Say It Once, Say It Twice — ‘Beetlejuice Beetlejuice’ Is Not the Movie We Waited 36 Years For

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a movie caught between two worlds, in more ways than one. Not only does it straddle the dichotomy between the realms of the living and the dead, it’s also splitting critics and early audiences down the middle. Just look at its Rotten Tomatoes score — 76%, at the time of writing, which puts it almost (un)dead center in Tim Burton’s 20-entry filmography.

Seeing as the original Beetlejuice is one of the most beloved horror comedies of the 1980s, it’s a shame it’s not being universally adored — but perhaps that’s inevitable for a movie that sees Burton operating at the most egregiously off-the-wall he’s been since the early years of his career. The self-styled master of the macabre has been open about how this production was something of a creative cleanse for him after the directorial doldrums of his Disney remake years (his first and last films of the 2010s were Alice in Wonderland and Dumbo).

Beetlejuice is said twice in the sequel’s own title, so maybe the best way to approach such a divisive cinematic experience is to come at it from two different perspectives. For your consideration, this review reflects the points of view of two hardcore Beetlejuice fans. WGTC staff writers Christian Bone and Taylor Mansfield went to see the same movie, yet they saw different things.

Say it once…

Believe me when I tell you, I really, really, really wanted to love Beetlejuice Beetlejuice — and yet while there is much for any Burton fan club member to enjoy here, the long-awaited sequel felt less like a cohesive piece of moviemaking, and more like a grab-bag of stray ideas that have been percolating in the director’s head then loosely stapled together, much like Monica Bellucci’s villain (think Nightmare Before Christmas‘ Sally crossed with Eva Green in Dark Shadows).

The 1988 film seemed to operate on the worthy principle that less is more — Keaton’s beer-gutted ghoul famously only appears for 17 minutes. The sequel is much more prone to indulgence, however, with an overabundance of characters who feel included simply because Burton wanted to work with the actors, e.g. Willem Dafoe’s hammy zombie detective, and Justin Theroux as… Justin Theroux. The result is less focus on the three Deetz women — Winona Ryder’s Lydia, Catherine O’Hara’s Delia, and Jenna Ortega’s Astrid, all of whom are wonderful, no doubt — than would’ve been to the story’s benefit.

That said, Keaton slips back into character like he last played him yesterday and not four decades ago — albeit slightly reimagined as a deadbeat, decaying Deadpool. There are several sequences of genuine artistic flair, including multiple musical scenes, and an extended homage to the works of 1960s giallo filmmaker Mario Bava (that one’s for the teenage Ortega fans in the room), and there’s a real anarchic, unpredictable energy throughout.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is certainly the Wednesday reunion we’ve been waiting for since 2022, but it wasn’t exactly the Beetlejuice sequel I’ve been waiting 36 years for. C.B.

Say it twice…

I’m opening my part of this dual review with some praise. At its high points, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a delightful fanservice that echoes a cauldron of elements that made the original work so well — ranging from Michael Keaton brilliantly resurrecting the demonic trickster, to Winona Ryder’s Lydia Deetz continuously embracing the ever-familiar goth aesthetic that aided audiences in believing in her character, to Jenna Ortega finding the perfect spot in this spooky madness.

Now, believe me when I tell you, I’m certainly not quick to dismiss the sequel’s conspicuous flaws. During its low points, the long-awaited sequel can feel a bit overstuffed with a wide range of separate arcs fighting for the side-plot spotlight. Its occasionally drowning narrative can feel a bit wonky at times, as Burton desperately attempts to cling on to the unwavering charm and appeal so profoundly showcased in the ‘88 original. 

That being said, its flaws are undoubtedly no match for the undeniable charm echoed by the likes of Keaton, Ryder, O’Hara, and Ortega — with the women-led trio providing the perfect cherry on top of a slightly unorthodox sundae. Then again, Burton has never been one for the orthodox, helping Beetlejuice Beetlejuice soar to incredible heights as a zany, enjoyable, highly entertaining piece of art that reminds us why some sequels are, dare I say, worth the 36-year wait.

Is it perfect? Not by a long shot. But it doesn’t need to be, either. It’s as kooky, ridiculous, and over-the-top as its predecessor. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is wildly fun and never takes itself too seriously, but maybe that’s something that’s tragically been lacking in regards to the seemingly endless cesspool of hotly-anticipated sequels. 

Burton — along with the rest of the vibrant cast — simultaneously made me laugh and cry at the same time, and for that reason alone, it was worth the wait. T.M.

Say it one more time…

So, is Beetlejuice Beetlejuice a soulful sequel guaranteed to lift your spirits, or a ghost of a great movie that’s missing the vital juices it needs to bring it to life? Burton’s latest is so, well, strange and unusual — it is refreshingly uncaring of convention and playing it overly safe, that’s for sure — that it’s almost critic-proof, and has to be appreciated subjectively and personally. It’s a perfect antithesis to all those cookie-cutter blockbusters, but whether Burton crafted a beautifully shaped biscuit or a messy blob of dough is up to you.

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