only due to the familiar characters, but also the tone and structure, and everything else that goes into the creation of such a sequel. Along with writers Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, Burton follows the same formula that made the original such a success, forming an outrageously funny, perverse and decidedly politically incorrect horror comedy that is not afraid to be offensive or unsettling, knowing that this taste of the absurd and macabre is the primary reason the first film has maintained such a dedicated following for over thirty years, and why it has never been out of vogue, despite coming at a time when the industry was filled with this kind of off-the-wall genre filmmaking. However, he doesn’t rest on his laurels, and refuses to entirely surrender to the idea of just replicating the first film – instead, the director takes the skeletal structure of Beetlejuice and makes it clear that it is the heart of this sequel, and then builds on the ideas. The result is a combination of familiar gags and new ideas, many of which are genuinely quite intriguing and add layers to an already deeply captivating cinematic folklore. Those who grew up with the original or encountered it over the years will find that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is driven by the spirit of the first film, just being brought into the 21st century through some intelligent, well-chosen changes that make for an exceptionally well-crafted continuation of the ideas introduced in the original, and which are preserved perfectly in this sequel.

Despite the temptation to populate Beetlejuice Beetlejuice with an entirely new cast, Burton chooses to take the obvious (but not mandatory) route of bringing back several of the main cast members from the original film. A few did not return for various reasons, but the core cast has mostly remained intact – Winona Ryder takes the reigns as the de facto protagonist, reprising her breakthrough role of Lydia Deetz, who has gone from a rebellious teenager to the frazzled mother of a daughter who holds the same lack of respect. The daughter is played by Jenna Ortega in a bit of casting that is somehow both obvious and brilliant – no one has had their entire career shaped by the sensibility of eventually becoming the central protagonist in a Burton production than Ortega, and after their well-received collaboration in Wednesday, it seemed inevitable that she would join his recurring coterie of actors. Catherine O’Hara returns as Delia Deetz, and once again proves herself to be beyond magnetic (and has the added challenge of having to distance herself from the Moira Rose character, an iconic part that has overshadowed her incredible body of work), and simply outrageously funny. Naturally, there is the titular character and arguably the main attraction in the form of Betelgeuse, with Michael Keaton reprising the part – and once again, he takes a mostly supporting role, only appearing sporadically throughout the first two acts before emerging as the primary antagonist in the final climactic scenes. The lack of development or a clear arc for the character may seem lazy, but it works in the context of the film, and Keaton is as hilarious as ever. This role was never going to be his signature part, but rather one that showcased his zany, off-the-wall energy, which he hasn’t gotten the chance to showcase for some time, and which he easily falls back into throughout this film, proving that he is still at the peak of his eccentricity. Other memorable additions to the cast include Monica Bellucci, whose character is superfluous from a narrative level, but is still extremely compelling if we look at it from a purely atmospheric point of view, and the always exceptional Willem Dafoe (shockingly in his first collaboration with Burton), playing the best new character in the film, and one who could justify an entire spin-off of his own. The performances are uniformly excellent, and there isn’t a weak link among the cast, which works together as an ironclad ensemble to bring this demented comedy to life.

However, as we have come to expect from a Burton production, the performances are not the only aspect that is worth discussing, and while it may be filled with memorable work from its actors, much like the previous film, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is an off-the-wall spectacle that brings out some of the most talented artists in their respective departments, which has always been a priority for Burton as a craftsman who values collaboration as a form of creative expression. Despite the technology that has become readily available, Burton still chooses to make a film that primarily consists of practical effects – there are certainly some sequences where more modern techniques are implemented, but they’re complementary to the more hands-on approach that the director and his team take to creating this world. The brilliance of this film comes in how every intricate detail is well-constructed and meaningful, carrying a sense of sincerity that works towards the story. The costumes (designed by industry icon Colleen Atwood) are incredible, as is the production design – both in terms of replicating the sets of the original film and creating entirely new dimensions for these characters to explore – and the use of colour and framing only highlights these elements. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is an exceptionally well-made film, and Burton proves that he can create something memorable with even the most paltry of resources, and he doesn’t even fear the idea of audiences seeing the seams in his work, since these elements actually have a degree of the charm behind them, carrying a sense of earnestness that is often missing from more polished horror comedies that may be more neat and compact, but lack the ramshackle charm that drives this story and makes it such a delightfully irreverent continuation of an already brilliant film.

Undoubtedly, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is not able to reach the tremendous heights of its predecessor, but it is the closest approximation we are ever going to get, and considering how many legacy sequels have been mangled and misshapen under the impossible weight of its reputation, to have something that is genuinely engaging and entertaining come about without needing to rely on anything other than the foundational elements that made the original so incredible is quite an achievement, and one that we cannot discount when looking at this film. This is a return to form for Burton, who made his best film in well over a decade, and there is even an argument to be made that Beetlejuice may come to be seen as his defining work, an idea that is only reinforced by this sequel and its fascinating approach to revisiting certain themes and motifs that have come to be viewed as his signature traits as a filmmaker. It’s a purely entertaining film that contains very superficial themes and follows a familiar structure that doesn’t lead anywhere unexpected – but yet it is all so compelling, precisely because Burton puts everything he has into this film, which comes after over a decade of inconsistent work, where he seemingly lost the ambition that propelled him earlier in his career and replaced it with a milquetoast sense of quirkiness that ultimately didn’t match the talent he still possessed. The more we see of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the clearer it becomes that this is possibly the coalescence of every one of the director’s talents, bundled together into a perverse, hilarious dark comedy that is entertaining, moving and genuinely heartfelt in ways we may not initially expect – and its attention to detail, incredible performances and overall intent to provide an experience that is driven by a sense of both curiosity and love for the macabre only further solidifies it as an absolute triumph.