Beetlejuice (1988) *****
Beetlejuice (1988) is the type of film that, if it hit you at just the right age and temperament, will forever be a favorite. As with Tim Burton's 1985 debut feature, Pee-wee's Big Adventure (my favorite film; blog entry here), Beetlejuice is one of my Top 100 Films—one I can revisit any time and never tire of. It's not literally a perfect film but I can't (and don't try to) find fault with it. I just love it dearly and it always makes me smile.
The mystique built upon by the plot development leading to Michael Keaton's entrance, nearly halfway through the film, is truly wonderful. The fact that he only spends a mere 14 and a half minutes of running time on screen just doesn't seem possible. Betelguese is undoubtedly one of Keaton's most unforgettable roles—he's crass, he's perverted, he's hilarious, and Keaton plays him with aplomb. Can you even fathom any other actor in this role? Can you picture the character with a different voice? Credit the screen and story writers for the idea, but credit Keaton for reportedly improvising the majority of his dialogue and helping to mold the performance and look.
There's no denying that Keaton created a classic cinema personality for the ages but all the other major roles are also great. The Maitlands—Adam and Barb (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis)—are a pretty vanilla married couple but you can't help but feel for their plight and they really sell the simple small town country lifestyle beautifully. The Deetzes (Catherine O'Hara and Jeffrey Jones), the couple that invade the Maitlands peaceful homestead, couldn't be more opposite from each other—Delia, a snobby NYC sculptor, and Charles, a frumpy former real estate developer. Their clashing dynamic—Delia aided by her uber hip interior designer Otho (Glenn Shadix)—is a source of much amusement. And of course there is their daughter, Lydia (Winona Ryder, fantastic in only her third film outing)—herself strange and unusual, her life one big dark room, and the source of many a budding crush and goth template for teens.
But enough about the actors. The sets! My goodness, the sets. Awash in green and blue light, Beetlejuice is a marvel of makeup, special f/x, costumes, and production design. From the Maitland's rural normalcy to Delia's postmodern art/architecture to Adam's model town (brilliantly brought to full scale when Betelguese shows up) to Burton's vibrant asymmetrical netherworld to the desert landscapes of the sandworms, the film is consistently a pleasure to look at, full of incredible attention to detail.
It's mind-boggling to think that of the film's $15 million budget, a mere $1 million was allotted to visual effects, which include stop motion, replacement animation, prosthetic makeup, puppetry and blue screen. Burton and his team successfully created an indelible, singular experience—an eye-popping funhouse B movie atmosphere that never ceases to amaze and delight in equal measure (and looking absolutely stunning on the new UHD).
Music plays a huge part in Beetlejuice as well. Danny Elfman's playful score (one of his best), along with the use of those enduring Harry Belafonte songs, remains as memorable as the film itself—functioning as an enjoyable listen even removed from the movie.
Beetlejuice is one of those lightning in a bottle films that simply could not be made the same way today. I worry that if the proposed sequel ever sees the light of day it might just be a total mess (because we all know that the Tim Burton of the 1980s and 90s is not the same as current Tim Burton and I don't mean that in a good way)—crammed with poor CGI and obnoxious editing. Some films should just exist on their own and the reason they are so beloved is because of the legacy that has arisen from not being franchised and tampered with to death (pardon the pun).
So next time it's showtime and you're in the mood for the ghost with the most, turn on the Juice and see what shakes loose!
You can find my Tim Burton Feature Films Ranked list here.
The mystique built upon by the plot development leading to Michael Keaton's entrance, nearly halfway through the film, is truly wonderful. The fact that he only spends a mere 14 and a half minutes of running time on screen just doesn't seem possible. Betelguese is undoubtedly one of Keaton's most unforgettable roles—he's crass, he's perverted, he's hilarious, and Keaton plays him with aplomb. Can you even fathom any other actor in this role? Can you picture the character with a different voice? Credit the screen and story writers for the idea, but credit Keaton for reportedly improvising the majority of his dialogue and helping to mold the performance and look.
There's no denying that Keaton created a classic cinema personality for the ages but all the other major roles are also great. The Maitlands—Adam and Barb (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis)—are a pretty vanilla married couple but you can't help but feel for their plight and they really sell the simple small town country lifestyle beautifully. The Deetzes (Catherine O'Hara and Jeffrey Jones), the couple that invade the Maitlands peaceful homestead, couldn't be more opposite from each other—Delia, a snobby NYC sculptor, and Charles, a frumpy former real estate developer. Their clashing dynamic—Delia aided by her uber hip interior designer Otho (Glenn Shadix)—is a source of much amusement. And of course there is their daughter, Lydia (Winona Ryder, fantastic in only her third film outing)—herself strange and unusual, her life one big dark room, and the source of many a budding crush and goth template for teens.
But enough about the actors. The sets! My goodness, the sets. Awash in green and blue light, Beetlejuice is a marvel of makeup, special f/x, costumes, and production design. From the Maitland's rural normalcy to Delia's postmodern art/architecture to Adam's model town (brilliantly brought to full scale when Betelguese shows up) to Burton's vibrant asymmetrical netherworld to the desert landscapes of the sandworms, the film is consistently a pleasure to look at, full of incredible attention to detail.
It's mind-boggling to think that of the film's $15 million budget, a mere $1 million was allotted to visual effects, which include stop motion, replacement animation, prosthetic makeup, puppetry and blue screen. Burton and his team successfully created an indelible, singular experience—an eye-popping funhouse B movie atmosphere that never ceases to amaze and delight in equal measure (and looking absolutely stunning on the new UHD).
Music plays a huge part in Beetlejuice as well. Danny Elfman's playful score (one of his best), along with the use of those enduring Harry Belafonte songs, remains as memorable as the film itself—functioning as an enjoyable listen even removed from the movie.
Beetlejuice is one of those lightning in a bottle films that simply could not be made the same way today. I worry that if the proposed sequel ever sees the light of day it might just be a total mess (because we all know that the Tim Burton of the 1980s and 90s is not the same as current Tim Burton and I don't mean that in a good way)—crammed with poor CGI and obnoxious editing. Some films should just exist on their own and the reason they are so beloved is because of the legacy that has arisen from not being franchised and tampered with to death (pardon the pun).
So next time it's showtime and you're in the mood for the ghost with the most, turn on the Juice and see what shakes loose!
You can find my Tim Burton Feature Films Ranked list here.
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