‘Beetlechus Beetlechus’: More Beetlechus, for what?

Even if there were no credits, it would be clear to many viewers that they would recognize the signature of that very personal director with an overwhelming visual sense called Tim Burton. He is the owner of a very particular world, which does not guarantee that all his films are conceived in a state of grace. He has mediocre and even disposable ones.

But he has also written exciting stories like Edward Scissorhands and Big Fish. A happy smile appears on my face every time I remember them. And an endearing and enduring masterpiece entitled Ed Woodwhich tells the very funny and delirious story of someone who had the honor of being described by critics as the worst director in the history of cinema. That guy with an eternal fondness for cross-dressing and immune to discouragement in his passion for making movies, author of insane films conceived with an enthusiastic and unforgettable army of freaksprotector of the elderly, legendary, forgotten and ruined Béla Lugosi, when he can no longer find veins in his shattered anatomy to inject heroin. It’s beautiful Ed Wood. I remember and revisit with pleasure from time to time those gems of Tim Burton. Something that doesn’t happen to me with his complete filmography. He has also made nonsense that cannot be saved even by his always genuine and powerful sense of image.

For example: I know I saw many years ago Beetlejuicebut I can’t remember anything about its plot. I don’t know if it’s a problem with my poor memory or that it didn’t leave the slightest trace on me. Something that has been happening to me for a long time with Tim Burton’s films, including his long and irrelevant militancy, I imagine fabulously paid, in the Disney factory. I’m still in limbo regarding the plot of the first Beetlejuicealthough in this Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (how playful, how mischievous Tim Burton is) I seem to recognize characters who must have inhabited the previous part. Like the one played by Winona Ryder. With the difference that the now fifty-year-old Ryder was a child there. And the wild guy played by Michael Keaton also sounds familiar to me from the past.

And I guess the first time addicts Beetlejuice will continue to be fascinated by its sequel. You know, that world where the living and the dead coexist. In the tone of an unbridled comedy, with situations, loves and fights between the active deceased and the dissatisfied living that are sometimes described with tenderness. As always in this man’s films, there is creative imagination, remarkable work in the creation of very strange creatures and the prominence of makeup, special effects and costume design.

I’m not bored, but I don’t get the torrential humor that the script intends either. I’m not complicit in the continuous laughter of some of the attendees who must connect all the time with Tim Burton’s very particular sense of humor. I’m kept slightly entertained by his ability to create images. Also by the music of his eternal and formidable collaborator Danny Elfman and by the use in the very careful soundtrack of old songs that still sound very good. And I always find the presence of that peculiar, plump and short actor called Danny DeVito amusing. And I want to look at the beautiful Monica Bellucci, even though her face and anatomy appear full of screws and other ungratifying gadgets. I don’t think that Beetlejuice Beetlejuicelike the first one, remains in my memory for too long.