Beetlejuice
The known abject lack of quality in modern day family entertainment can be chalked up to a couple of definite things, one being the complete lack of sophistication in most of these works, and the other being the failure to include (even subversively) some winks and nods for adult viewers to enjoy what theyâre watching along with their kids, who more often than not are happily and mindlessly spoonfed simple minded stories with fluffy one dimensional characters for their enjoyment. Long gone are the days when Walt Disney strove to make his classic animated films creations of great artistic merit, and long gone are the nostalgic value many adults have with the stuff that they enjoyed growing up. Little surprise then, that the film that stands as arguably THE most popular kids movie of the 80s is this one from 1988 directed by a then neophyte status Tim Burton, which for all of its looney tunes style craziness is probably still one of the darkest pieces of work to ever escape the MPAA with just a PG rating, with some sobering images and ideas about the concepts of life and death presented in such a way that it amazingly comes off as being light as a feather. The driving force behind all of this of course is Michael Keatonâs performance as the title character, a classically manic, unstable, psychotic turn that nonetheless manages to come off as being uproariously funny and easily scene stealing, winding its way into most cinematic pop culture memory data banks despite the fact that his role only lasts for less than 20 minutes of actual screen time but what a glorious time it is, with Keaton adlibbing his bits here like crazy and displaying so much energy that he makes the (very good) supporting cast look like theyâre going in slow motion. The plot concerns a young married couple (a very toned down Alec Baldwin at the beginning of his career and Geena Davis) living in a large house in a very small, remote Connecticut town who seem to have an unhealthy fixation with Harry Belafonte and calypso music, not to mention building a detailed model miniature of the entire town itself. One day, while on a drive into town they suffer a complete freak accident (complete with a dark punchline) as their car goes into the lake and they drown. Finding themselves back home, the dead couple soon find out how the order and structure of the afterlife works: interminable wait times (no complaining now since youâre not going anywhere), suicides now forced to work as civil servants doing all of the paperwork, a grouchy case worker whose advice is never really all that clear, and a specially provided handbook whose instructions seem even less clear, thus showing how life after death is just one big neverending bureaucracy, and the only apparent peace that any ghosts can ever have is by at least still residing in their own home. Unfortunately, Baldwin and Davis soon find their home being âinvadedâ by the new owners, a family which includes the well meaning yet dipshit husband (Jeffrey Jones), the near psychotic wanna be artist trophy wife (Catherine OâHara managing to be both monstrous and adorable at the same time), and Jonesâ always depressed and morose teenage daughter (Winona Ryder in the role that put her on the A list), arguably the first ever cinematic depiction of a so called âgoth girlâ, complete with the fashions and the attitude (although she curiously doesnât seem to have any real taste in music). Even worse, theyâve also brought along OâHaraâs personal interior decorator (Glenn Shadix), a completely needless and worthless hanger on whose similarity to real life hip New York City social parasites who talk and act like they know just a little bit about everything is mindblowingly accurate. It isnât long before Baldwin and Davis are going out of their minds dealing with these super trendy yuppie types who even go so far as to remodel the entire house itself into some kind of Art Deco nightmare, but they are advised by their case worker (old time movie star Sylvia Sidney smoking a cigarette and blowing it out her slit throat) to scare them out themselves and to enlist no outside help. Which finally brings us to Keatonâs Beetlejuice, a character given very little backstory (except for having once been Sidneyâs assistant), but who soon does everything that he can to start baiting Baldwin and Davis in order to enlist his services as a so called âbio exorcistâ, using his apparently supercharged demon skills to drive out (or possibly even kill) the unwanted interlopers, and when the couple actually meet with him and realize that not only is he an unbridled psychopath, but also a lecherous, sex crazed maniac with a libido that just wonât quit (even sexually assaulting Davis a couple of times), they decide that they might be better off without him even as he still figures out ways to launch attacks on the family and even develops a hankering for Ryderâs young goth girl, which actually springs Baldwin and Davis into a protective mode, as they develop such a fondness for Ryder (who is not only so pure in her own goth heart that she can see and hear them clearly, but can also read through the afterlife handbook and understand it perfectly) that they almost become ghostly surrogate parents for her, even as Sidney repeatedly tells them that the living can have no definite proof of life after death and Shadix reveals how his own eccentric background included dabbling in paranormal research which now makes him as much of a threat as Beetlejuice himself. All of this is blended together deliciously in Burtonâs hands, with some stunning visuals, a breathlessly entertaining pace, an instantly iconic score by Danny Elfman, some randon acting appearances for people like Dick Cavett and Robert Goulet, some charming setpieces, and a lighthearted sense of fun and wonder brought to the whole affair that made kids of that era and beyond take to it as one of their instant favorites (even with Keaton dropping an F bomb at one point), a far cry from the original version of the screenplay written by Michael McDowell (said to have been a very weird guy in real life before his death from AIDS in 1999) which was said to have been much more of an actual horror film with Beetlejuice portrayed as being a much more relentless force of pure evil than the crazily goofy huckster we get here (no doubt with the intention of starting him as a franchise horror villain ala Freddy or Jason), which brings up the anamoly of why we STILL havenât seen a proper sequel produced to this day (though it is rumored to be in production right now with Burton, Keaton, and Ryder all taking part), although the animated series which got spun off of this (which saw Ryderâs character and Beetlejuice portrayed strangely enough as fun loving best friends) was considered by many to be the official extension of the franchise. As far as performances go, there is no doubt that OâHara, Ryder, and Shadix are standouts, but yet they still pale next to the over the top insanity that is Michael Keaton, whether it be by advertising his services through a used car style commercial, obscenely hitting on and grabbing at every female in sight (living or dead), or by just keeping things hilariously irrelevant throughout which in turn keeps the whole morbid story itself as light as a feather, this has got to go down as one of the most inspired comedy performances of all time with a minimum amount of screen time (with Keaton so great as an unstable, hare trigger crazy man that it influenced Burtonâs decision to cast him as his edgy verson of Batman shortly thereafter) as one wonders that if Keaton had been allowed to dominate the entire 90 running time just how much funnier that it all could have been (Baldwin and Davis in the leads are admittedly a bit dry), but nonetheless it can be chalked up as being another brilliant triumph on the resume of Tim Burton at a very early stage of his career, succeeding magnificently at making perhaps the darkest family friendly film of all time with a tone all its ownâŚ
9/10