Tim Burton Is Great Again

As a film enthusiast who has spent countless hours delving into the world of cinema, I can confidently say that Tim Burton‘s latest offering, “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” is a delightful return to form. It’s like reuniting with an old friend after years apart, only to find that they’ve grown up yet still carry the quirky charm that drew you in initially.

In the middle of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”, Delia Deetz (Catherine O’Hara) queries about the whereabouts of the troubling young girl with a gothic flair who had once tormented her in the past. She is conversing with her stepdaughter, Lydia (Winona Ryder), who has matured from the gloomy teenager of “Beetlejuice” (1988) into a popular star of a low-budget ghost-hunting reality show. It seems that this question could also be posed to director Tim Burton, as it reflects his journey from the creative boom he experienced in the ’80s and ’90s, marked by movies like “Beetlejuice”, into a phase characterized by Disney remakes and adaptations featuring Eva Green. Like Lydia, who admits to selling out, Burton moved on from an adolescent fascination with darkness towards more mature themes, including the one that made “Dumbo” (2019) appear as a viable project. In many ways, “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” mirrors these concerns, being both a sequel set three decades later and a tale about Lydia assuming the role of the distant parent struggling to connect with her own disaffected child. However, despite this, the film lacks cynicism and instead represents a rejuvenation of Burton’s style, as he, along with much of the original cast, delves back into the strange, grotesque, and yes, gothic realms of both an enchanting New England town and a joyous afterlife.

In the initial “Beetlejuice” movie, the affluent New Yorkers serve as antagonists alongside the title character, the quick-witted ghost (though technically he’s “Betelgeuse” in that film). The Deetz family initially move to Winter River, Connecticut, filled with arrogance, bitterness, and questionable renovation ideas. It fits their personalities well that by the time of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” they seem to have partially or entirely returned to the city. Lydia, who retains her distinctive spiky bangs and adopts more Elvira-like outfits, acts as a “psychic mediator” in front of a live audience, while her producer and boyfriend, Rory (portrayed by Justin Theroux), remains close by. Their daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega, who seems perfect for the role), is enrolled in a boarding school where she leads a pessimistic climate club. Delia has emerged as a prominent Manhattan artist, as suggested by her extensive gallery exhibition titled “The Human Canvas.” The death of her husband, Charles, serves both as the catalyst for the story and a practical solution to the fact that the actor who originally played him, Jeffrey Jones, is now a convicted sex offender – his character’s head gets bitten off by a shark and he spends the rest of the film as a torso. Charles’s funeral provides an opportunity for the three women to return to Winter River, where they reconnect with the vulgar ghost who still harbors feelings for Lydia.

Traversing through the film “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice ” symbolizes shedding off lethargy, regardless of whether it’s lingering sorrow (Astrid’s father, portrayed by Santiago Cabrera, passed away shortly after her split with Lydia), stagnant romantic feelings (Rory conceals his manipulations behind therapy jargon), or supernatural hauntings. Michael Keaton skillfully reprises the character of Beetlejuice as if he never left, and the consistent O’Hara maintains a chilling sameness. Ryder portrays Lydia, poignantly, as a fragile adult who seems to be trapped in the fashion she adopted many years ago, as though she was interrupted before fully maturing. When she pleads with Rory for one of her pills to get through the day, it’s a moment that borders on being too real, but the movie otherwise handles its emotional metaphors delicately. Lydia may have unresolved trauma from her past that needs to be exorcised, but she also has actual ghosts to deal with. When Astrid, a hardened nonbeliever, encounters a charming neighborhood boy named Jeremy (Arthur Conti), she discovers that her mother wasn’t delusional about the visions she claimed after all, and soon the characters are forced to seek help from a villain whose name they had vowed never to utter again (let alone say three times). The film also includes a stop-motion sequence, haunted hallways at strange angles, countless creative depictions of waiting-room corpses, and the amusing yet profound imagery of the Deetz house shrouded in a mourning veil. All of these elements are showcased in scenes that heavily rely on practical effects (including a demonic baby Beetlejuice crawling across the ceiling, reminiscent of the detox scene from “Trainspotting” ).

If the initial Beetlejuice movie seemed unusual and asymmetrical in its narrative flow, then let me tell you, the sequel maintains an unexpected disco rhythm that fits surprisingly well. This could be because it complements the film’s intense energy. When Monica Bellucci, portraying Beetlejuice’s former lover Delores who sucks souls, reassembles her dismembered body to the beat of the Bee Gees, it creates a grotesquely exhilarating scene. And when the movie culminates in a choreographed rendition of “MacArthur Park,” there’s genuine delight in its presentation. Unlike many recent reboots that feel like corporate efforts to resurrect the past—literally, in movies such as Ghostbusters: Afterlife and Alien: Resurrection—Beetlejuice Beetlejuice skillfully sidesteps the sensation that it merely exists to repeat the familiar one more time. Instead, watching it offers a comforting respite, like rekindling a friendship with an old companion and discovering that you still connect on multiple levels—and not just due to shared memories of your goth past.

2024-08-28 22:55

Tim Burton Is Great Again

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