Regent Theatre, Melbourne.
17 May 2025.
Erupting with colour, chaos, and choreographic flair, Beetlejuice The Musical has landed at Melbourne’s Regent Theatre in spectacular style. This Australian production, directed by Alex Timbers and produced by the Michael Cassel Group and Warner Bros. Theatre Ventures, is an anarchic yet cohesive celebration of the macabre, the hilarious and the surprisingly heartfelt – and is anchored by a movement vocabulary as bold and bizarre as its titular character.
Based on Tim Burton’s 1988 cult film, the musical – with music and lyrics by Eddie Perfect and a book by Scott Brown and Anthony King – doesn’t merely adapt its source material; it expands upon it. Where Burton’s original veered into quirky camp and macabre whimsy, Perfect’s musical deepens the narrative and sharpens the laughs, adding surprising emotional nuance without losing any of the grotesque charm that fans hold dear. The writing is consistently clever, with songs that are both catchy and unafraid to confront uncomfortable truths – Creepy Old Guy takes a jab at child marriage in a way that is both hilarious and sobering. It’s bold, necessary and brilliantly executed. Bravo, Mr. Perfect.
In a stroke of genius, Eddie Perfect himself takes on the title role – and it’s a revelation. His Beetlejuice is foul-mouthed, fourth-wall breaking and deeply engaging. Perfect is magnetic, oscillating between grotesque and endearing. His performance is physical and elastic; he moves through space with cartoonish contortions and comedic agility, breaking the fourth wall with ease ad playing the audience like a mischievous conductor.
Movement, in fact, is one of the great triumphs of this production. Connor Gallagher’s choreography fuses classic musical theatre with comedic exaggeration and physical theatre, tailored to fit the show’s heightened reality. A particularly memorable sequence in “Say My Name” sees multiple Beetlejuice clones erupt onto the stage in a frenzied ensemble number. With tumbling, quickfire spatial shifts, and idiosyncratic gestures, the dancers mimic the rapid cuts and surreal logic of animation. It is a masterclass in character movement – from a Beetlejuice who loses both arms and flails around with red stumps, to others who skitter and twist like cockroaches. Each movement is absurd, precise and purpose-driven.
What is most striking is how every character is given their own physical language. These movement quirks are never overpowering, but always additive – enhancing characterisation while maintaining choreographic clarity. The ensemble’s bodywork is tight and clean, but never mechanical; instead, it flows organically from the script and score, amplifying the emotional and comedic tone of each scene.
As Lydia Deetz, Karis Oka is phenomenal. Her voice is nothing short of astonishing, with a range and emotional clarity that ground the show’s more outrageous elements. Oka’s youthful appearance and nuanced physicality help her convincingly embody the angsty teen, and her portrayal brings real heart to the supernatural madness swirling around her. In moments of grief and introspection, she holds the space with stillness and restraint. In numbers like “Dead Mom”, her movement and vocal arcs swell with aching urgency, providing physical weight to her character’s emotional journey.
Erin Clare’s Delia is another highlight – her comedic instincts are razor sharp, and she provides a perfect counterbalance to Beetlejuice’s anarchic humour. Clare’s portrayal brings unexpected depth and warmth to a character that could be played as little more than a punchline.
David Korins’ set design is a marvel of quirky lines and crooked dimensions, shifting fluidly between rooms and realms. The twisting staircase – a portal to the house’s mysterious “upstairs”, is used particularly well, adding depth and theatrical trickery that enhance the storytelling. William Ivey Long’s costumes further underscore the characters’ offbeat personas, using layers, textures and thoughtful detail to bolster the show’s eccentric tone.
The use of puppetry, designed by Michael Curry, adds another dimension to the production’s kinetic spectacle. A dancing roast pig, a hand that pops out of a food tray during “Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)”, and the enormous sandworm are all brought to life with seamless integration. These otherworldly elements aren’t just visual gags – they’re extensions of the show’s physical language, expanding the choreography into unexpected dimensions.
Director Alex Timbers steers the madness with flair, keeping the pacing snappy while allowing space for emotional beats to land. This production proves that this irreverent, boundary-pushing musical is not just a crowd-pleaser, but a deeply theatrical, cohesive and smartly conceived show.
Melbourne, you’re in for one hell of a haunting. Beetlejuice is outrageous, heartfelt and utterly unmissable. Whether you’re drawn to its ghoulish gags, its sharp social commentary or simply its endless energy, Beetlejuice is a hauntingly good time, and a choreographic delight.
By Linda Badger of Dance Informa.
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