Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Burton’s classic comedy and cast deserved new life, and here are the Deetz

It’s been more than 35 years since we heard Harry Belafonte belting out the “Banana Boat” song (day-o!) as Winona Ryder’s dour teen danced on air in the original “Beetlejuice.” The 1988 film, now followed by “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” cemented Tim Burton as a quirky voice to be reckoned with. Sure, he made “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” three years earlier, but “Beetlejuice” was the game changer that would give Burton the keys to the castle to make future passion projects “Edward Scissorhands” (1990) and “Ed Wood” (1994) and of course, the crown jewel, the original big-screen “Batman” (1989), bursting box-office records and making Burton look like a man who could do no cinematic wrong. (The Ill-conceived “Planet of the Apes” reboot would drop inertly nearly a decade later, and there was “Mars Attacks!”). 

Plus there was Michael Keaton, a guy who started out as a minor cast member on “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” dropped into comedy series such as the envelope-pushing “Maude” and even had a short-lived slapstick endeavor called “Working Stiffs” opposite John Belushi in 1979. He bit into the gonzo, undead title role with such effusive vim and vigor that the performance and the film became instant classics, more than just a little left of center. I don’t think we realized it then, but we were getting a glimmer of one of the most under-the-radar talented actors of our time. The gear shift from comedic to stoic (“Beetlejuice” to “Batman”) showed a range that would morph and reform seamlessly over the years, be it the crime classics “Jackie Brown” (1997) and “Out of Sight” (1998), in which Keaton played the same Elmore Lenard-penned FBI agent for auteurs Tarantino and Soderbergh, or his Academy Award-nominated turn in “Birdman” (2014) for director Alejandro G. Iñárritu, who won Best Director for his work with Keaton. In short, Keaton’s a director’s go-to third-down-back, a thespian safety valve who rarely errs. He’s done Bostonian as Globe editor Robby Robinson in “Spotlight” (2015), the Oscar winner about unearthing one of the city’s dark chapters. He’s even taken a few turns as a filmmaker, most recently the crime thriller “Knox Goes Away.” Did I mention his body of work isn’t well enough appreciated?

But enough with the accolades (all due and deserved) and history. Is “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” any good? It’s packed with nostalgia and some smart script rewirings. Ryder’s goth girl who could (and still can) see the dead, Lydia Deetz, is now a grown-up single mom who rakes in the big bucks with a paranormal TV show called “Ghost House.” Her daughter Astrid (Jenny Ortega, who rocks Burton’s Netflix Addams Family spinoff series, “Wednesday”) is off at a New England prep school and think mom’s a hoax. Catherine O’Hara’s back as Lydia’s stepmom, Delia, and still parading around with a vibrant shock of red hair. But her garish art has become a thing – a big thing, bringing in Banksy and Picasso dinero. 

Though life is relatively good for the Deetz women financially, Astrid’s father perished in a boating mishap while on a climate justice mission in Brazil and Lydia’s father, Charles, is also gone. Understandable: Actor Jeffrey Jones was convicted in 2003 for soliciting a minor to pose for lewd photos and is a registered sex offender. The film sidesteps the matter with a neat animation sequence and a shark.

His death is the reason for all to return to Winter River, Connecticut (shot in East Corinth, Vermont), where his funeral is to be held at his beloved country estate. In tow is Lydia’s TV producer and nasally love interest (Justin Theroux, replete with a cheesy short ponytail) hoping for the opportunity to spin the sojourn into a matrimony prospect as well. But it’s Astrid who sparks romantic tinder first, as she agrees to a Halloween-night date with a reclusive local boy (Arthur Conti of “House of the Dragon”). Without giving away too much, the date turns into the reason Beetlejuice is invoked and even mortals end up in the neon-green lit, checker-tiled, Dr. Caligari underworld – or its limbo waiting room, anyhow. 

In the vast mix is the statuesque Monica Bellucci as a stapled-together, soul-sucking banshee. Willem DeFoe makes for good fun gnawing on a big hammy bone as Wolf Jackson, purgatory’s head cop, who was a B-tier actor on TV before a death by grenade. Danny DeVito has a cameo. 

Overall, “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” is a fine rewind that spins up perhaps a few too many plot threads. Some find their seam, other dangle annoyingly loosely. The cast is all in, as is production designer Mark Scruton, who’s worked with Burton on “Wednesday” and really cooks up some vibrantly gorgeous sets that evoke and improve on the original. O’Hara makes it seem like her first go-round was just yesterday, and Ryder, who pretty much carries the arc of the film, does a nice job of bridging yesterday and today. Naturally Keaton’s the standout who delivers the batty showman goods with amped-up zest, though the added backstory and deeper delve culls some of the X-factor fun that was so fresh and infectious in 1988. And Ortega takes a big step forward seizing Ryder’s disenfranchised-teen mantle while making it her own – though with this and the new “Scream” films, one can see her falling into a niche a la Mia Goth, which would be too bad, as both are fine actors with promise beyond just the dark and macabre. 

Wisely, there’s no “day-o” to close out the show, but there is another esoteric classic that I won’t spoil – and it is apt and up to the task. Given that you need to recite the title character’s name thrice to bring him to your realm and the title has two utterances, will there be a “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”? Playing with house money, I’d bet the Deetz’s amassed riches on it.