Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

If this had just been a lesser iteration of Burton’s second-best film (fight me), not quite as imaginative or humorous or breathless but a successful retread nonetheless, I’d likely have been lightly positive towards this. Instead, however, we have a Legacy Sequel where it takes an hour to enter what can generously be called the second act, where remnants of past drafts keep weighing things down, where characters who are plenty strongly defined are “developed” to little dramatic or comedic end. Some of the grossout gags land, but I spent most of these hundred minutes bored out of my skull.

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