Beetlejuice

The ensemble deserves recognition because they often feel like the machinery keeping the strange world turning. They do much more than occupy the background; they create movement and atmosphere throughout the production. They shift between characters and energies with impressive fluidity, helping scenes transform almost instantly. In a show built around chaos, the ensemble provides the precision needed for that chaos to work. There is a constant sense that the world extends beyond the principal characters because of the energy they bring to the stage. The production itself moves with the energy of a dream after eating too much sugar. One minute the stage seems familiar and the next it appears to have developed ideas of its own. Nothing sits still long enough to become comfortable. What stays with me afterwards is not the spectacle or even the comedy but the odd feeling that beneath all the ghosts, absurdity and mayhem, the musical quietly asks a very simple question: what do people do when life suddenly becomes unfamiliar? Whilst most shows ask you to watch them, Beetlejuice behaves more like it has invited itself into your head and plans to stay there for a while. 

Alex Timbers direction gives the production its restless pulse. Scenes move with the confidence of a show that knows standing still would be a mistake. There is a feeling that the audience is being gently pushed forward before there is time to settle and that momentum suits the story perfectly. David Korins set design feels alive. Rather than behaving like scenery placed behind the actors, it seems to participate in the performance. Rooms appear to shift in personality, spaces transform unexpectedly and the stage often carries the feeling that it may reveal another surprise if looked at for long enough, if anything we wanted to see more of the scene changes instead of the over used purple curtain. 

William Ivey Long’s costumes add another layer of personality. Beetlejuice’s appearance carries exactly the sort of chaotic energy expected from someone who treats rules as optional. Lydia’s darker visual style creates a sharp contrast against the strange world surrounding her, while the wider costume choices help define characters almost immediately. There is a theatrical boldness to the designs exaggerated when necessary, strange when useful, but never so overwhelming that the characters disappear underneath.