The first Beetlejuice was fun; the second is a Shit Show.
The first Beetlejuice was fun; the second is a Shit Show.
As a longtime fan of the original Beetlejuice, I walked into the sequel braced for disappointment but still held out a glimmer of hope it wouldn't completely suck. I was one of the many saying "don't make the sequel!"
The warning signs were everywhere—three decades of development limbo, recycled nostalgia, aging cast—and yet I gave it a go recently. The hope it wouldn't be that bad was not merely dashed; it was gleefully exterminated.
The original, directed by Tim Burton, was never truly about its title character. The chaotic bio-exorcist was the spark plug, not the engine. The emotional core belonged to the Maitlands—their confusion, grief, and mounting desperation as they grappled with death and the grotesque absurdity of the afterlife. Betelgeuse himself, played with feral brilliance by Michael Keaton, burst onto the screen like a manic poltergeist of…
