Tim Burton’s 1988 film is an unadulterated goth camp, a goliath evil wink. From the initial bars of Danny Elfman’s brave score, you know even the human universe of Barbara and Adam Maitland’s little Connecticut town is an elevated one. You shouldn’t accept it — or them or their tangled plot — as genuine or serious, in particular when two or three bite the dust a couple of moments in.
The certain something “Beetlejuice” gets right is to create a couple of wonderful new personal characteristics. Presently everybody has a few unusual crimps clamoring for articulation, even Barbara and Adam. Presently Lydia’s dumbfounded dad, Charles (Jesse Sharp), and his ditzy new number one, Delia (Kate Marley), share this enormous sex drive where each time they run into each other, they need to go neck or protuberance for basically a couple of seconds prior to attempting to continue.
In Marley’s creative, energetic execution, Delia is no virago except for somebody who will enter Lydia’s reality and make do, loosening up words, wearing personas, and vamping. Her exhibition is so great you begin to think perhaps “Beetlejuice” ought to have begun once again, just with her, and get rid of the remainder of the protected innovation altogether, unshackling the show from anything that its makers believe its fans need.
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