If you go into Beetlejuice Beetlejuice without having seen the original since 1988, you may come out with green-colored glasses. All the specifics will have faded to the back of your mind. The sequel sure looks like a proper follow-up, and with 34 years between you and the previous stop you’d be remiss to forget just how good that first film is.
On the other hand, if you do revisit it in preparation for the second entry, problems become prevalent pretty quick. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice looks the part, and sometimes feels it, but there’s a distinct lack of soul that situates the sequel firmly behind its classic counterpart. It’s almost like there’s something missing.
You can feel it from the beginning. After an admittedly exciting title sequence that mirrors the first film, we quickly fall into an odd funk of normality. Lydia Deetz is in the spotlight – any sense of her character’s irreverent personality has been left behind in favor of a more traditional legacy blockbuster archetype. She’s tired of life, lost on her purpose, and disliked by her daughter.
That’s where Jenna Ortega comes in as Astrid. She’s convinced that her Mom has made a living off of being a hokey-pokey liar. Ghosts aren’t real and all the old stories are a hoax. That isn’t a bad idea on paper, but it does lead to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice dwelling obnoxiously on the present day.
As a result of trying to shield Astrid from the afterlife for the sake of her art, this entire first act is essentially just a sitcom-esque drama that could’ve been copy-pasted into any given CW premiere over the last ten years. Nothing about Burton’s world suggested such a change of pace, and it’s distracting to a dizzying degree.
The film gets better as it goes on, but everytime they try and pull on your heartstrings, you’re only reminded of how much looser and less concerned with emotion the first film was. That one still managed some brevity in that department, but it came naturally from the characters’ one-of-one circumstances and didn’t overstay its welcome.
It isn’t always fair to play the comparison game, but Beetlejuice is almost a genre on its own. The new has to be compared to the old; it’s the second attempt at a standard previously alone. The shortcomings are under interrogation in that way. People have waited a long time for a sequel because the first one is so brilliant.
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice just isn’t. After the aforementioned opening act, Burton lets the film outrun him a little bit and the trademark zaniness kicks in to a certain degree. Keaton is clearly having fun in the titular role, and supplanted with phenomenal practical effects, it’s nice to get back in this world for a bit.
But the film insists on complicating things beyond believable measure. The film introduces a bevy of plotlines as it opens things up, each one as disconnected from the previous one as it will be from the next. Eventually, Burton ties things together in fair enough fashion, but you’re more thankful it’s over than excited to see it all come to a head.
Everything just comes off as either confused, plain, or a deadly mixture of both. The good stuff is due entirely to and carried by a killer cast and reliable creative direction from Burton’s end. Fans will undoubtedly find a good bit of fun, and the laughs are solid when they’re supplied. Yet there are a good share of audible groans to be had too, with a generic blockbuster screenplay chalk-full of familiar arcs and boring beats.
This is a toss-up. It’s gonna work for some, maybe most, but others will be disappointed by how far it is behind its predecessor. Time doesn’t equate to improvement it seems, and sometimes it’s better to just leave something alone. Don’t say his name three times, just let the man sleep.
Rating: 5/10
