BEETLEJUICE (1988)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *superior*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *comedy*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

One reason I label BEETLEJUICE's mythicity as "superior" rather than just "good" is because the story-- as much a concoction of Michael Keaton's improvisations as the title character as of the assorted script rewrites-- is one of the most original ever spawned in Hollywood. But when I say "original," I don't mean something created ex nihilo. Nothing comes from nothing, but real originality inheres in the artist's ability to swipe from so many sources that the synthesis *seems* original. 

For instance, one could argue that BEETLEJUICE takes a lot from the basic trope "supernatural being causes trouble for humans." The earliest script was more of a violent horror film, but Tim Burton allegedly saw the concept's potential for absurdist comedy, and for that reason lobbied for Michael Keaton as the star, based on perceiving his skill at channeling manic energy into his roles. But even if one specifies the trope further-- "supernatural being causes comical trouble for humans"-- most supernatural comedies provide some sort of rule-structure for the paranormal presence, be it a ghost, a demon or a leprechaun. No so much for the ghosts of BEETLEJUICE. There's no heaven or hell in the afterlife for these revenants, and though the script avoids touching on theology, the implication seems to be that the spirits of the dead are essentially cobbling together their own unliving cosmos. In places this world feels like a slapstick take on the Greek Hades, where spirits ceaselessly mourn their lost corporeality. There may also be a little borrowing from one aspect of the Egyptian afterlife: the part where the spirits of the deceased can be gobbled up by spirit-eating monsters (here called Sandworms, one of whom plays a big role in the climax). 

Such is the cosmos to which Adam and Barbara Maitland (Alec Baldwin, Geena Davis) are introduced. The two, a couple living in a country house near a Connecticut city (talked about but never seen as such), are childless for reasons not divulged, and Adam in particular has channeled some of his energy on creating a tabletop scale-model of the nearby city. Then both of them perish in an auto accident, and as discarnate spirits wander back to their country house. An unknown entity leaves them a "handbook for the recently deceased," and they realize that they're ghosts. Because ordinary humans can't see them, they can do nothing about their house being sold to a pair of narcissistic vulgarians, Charles and Delia Deetz (Jeffrey Jones, Catherine O'Hara). With the Deetzes come Charles' Goth-outfitted daughter Lydia (Winona Ryder), whose gloomy affectation may relate to the reason for her mother's absence (though nothing about the first Mrs. Deetz is ever disclosed). Being perhaps a little psychic, Lydia can see Adam and Barbara, and over time they see in her the offspring they never had-- which is more than her neglectful parental units can see.      

                          

The Maitlands seek out the source of the afterlife manual: a bureaucratic office where harried caseworkers seek to sort out what fates are allotted to various unquiet spirits. The Maitlands learn that for some reason they have to keep haunting their old house, even though the vulgar Charles and Delia have turned the place into a greater visual horror than either ghost can imagine. The unhappy ghosts learn of the "bio-exorcist" Beetlejuice, who claims to be able to chase the living out of their houses. It's never clear what remuneration the gross ghost desires for his services, nor why he manifests within Adam's town-model. Probably, to the extent that the scripters thought about the matter, both have something to do with Beetlejuice trying to escape restrictions placed on him, *possibly* by the classically named lady-ghost Juno (Sylvia Sidney), who is both Beetlejuice's former boss and the caseworker for Adam and Barbara. The ghost-couple tries to chase away the Deetzes with paranormal tricks but their efforts only intrigue Charles into believing he can exploit his "haunted house" for profit. Though the Maitlands begin to reconsider their exorcism of humans, purely for Lydia's sake, Charles just wants to control the home's former owners. To that end, he coaxes one of his equally clueless fellow travelers to perform an invocation, but the lunkhead screws up the ritual and the Maitlands are in danger of complete annihilation. Lydia can only save them by unleashing the chaos of Beetlejuice-- after which the Maitlands have to save her from the lubricious specter.

Based on available accounts it sounds as if Burton created or encouraged the idea of portraying all of the ghosts as shapeshifters, largely because that idea gave the director lots of latitude for cartoon-like transformations. That said, only Beetlejuice and the Maitlands seem to be able to perform loads of ectoplasmic mutations and poltergeist tricks. Most of the ghosts seen at the processing office seem to be stuck in the forms they had at the time they perished-- throats cut, wrists slashed, one's whole body squashed flat by some sort of conveyance. The BEETLEJUICE script is one of the least polemical ever filmed. Yet, even so, the callous title character can't understand Lydia flirting with death, because in his cosmos there's nothing "easeful" (a la Keats) about the afterlife. Yet even if Beetlejuice is trying to invade the mortal world somehow (he whips up a marriage-ceremony between him and Lydia that will supposedly free him from his bondage), everything he does, even his comical "bio-exorcist" routines, connotes the dead's hatred of the living, just for still being alive. This is a hostility that the Maitlands experience as well, though they're able to transcend resentment in the name of love. In the final moments it's evident they're now providing Lydia with the good guidance she doesn't get from her living parents.

I held off reviewing BEETLEJUICE for a long time because even its few weak points don't keep it from being one of the Greatest Comedies of All Time (note that here I'm not making the "in Hollywood" qualification). I could write another essay just listing all the things that make its funny scenes lastingly amusing, where so many other comedies exhaust their humor once you see the basic joke. But I felt I should set down my thoughts at last, in part because it's impossible to review BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE without some reference to this originary narrative.