Who’s gonna believe the star of such dramas as Dopesick and Clean and Sober could possibly headline a comedy?

Seems only fair if the Ghostbusters can stage a comeback tour decades past their prime, so can one of the biggest ghosts they never caught, right?

I was 15 when a young Tim Burton followed up his feature debut, the wacky and eminently quotable Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure (in theaters when he was only 27!), with the even wackier and definitely more expensive Beetlejuice. The first few times I saw it, his hyperactive imagination, his fanciful take on afterlife bureaucracy, his mixed-media creations, and the ensemble’s zest were a welcome escape from reality into fun-house tomfoolery. But the more times I watched it, the more I noticed cracks in the seams and nitpicking got easier. Apart from a few low-key exceptions over the next few decades (Big Eyes, Big Fish) I’d come to accept Burton generally has little vested interest in narrative coherence. Many of his works are thin clotheslines from which he hangs edgy gags, fantastical monstrosities, and non sequitur set-pieces that were fun to draw in his concept sketchbooks and entertain best if you don’t pay close attention to what’s happening. They’re popcorn flicks for us art-class loners.

Now Burton is 66, our ghost-with-the-most Michael Keaton is a 73-year-old Emmy Award Winner, and I’m a middle-aged married loner, but 36 years later, here we all go again with Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. The old pals and two-time Bat-collaborators have locked elbows for a new nostalgia-fest with much of the same gags, same lines, same makeup ‘n’ wardrobe, same nearly everything.

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