Beetlejuice (1988)
The idea for Beetlejuice developed when Michael McDowell, a horror novelist and occasional television writer for “Tales from the Darkside”, sold the rights to some of his Southern Gothic novels to a former studio development executive named Larry Wilson and his producing partner Michael Bender. Wilson had left his executive career to return to screenwriting and asked McDowell to become his writing partner for a feature film.
Ghost-themed films were popular in the early 1980s. Wilson suggested writing a psychedelic ghost comedy but wasn’t sure where to start. While McDowell and his life partner, theatre historian Laurence Senelick, brainstormed ideas in their Boston home, they grew so annoyed by the pretentious yuppie family next door, they wished they could summon a real ghost to drive them away. This gave them an idea: ghosts who can’t stand the humans who’ve moved in and will do anything to scare them out. They decided to give the ghosts Wilson’s traits, mild-mannered introverts, and give the humans McDowell’s, snobbish artists. The ghosts were too nice for an effective scare, so they concocted a hired gunslinger character, a deadly demon summoned by ghosts to do their dirty deeds, like an exorcist of living people.
Wilson loved this new angle because it allowed for crazy ideas, the zanier the better. They threw in references to things they loved: psychedelic rock bands, Spanish-language horror movies, slapstick cartoons, and classic comedies like Topper and Death Takes a Holiday. They titled it “Beetle Juice”, an alternate spelling of a star in the constellation of Orion (the literal translation of Betelgeuse from Arabic is “The armpit of Orion.”).
When they were done, Wilson sent it to his friend, an exec at Universal Pictures. Wilson expected positive feedback; instead, he was questioned on why wasting left a promising career as an executive to push out nonsensical crap representing his writing talent.
Wilson happened to teach a UCLA Extension story analysis class where he showed the “Beetle Juice” script to his smartest student, a story development assistant at Geffen Film Company named Marjorie Lewis. Lewis loved it, recommending it to Geffen president Eric Eisner. Geffen bought it at their asking price of $100,000, including the screenwriters’ services for revisions.
Geffen had a distribution partnership with Warner Bros. Wes Craven, who had a development deal with Warner, was attached to direct after filming Deadly Friend. Craven claims he was yanked after two months of work because Wilson’s old boss, Disney studio chair Jeffrey Katzenberg, told them that he couldn’t do comedy.
Marjorie Lewis suggested another up-and-comer Warner had under contract, Tim Burton, to direct. Burton made a short film she loved called “Frankenweenie” and scored a hit with Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure. During this time, Burton was doing TV gigs because Warner only offered him dumb cookie-cutter comedies he had no interest in directing, like the talking-horse comedy, Hot to Trot. Burton pushed for his own story idea he called a cross between To Kill a Mockingbird and a Godzilla flick, but Warner only wanted him for things they already approved. One he accepted was the long-gestating Batman movie he’d begun cultivating with writer Sam Hamm.
Geffen sent Burton the “Beetle Juice” script. Burton judged it structureless and nonsensical, yet undeniably imaginative and perversely funny. It was abstract but absurd in the best of ways, with bizarre characters and unusual situations that he took comfort in exploring. Burton knew something this stupid and formless would provide the perfect platform where he could inject any idea into. Burton informed Wilson and McDowell that he wanted to do it but he was waiting on Batman. However, he hired them as screenwriters for an adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s short story, “The Jar” he was directing for NBC’s revival of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”.
Geffen next contemplated Frank Oz once he completed Little Shop of Horrors for them. Meanwhile, McDowell and Wilson worked with a Geffen exec on a multitude of revisions. The screenwriters began to feel demoralized by removing everything they felt made their story unique. Oz became mired in creative issues on Little Shop that extended the production, and, according to the “Beetle Juice” contract, if a director wasn’t assigned by a specified time that was fast approaching, rights reverted back to the screenwriters.
Warner wouldn’t greenlight Batman, leaving Burton available. He was doing more TV work. He directed an episode of “Faerie Tale Theatre” and assisted animator friend Brad Bird with design concepts for an episode of “Amazing Stories” called “Family Dog” (later its own TV series). When approached again for Beetlejuice, Burton didn’t like the latest revision but agreed if they restarted with the edgier original script he enjoyed.
Warner wanted a light comedy with the wit of Albert Brooks and the whimsy of Frank Capra. Burton wasn’t interested in making that movie so they questioned every decision in script meetings he compared to court dispositions, grilled for hours over every detail. When the writers started second-guessing their own decisions, things became increasingly counterproductive.
Sensing an impasse, McDowell left to write another ghost comedy, High Spirits but remained available as a consultant. He’d work with Burton again for A Nightmare Before Christmas. Burton’s agent, Mike Simpson, recommended another client of his, Warren Skaaren, a script doctor who specialized in story structure. Burton spent a weekend with Skaaren in Austin, TX, sightseeing while discussing ideas. The studio approved of Skaaren thinking he’d keep Burton from getting too bizarre.
Skaaren simplified the storyline, made it more family-friendly, and decluttered the film of extraneous characters and subplots. In the original script, Betelgeuse was a bloodthirsty, shapeshifting demon, whose main form resembled a smallish Middle Eastern man with the personality of Groucho Marx. Burton reconceived Betelgeuse as a Vegas-style lounge lizard. Skaaren revamped the Betelgeuse character with traits drawn from Native American trickster mythology, more of a mischievous imp performance artist. Betelgeuse is now introduced in the first half of the film through a TV commercial advertising his bio-exorcism services.
Skaaren combined the two Deetz daughters into one, aging her up to a teenager at the studio’s request to appeal to that demographic, and made her the character audiences would identify with. He gave background history for the Deetzes that Jones and O’Hara expressed concern about. Betelgeuse’s child rape attempts were softened considerably, now wanting Lydia purely for marriage to break his curse. The script’s ending where Lydia dies in a fire and stays to live as a ghost with the Maitlands was changed to a happier ending for all but Betelgeuse.
The final story: Adam and Barbara Maitland love their large home in the small town of Winter River, Connecticut, despite no children to fill it. After experiencing a freak accident, they discover a “Handbook for the Recently Deceased” in their home, explaining that they’re now ghosts bound to their house for the next 125 years. They’re appalled when their house is bought by unpleasant New Age Manhattanites, the Deetz family – real estate speculator Charles and his tacky sculptor wife Delia, and their goth daughter Lydia. The Deetzes begin renovating the house in the gaudiest way possible.
The Maitlands determine to scare the Deetzes away, but the new owners are pleased with having a haunted house to boast to show off to business associates, and eventually turn into a tourist attraction. The Maitlands summon Betelgeuse, a zany ghoul advertising “bio-exorcist” services to get rid of the living. However, he often does more harm than good for those who’ve hired him.
After overspending for Little Shop of Horrors, Geffen capped Beetlejuice‘s budget at $13 million. While mostly set in one location, it detours into fantasy realms – purgatory, the sand planet, and Betelgeuse’s microverse within the Maitlands’ town model. Shot in Culver City with exteriors in East Corinth, Vermont. Only $1 million of its budget was for its 300 optical effects.
Burton hired craftspeople who specialized in low-budget effects. Alan Munro storyboarded with Burton’s desire for a grungy, handmade look similar to the inventive fantasy films he loved growing up. Effects were mostly done live using advantageous camera angles and techniques that minimized overbuilding sets and props. Some trickier effects were shopped to outside cost-conscious companies for physical and stop-motion animation work.
When it came time to casting, Burton wanted Sammy Davis Jr. for Betelgeuse. David Geffen erupted at this, countering with Michael Keaton. Burton was unfamiliar with Keaton, but when they met, Burton saw Betelgeuse within him – a livewire, with manic mannerisms and big, expressionistic eyes.
Burton was sold, Keaton was not. He’d been in a slump since Mr. Mom and didn’t want to sink his career further. The story was nonsensical and his character grossly offensive. He didn’t want to play any character who groped a child’s breasts. Burton told Keaton that it was a work in progress and completely open to comical improvisation. Keaton liked Burton but turned it down.
They reached out to other actors, including Sammy Davis Jr. Davis read only five pages before proclaiming it a piece of junk slasher movie not worth his time. The casting department continued to try Keaton but his manager, Harry Colomby, rejected them. David Geffen himself called Colomby saying Keaton was rejecting an Oscar nomination, cajoling him into another meeting with Burton. They met at a local Mexican eatery and something clicked. Burton mentioned that Betelgeuse can exist in all times and places. Keaton asked for time to think. He visited the wardrobe and make-up department for costumes from different time periods, weird teeth, and crazy wigs. Adding an off-kilter walk and manic energy, he felt invigorated. Betelgeuse created his own reality – an actor’s dream.
Burton liked the look, sending Keaton to makeup artist Ve Neill to enhance. The original concept drawings depicted Betelgeuse like a hobo. Ve Neill thought they should go wild using new air-brushing techniques. Burton likes coating actors under make-up because they lose themselves behind a mask. Neill thought Betelgeuse should look like he crawled out from under a rock, applying mold and moss growing on his face, neck, and hands. Various wigs were dyed to find the greenish-yellow look while acrylic nails provided a grungier appearance. Improvisation was openly encouraged. Keaton’s dialogue came mostly during conversations with Burton, working funny exchanges into the film.
Interest from other actors was similarly muted because of the incomprehensible story concept. Burton had to beg each actor to ignore the rough script and explain his vision before they’d accept. The first thought of but the last cast (It took time for David Geffen to approve) was McDowell’s friend from Alabama, Glenn Shadix, as the flamboyant interior designer Otho, who Burton viewed playing Gertrude Stein in her play, “Dr. Faustus Lights the Lights”. Anjelica Huston agreed to play Delia but dropped out when her father, John Huston, became gravely ill.
Catherine O’Hara had been asked several times to come meet for a different role but kept blowing it off until David Geffen persuaded her. When in Los Angeles, she got lost and missed the meeting. She flew back to Toronto and delightfully received a phone call they offered her the Delia role. In addition, O’Hara got a husband. Shadix introduced her to production designer Bo Welch, who she developed a crush on and would try to talk to every day. Welch thought Burton would frown if he fraternized with the actors until one day Burton casually suggested he should ask her out. He did; they married in 1992 and remain together today.
Sylvia Sydney initially turned down playing Juno, calling the script the most disgusting thing she’d ever read. Burton’s earnestness during a personal call won her over. Burton also won over Jeffrey Jones, who also had qualms about the script. Geena Davis, who Burton enjoyed in The Fly, was the only immediate yes as Barbara, though her six-foot height limited their options for husband Adam significantly. Mark Harmon and Jeff Daniels were asked the role that would go to Alec Baldwin, Adam Maitland, but turned it down. Baldwin didn’t like his bland character and tried to make it wackier (one idea was to do an impression of Robert Cummings throughout) but Burton wouldn’t allow it, stating that the Marx Brothers wouldn’t be as funny if every other character in their films were just as wacky.
Burton liked Winona Ryder for her strong presence in Lucas. He was told her parents said no because it seemed satanic. They pursued many other choices (Alyssa Milano says she was the alternate) when the casting director finally convinced Ryder’s parents to accept. When Ryder came to audition, she sat in a room with a guy who struck up a conversation asking her about music and movies until she wondered when Tim Burton was going to show. The guy in the room sheepishly admitted he was Burton.
Entire scenes came from brainstorming with the cast and crew. Skaaren suggested musical interludes to spice up the humor. The Motown classics he wanted were pricey so they pursued less expensive oldies. Skaaren took the Deetz dinner party scene where an ornate floral-design rug sprouts vines and wraps up the guests and made it a charming involuntary dance sequence. His song choice was “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots but during rehearsals, O’Hara thought reggae songs might be more fun. Jeffrey Jones recalled the names of some calypso songs he knew growing up and a crewmember procured a cassette of Harry Belafonte’s “Day-O” (aka “The Banana Boat Song”). After several days, they showed Burton, who approved the music change because the Maitlands being on vacation made it plausible they’d choose calypso.
David Geffen called Harry Belafonte personally to secure the rights. It was so cheap (reportedly $300), he decided to buy several of his songs. They replaced the end song, Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman”, with Belafonte’s “Jump in the Line”. Burton worried that few would find it funny but preview audiences loved it, becoming synonymous with the movie, as well as the actors in the scene. “Day-O” played at Glenn Shadix’s memorial in 2010.
Preview audiences found the first cut difficult to follow. Reshoots were ordered by Warner to connect plot points better. Scenes where the Maitlands attempt to escape their home into different dangerous dimensions were made into one recurring desert landscape with ghost-eating sandworms. Burton thought throwing too many effects sequences ruined the story’s pacing and minimized the potency of various surprises.
Burton wasn’t keen on the script’s ending of Betelgeuse chased by a sandworm for eternity in the model town. Preview audience reactions confirmed his suspicions; they liked the character and wanted something more upbeat. They added an introductory scene of Betelgeuse reading the paper looking for work and filmed two alternate endings showing Betelgeuse in the waiting room. In one, the witch doctor shrinks Betelgeuse’s head and in the other Betelgeuse is stuck listening to the recently deceased Old Bill (the barber whose shop neighbors the Maitland hardware store) jabbering incessantly – until Betelgeuse’s head pops off. Preview audiences preferred the shrunken head ending. Added scenes came at the expense of early scenes showing more of the closeness of the Maitlands relationship.
Danny Elfman returns as Burton’s go-to composer. One studio exec thought Elfman’s score was too dark, but audiences ranked the film highly with Elfman’s score and poorly without it so it remained.
Warner felt Beetlejuice too high-concept to market, with no defined genre or sellable story. Even those involved in making the film were skeptical it would find an audience given it’s a weird little film with low-grade effects work. They determined to dump it into a thousand theaters and recoup what they could in its opening weekend. They polled teens in malls if they’d rather see a film called Beetlejuice or some variation with Ghosts in the title. They determined House Ghosts was most accessible. Burton sarcastically responded, “Why not call it Scared Sheetless?” The studio actually considered that until Burton threatened he’d jump out the window. David Geffen stepped in and insisted on no title change.
Critics were mixed, but the public loved it. Beetlejuice debuted at #1 at the US box-office where it remained four consecutive weeks. It earned $73 million in its US theatrical run, becoming the tenth highest-grossing film of 1988, enough for Warner to immediately greenlight Burton’s Batman. Its make-up effects won its sole Oscar nomination. Beetlejuice began Burton’s consideration as an auteur. His prior film had given credit to Pee-Wee Herman’s style of comedy but now is recognized as a signature Burton film.
Although initially labeled as nonsense, Burton delivers themes that encourage enjoying life because death doesn’t end one’s problems. In Lydia, he also explores his recurrent character of an alienated outsider finding contentment within so-called normal society. Bizarreness forms a more interesting reality.
Beetlejuice is a stylishly fun film with brilliantly inventive moments. Michael Keaton is terrific, with an energetic supporting cast. Burton is masterful at aesthetics, especially in concert with Elfman’s score. It’s built more on flights of fancy than suspense, but its numerous delightful moments overcome its flaws.
- Burton planned Beetlejuice II as early as 1989. Larry Wilson pitched a story where Charles Deetz falls for Barbara Maitland’s ghost. Skaaren wrote Beetlejuice in Love featuring a love triangle between Betelgeuse, an opera singer, and her dead fiancee. After Skaaren died of bone cancer in 1990, it was scrapped and they started a new script by Jonathan Gems, Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian, with Betelgeuse haunting Charles Deetz at a hotel development but on sacred Kahuna’s burial grounds. Burton called it a German Expressionist surf movie. Heathers screenwriter Daniel Waters provided a revision, as did Pamela Norris in 1993. In 1996, Kevin Smith was given the choice of writing either Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian or Superman Lives for Burton and chose the latter.
- In 2011, Dark Shadows‘ screenwriter Seth Grahame Smith wrote a new script. Mike Vukadinovich revised in 2017.
- Spun off into an Emmy-winning cartoon series that ran four seasons, a Universal Studios attraction, video games, children’s books, comics, and a Broadway musical in 2018.
Qwipster’s rating: A-
MPAA Rated: PG for disturbing images
Running Time: 92 min.
Cast: Michael Keaton, Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin, Catherine O’Hara, Winona Ryder, Jeffrey Jones, Robert Goulet
Cameo: Dick Cavett, Susan Kellerman
Director: Tim Burton
Screenplay: Michael McDowell, Warren Skaaren