Film Dunce is a weekly series in which one of our writers finally succumbs to the lure of a movie that has long been a big part of our culture that they have never seen. Seen through fresh eyes, we evaluate, enjoy and sometimes get bored by these titans of mental real estate.
Like many films I could profile for this feature, Beetlejuice was a movie that drew shocked noises from my friends when I mentioned that I had never seen it. However, I was personally interested in filling this particular gap in my repertoire. Having recently seen Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, I was starting to really feel the disappointment that most people seem to have with the man who used to seem like a creative and exciting director. With any luck, Beetlejuice would be a breath of fresh air in the midst of psychedelic-colored, uninteresting remakes.
As I’d hoped, Beetlejuice hearkens back to simpler times. Alec Baldwin was thin and Winona Ryder hadn’t yet starred in any Adam Sandler movies. Most importantly, both the plot and the execution are wacky without being overwrought: the Maitlands (Baldwin and Geena Davis) find themselves dead and trapped in their New England home with only the Handbook for the Recently Deceased as their guide. When they fail in their attempts to haunt away their house’s new occupants (insufferable city art snobs and their mopey goth daughter), the Maitlands contact Betelgeuse/Beetlejuice. The unhinged, self-described “bio-exorcist” promises to rid their home of its living guests, but instead wreaks bizarre havoc.
Beetlejuice is truly enjoyable in that Burton’s playfulness manifests itself in sincere humor instead of just bright colors. Care and cleverness are given to Burton’s vision of the afterlife, and any strange or perverse elements contain an underlying sense of charm. Pretentious Delia Dietz (Catherine O’Hara) and her decorator Otho (Glenn Shadix), obnoxious as they are, are really just humorous caricatures, and scariest haunting that the central ghosts in our story can come up with involves lip-synching Harry Belafonte. Beetlejuice may have a lot of darkness, but Burton lightens it up and makes it pretty easy to swallow.
Of course, Beetlejuice is best known for Michael Keaton’s portrayal of the eponymous character. Beetlejuice is a prankster and a horn-dog, and Burton and Keaton both succeed in executing his character as revolting enough to be scary, but funny enough to keep the rating at PG. Keaton’s Beetlejuice is malevolence at work, striking a brilliant balance between playfulness and sinister hints. Keaton created the perfect antagonist for this film, and I’m just grateful that 1988 was a time before Burton decided that every important role should go to Johnny Depp.
As fun as Beetlejuice is, the movie’s logic begins to disintegrate as the plot starts to wrap itself up. Right as Beetlejuice is about to creepily wed Ryder’s Lydia Deitz, the script begins breaking its own rules that had been set up with regard to the afterlife. Barbara Maitland was not only able to heroically return from Saturn, but when did she learn to ride that sandworm? Why wasn’t anyone able to summon Adam Maitland out of the model the same way they bring out Beetlejuice? How was he eventually able to get out? Oh, by the way, I guess the Deitzes can inexplicably see the Maitlands. How convenient! Now they can all live happily ever after. Perhaps I’m nitpicking, but for a movie that created such a unique premise with such care, this ending just feels sloppy and lazy.
Logic issues aside, Beetlejuice is certainly a nice revisit in the wake of Burton’s current projects. The ideas were original, and while the look and feel of the movie was certainly distinct, they weren’t over the top or tired. The film was filled with many moments that were smart and funny, and that was enough.
by Melissa Muenz
