More than thirty-five years since Michael Keaton first cackled his way into cult legend status, Tim Burton resurrects his ghostly mischief-maker for one more ride in Beetlejuice 3. This sequel leans into its legacy, delivering the same blend of macabre comedy, gothic visuals, and chaotic trickster energy that made the original a classic. With Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis returning as the Maitlands, and Burton back in the director’s chair, the film feels like a reunion both joyous and unhinged.
The setup is deceptively simple: Barbara and Adam Maitland (Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin), after decades of spectral domestic peace, find their home invaded by a new family whose chaos upends the fragile balance of the afterlife. Unable to manage on their own, they reluctantly call upon the very entity they once swore off: Beetlejuice. It’s a classic “deal with the devil” scenario, except the devil here is crass, rude, and has a talent for turning every problem into apocalyptic slapstick.
Michael Keaton doesn’t just return to the role — he owns it with the same manic brilliance as in 1988. Time hasn’t dulled Beetlejuice’s vulgarity or his giddy cruelty. If anything, he’s more unhinged now, unleashed on a bigger stage where his tricks blur the barrier between the living and the dead on a scale no one anticipates. Keaton’s performance is a masterclass in controlled chaos, a reminder of why the character endures as one of Burton’s greatest creations.
Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis slide effortlessly back into the roles of Barbara and Adam, their nervous sweetness acting as the perfect foil to Beetlejuice’s mayhem. Their chemistry hasn’t aged a bit, and their exasperated attempts to manage the chaos feel like slipping back into old slippers—comfortable, but constantly on the edge of unraveling. The film smartly positions them not as action heroes but as reluctant caretakers of a world spinning out of control.
Tim Burton’s fingerprints are everywhere. His gothic flair remains intact: crooked staircases, eerie miniature towns, carnival-colored nightmares bleeding into suburbia. The visual design feels like a love letter to his earlier work—equal parts Edward Scissorhands, Corpse Bride, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Burton thrives on collision: the ordinary and the grotesque, the heartfelt and the horrific, the tender and the absurd. Beetlejuice 3 doubles down on that formula, creating a surreal playground where every frame is bursting with invention.
The humor is as twisted as ever. Expect plenty of crude one-liners, slapstick horror gags, and the kind of absurd, fourth-wall-breaking antics only Beetlejuice could pull off. Yet beneath the grotesque comedy, Burton threads a surprisingly poignant theme: the messiness of existence doesn’t end with death. The afterlife, like life itself, is full of compromise, chaos, and unfinished business. It’s that bittersweet undercurrent that keeps the laughter from feeling hollow.
Of course, with a legacy this big, expectations run high. Some fans may find the film a little too reliant on callbacks, with familiar gags polished up rather than reinvented. But others will see that very familiarity as part of the fun—an intentional celebration of what made Beetlejuice iconic. Where other reboots aim to reinvent, Beetlejuice 3 embraces its role as a reunion tour, turning nostalgia into a playground rather than a crutch.
The scale, however, is undeniably larger. Where the first film kept most of its chaos confined to a single haunted house, this entry cracks the doors wide open. Beetlejuice’s antics bleed into entire towns, courtrooms of the dead, and surreal landscapes that feel plucked straight out of Burton’s sketchbook. The escalation feels fitting — if Beetlejuice is back, he’s not going to settle for small tricks. He’s here to tear the curtain down.
In the end, Beetlejuice 3 thrives on energy, spectacle, and personality. Keaton’s feral charm, Burton’s gothic whimsy, and the Maitlands’ awkward sincerity combine into a package that’s funny, unsettling, and weirdly comforting. It’s not just a return to form — it’s a reminder of how joyfully chaotic Burton’s best worlds can be.
⭐ Anticipated Rating: ★★★★☆ (8.6/10)
“Say it once, say it twice… and on the third time, it’s pure mayhem.”
