Strange and Unusual: Celebrating the Macabre Silliness of Tim Burton's "Beetlejuice"

If you say his name three times, he'll appear right before your eyes. You know who I'm talking about. All with me now! (Tim) Burton. (Tim) Burton. (Tim) Burton. Okay, maybe I can't summon one of the most aesthetically recognizable filmmakers of his era (this is print journalism, not a séance), but what I can do is reminisce on the macabre humor of "Beetlejuice" and how it remains one of Burton's funniest films. In case it's been an eternity since your last appointment with the afterlife, "Beetlejuice" follows the strange journey of Barbara (Geena Davis) and Adam Maitland (Alec Baldwin), a married couple that has their whole life ahead of them — well, at least for the rest of the afternoon. A terrible car accident over the town bridge sends these lovebirds to their watery deaths. Being permanently confined to their idyllic Connecticut home for centuries seems like the best possible outcome of their predicament, but when their abode is taken over by the Deetz family, the Maitlands take matters into their own hands. Amid their own grotesque attempts to send the Deetz's running, the drowned pair are tempted by the services of the premiere bio-exorcist Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton), who's itching to be revived and cause trouble. There's a lot of heart to "Beetlejuice." The Maitlands are sweet people pushed to extremes just to hold onto the one thing they have left besides each other. Not only does goth queen Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) learn to grasp with her tether to the dead, but she also acts as the surrogate child the Maitlands were never able to have. But let's not kid ourselves. "Beetlejuice" hasn't lasted because of its emotional center, but because Burton's kooky sense of humor is still so deeply funny. Plenty of movies about the weird intricacies of the afterlife had been made prior to 1988, but have you ever seen one with a waiting room consisting of a guy that died because a rattle snake slithered into his sleeping bag or someone that died choking on a chicken bone? It's funny to see Burton conjure a bureaucratic life after death that aesthetically resembles German Expressionism mixed with a carnival funhouse. Whether it's the Maitland's undead social worker Juno (Sylvia Sidney) or a guy who got run over having his own flat tunnel system in the wall, there's always something funny happening around every corner. Of this tremendous ensemble, three names garnered the biggest laughs upon this last rewatch. There's O'Hara as the step-matriarch artist whose artistic sensibilities resemble what would ultimately become Burton's cinematic aesthetic moving forward. Then you have Glenn Shadix as Otho, Delia's interior designer who's more than interested in the ghostly happenings of the new house. (That moment when an unfazed Otho casually gives notes on a closet featuring Barbara — after having just horrifically peeled her face off — gets me every time.) But if we're talking about gags, we need to talk about the man of the hour. When you reminisce about what makes "Beetlejuice" one of Tim Burton's most iconic films, it's inevitable you'll get lost fawning over Michael Keaton's show-stopping presence (and rightfully so). On the eve of reuniting with Burton to play the Caped Crusader, Keaton goes for broke as the horny bio-exorcist "ghost with the most" looking to peddle his business, get laid and, most importantly, cause a whirlwind of mischief. He infuses this performance with flashes of Groucho Marx and the Joker, coupled with the won't-take-no-for-an-answer demeanor of a sleazy used car salesman. You can't take your eyes off what is essentially a live-action cartoon come to life. Given the prominence of the title, it's easy to remember the horny Betelgeuse as a bigger presence than he is. The "Day-O" sequence is the work of the Maitlands, but Keaton is so larger than life in his 17 minutes of screen time that his energy is felt throughout. No scene in this movie makes me laugh harder than when Betelgeuse stops everything to scream while his disembodied head spins around, followed by the beautifully timed "don't you hate it when that happens." At this stage in his career, Burton is clearly having a blast playing with his creepy toys and the legacy of "Beetlejuice" more than speaks for itself. "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice" Review: Burton's Wonderfully Silly Return to Form In the years since "Beetlejuice" escaped from the underworld to become one of the greatest horror comedies of the '80s, Burton went on to a prosperous career with one hit after the other. But for every "Ed Wood" or "Sleepy Hollow," there's a "Planet of the Apes" or "Dumbo" in tow. After his '90s run, Burton's track record became really spotty. When it was announced that he was helming a sequel to "Beetlejuice," I found myself of two minds that it could either be another disappointment or that it would fall in the trappings of yet another slavishly referential legacy sequel. What I wound up with was a kooky funhouse extravaganza that made me laugh a whole lot. "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice" is the most alive a Burton flick has felt in ages (at least since 2012's "Frankenweenie"). It's like watching a kid rediscovering what made their imagination so potent during those formative years and building upon it. There's surprisingly a lot going on for a 105-minute runtime. An adult Lydia Deetz navigates her TV producer wet blanket of a boyfriend (Justin Theroux), while also trying to be a mom to her emotionally distant daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) who ends up striking up a romance with a mysterious boy in town (Arthur Conti). Delia seeks to find a way to reconnect with her dead husband in one of the film's funniest running gags. And then you have the sultry Monica Belluci as a literal soul-sucker vowing revenge on the man that killed her centuries ago: that devious stinker known as Betelgeuse. Did I forget to mention that Willem Dafoe is here too as an afterlife cop (previously an actor who died making an action movie) investigating the whole thing? They all appear as if they're not all going to reach a satisfying conclusion; and while some stories receive greater resolution than others, you're having so much fun that it almost doesn't matter. Burton decorates this thing with a bountiful helping of wall-to-wall sight gags that guide you into the next scene. Neither Keaton, nor O'Hara have lost a step since '88. And any movie that spends a great deal of time paying homage to Mario Bava is a friend of mine. It's perfect for the Halloween season. "Beetlejuice" is currently streaming on Max. Are there any streaming projects that you would like to see me cover? Shoot me an email at moviemoxie1@gmail.com and be sure to let me know! Be kind. Stay safe.