Pose Reviews A Movie. #25: Beetlejuice (1988)

For a movie that's as old as I am, Beetlejuice holds up pretty well!

I've decided to continue my Tim Burton retrospective by taking a look at his zany post-mortem comedy featuring the first performances of a few actors who would become staples in his later films. Michael Keaton (Batman, Batman Returns), Winona Ryder (Edward Scissorhands) and Jeffrey Jones (Ed Wood, Sleepy Hollow) all appear in Burton's 1988 endeavor, and I must say they're quite suitably cast.

The film also includes Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis as the recently deceased protagonists of the film, and Catherine O'Hara, whose performance as the stark-raving mad artiste who drives her family insane is by far one of the highlights of the film.

The premise of Beetlejuice is unique and wildly creative--something Burton's films don't offer anymore. The story follows the afterlife experiences of Adam and Barbara Maitland, a married couple who, to quote The Doors, "break on through to the other side" after their car takes an unanticipated detour into a river.

The afterlife, however, is cleverly depicted not as a terrifying nightmare, but a bureaucratic headache. The Maitlands take a considerable amount of time to figure out what has happened to them, and once they do, they are given only an easily distracted caseworker and an extremely cryptic instruction manual (pun intended) on life after death to help them through.

But as though this post-existence existential crisis wasn't enough for the Maitlands, they also have to contend with the new occupants of their home--the relentlessly irritating Deetz family, consisting of Ma (Catherine O'Hara), Pa (Jeffrey Jones) and angsty teen (Winona Ryder).

The Maitland ghosts attempt to rid themselves of the Deetz family on their own, but when their attempts are continually foiled, they turn to a 'bio-exorcist' who specializes in ridding the dead of living, breathing vermin.

His name? Juice. Beetle Juice.

It's a wacky concept to be sure, but a fun ride overall. The actors are all very committed to their roles, and Burton does what he does best by creating a creepy, haunting aesthetic to balance off the goofiness of the script.

Finally, it's also worth noting the immense amount of skill possessed by the makeup artists who worked on Beetlejuice. A recent discussion with a friend of mine regarding the virtues of practical makeup as opposed to CGI effects gave me a new perspective on the value of good makeup artistry, and the Oscar-winning Beetlejuice exemplifies the power of makeup-done-right. (But you'll have to watch to see what I mean!)

Overall, Burton's post Pee-Weenian, pre-Batmanian hit reminds us what imaginative film can be like. While nowadays everything seems to be either an adaptation, a sequel or a remake, it helps to remember that twenty years ago, Hollywood was willing to take a chance on a crazy concept like Beetlejuice, and it paid off.

But don't get me wrong. I liked Predators as much as the next guy.

Chris 2010 Viewings #9: The Informer

US, 1935. Directed by John Ford. Starring Victor McLaglen.

When we first bandied about this idea of watching and blogging as many films as possible in 2010, two things popped into my head. First, I would try not to watch films I'd already seen before so that most of my reactions could be fresh; at that point I'd already watched two old favourites (the W.C. Fields pictures) and since then I have rewatched a film I last saw roughly 20 years ago with new context that I didn't have at the time. Spy Kids 3 is my daughter's fault, and that kind of thing will be unavoidable. Second, I would try to watch as many films as possible this year that I'd long put off; movies I know I should see but have always put off for one reason or another.

First up in this category was John Ford's The Informer. There's no question why I always put this one off - it was well-reviewed at the time (the New York Film Critics Circle awarded it Best Picture of the Year in one unanimous ballot). But time has not been kind to the film's reputation. In spite of filmmaker Samuel Fuller declaring it his favourite film of all time, many reference books label it as unworthy of Ford's later work. Ford himself dismissed it as "without humour" when interviewed by Peter Bogdanovich.

Set in 1922 Ireland, during the war of independence, The Informer chronicles several hours in the life of Gypo Nolan, a frequently drunken lunk who was kicked out of the IRA for going soft and refusing an order to execute a prisoner. Penniless and depressed that his true love has to eke out a living as a prostitute, Gypo is handed a dilemma when his best friend Frankie sneaks back int0 town on a foggy night, in spite of the £20 reward being offered for information leading to his capture. £20 is enough to secure passage for Gypo and his best gal to a new life in America, so he turns informer. Alas the first thing he does is buy some liquor, breaking open the floodgates of his conscience and he must spend the evening helping the local IRA honchos figure out who the stool pigeon is without giving himself away.

Gypo, as played by Victor McLaglen (who won an Oscar for his work), is a force of nature, an unforgettable movie character. In spite of Ford and screenwriter Dudley Nichols' obvious condemnation of Gypo's actions, he maintains our interest and sympathy because of the irrepressible humanity he projects, while all of the IRA men are dour, interchangable characters.

The photography of Joseph August deserves special mention. The Informer was extremely low-budget for a studio A-picture, and all shot on a miniscule soundstage. Yet one never feels it because of the noirish shadows and thick fog surrounding the action. The fog is especially powerful, especially as Gypo begins to feel closed in, where anything could be lurking only a few feet away and anyone could be watching him.

Lacking humour it may be, which does make it stand out a bit from Ford's other work, and arguably is a debit, especially with an ending that can charitibly be called overbaked. But it's a powerful work that holds the attention from beginning to end, generating considerable suspense both in the sense of wondering what will happen, but within ourselves asking what do we want to happen?