“This is already the best exorcism I have ever been to!” That line should help inform your proclivity towards Beetlejuice. When it opened last spring, a number of critics wrote that the funhouse antics (predictably) overwhelmed their delicate senses. Au contraire! Based on the 1988 Tim Burton film, this adaption is absolutely everything you want a big Broadway musical comedy to be.
The atmosphere is already percolating when you take your seat. Chandeliers are outfitted with green lights. The super friendly ushers seem to be in the best mood. (Note to theater owners and house managers: pop in to the Winter Garden and see what great customer service can look like.) Multi-colored spotlights enhance the party vibe. A BETELGEUSE sign hangs with an arrow pointing to a small opening in the curtain. Smoke is billowing out.
A funeral opens the show and Lydia’s mother has passed away. Beetlejuice jumps in on the action to let us know that this is a show about death. “The Whole ‘Being Dead’ Thing” is a riotous kickoff setting the stage for the gazillion one liners, hilarious meta theater references and insanely clever visuals that follow.
Beetlejuice is a demon from hell and describes himself as “a ghost zombie Jesus.” He is invisible to living beings. His devilish plan can be enacted if someone will say his name three times. Barbara and Adam are a childless married couple. “What’s the point of having children when you are drowning in debt?” They quickly die. Beetlejuice intercepts their Handbook For the Recently Diseased so they remain earthbound for haunting purposes. Will someone say his name three times? You betcha.
Charles and daughter Lydia buy the recently available home and move in with Delia, Lydia’s moronic grief adviser and Daddy’s secret lover. The stage is set for haunted house hijinks. Sophia Anne Caruso (Lazarus) is a gothic and moody delight as Lydia. Her “Dead Mom” solo is one of the many high points delivered by an exceptionally accomplished cast.
Rob McClure (Chaplin) and Kerry Butler (Mean Girls, Xanadu) are the newly diseased trying to learn how to be scary in “Fright of Their Lives.” Both shine brightly in creating these adorably inept ghosts. Adam Dannheisser (Oslo) and Leslie Kritzer (The Robber Bridegroom) are priceless as the unfeeling Dad and the dimwitted psychotherapist. Ms. Kritzer also plays a second character in Act II because she is so damn funny. Why not?
Alex Brightman is extraordinarily entertaining as Beetlejuice. He is both the ringmaster and the clown in this tongue-in-cheek spookfest. Line after line lands a bulls-eye. The varied vocalizations he employs are remarkably effective. I loved his performance a few years back in School of Rock. This performance is at another level and, in my mind, is clearly the best one from this past Broadway season. Michael Keaton was vividly memorable in the movie. Mr. Brightman impressively manages to eclipse that memory.
Eddie Perfect’s music and lyrics are witty and tuneful. The book by Scott Brown and Anthony King is sharp and smart. Everyone seems to relish the source material and has lovingly transformed the story. This production is not simply a rehash of the film like many other Broadway recreations. Beetlejuice has been reimagined for the stage. At the same time, this musical is incredibly faithful to the film’s reliance on wild antics and Tim Burton’s unparalleled style.
If all that weren’t enough, the creative team deserves kudos for countless moments of ungodly excess. David Korins’ scenic design is gloriously inventive, adding splendiferous visuals to this manic mayhem. The costumes (William Ivey Long) approach musical comedy perfection and, in the case of Ms. Kritzer’s Act II gown, exceed it.
Connor Gallagher’s choreography was fantastically possessed and energetically executed. The ensemble is used brilliantly and sporadically. They aren’t forced into scenes unnecessarily. When they are utilized for the big numbers, the impact is stronger as a result.
All credit for this avalanche of musical theater otherworldliness must be given to director Alex Timbers (Moulin Rouge!, Peter and the Starcatcher). When you aim to take the ghoulish fun of Halloween, blow it up into a spectacular amusement and succeed to this level of excellence, I must invoke the Broadway poltergeists and chant “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.” Three visits to this oddball Broadway charmer might be the ideal dosage for happiness on any spiritual plane.