★★★★★
Beetlejuice the Musical has officially possessed QPAC’s Lyric Theatre, and Brisbane seems more than happy to hand over the keys to the afterlife.
I love an opening night. There is something about the energy in the room that makes everything feel tenfold. The audience is either dressed to the nines, dressed as their favourite character, or, in the case of Beetlejuice, dressed as if they have just come from a very stylish funeral and are absolutely thrilled about it. From the red carpet to the first roar of applause, Brisbane gave this strange and unusual visitor the welcome he deserved.
After making its Australian exclusive debut in Melbourne last year, Beetlejuice then ventured halfway across the world for a ten-show season in Abu Dhabi before announcing an Australian tour, with Brisbane getting the first bite of the apple.
Or perhaps, given the show, the first bite of the recently deceased. Either way, it has arrived at QPAC with a bang, a scream, a sandworm, and more theatrical chaos than any sensible person should be able to fit into two and a half hours.
For those, like me, who have never seen the Tim Burton classic, Beetlejuice, at its core, is about grief and loneliness. Sounds kind of wholesome, until you realise it also contains giant puppets, more dirty jokes than a Jim Jeffries stand-up routine and a demon in a striped suit yelling at the audience.
But that’s also kind of why it works. It shifts effortlessly between being bright, loud and ridiculous and gently poking at loneliness, loss and what it means to be seen. It’s nonsensical until suddenly it’s not. Then, just as you think the show is about to have a sincere little cry, it throws a severed head at you and runs off laughing.
A huge part of that comes down to the music and lyrics by Australia’s own Eddie Perfect. His lyrics feel like Lin-Manuel Miranda and Tim Minchin had a baby who grew up and had a near-death experience, took a couple of shots of tequila, then decided to write a musical while being chased through the underworld.
The lyrics are smart, weird, and completely unafraid of being too much at times. In fairness, though, that is kind of the point. It is by far one of the most chaotic musicals ever written, and I do mean that in the best possible way. It doesn’t so much as walk the line between madness and genius as dance along it with tap shoes and ghouls in striped suits.
Visually, the production is a feast for the eyes, assuming the feast has been catered by the recently dead. David Korins’ scenic design is extraordinary, constantly shifting, twisting and surprising the audience with every new reveal. The house itself feels alive, or at least undead, and the stage becomes a playground for the bizarre.
Kenneth Posner’s lighting design adds another layer of madness, with bold colours dancing across the stage like ghoulish characters in their own right. The whole thing is restless, alive and ready to pounce.
Then there are William Ivey Long’s costumes, which are nothing short of superb. Beetlejuice’s iconic black-and-white suit is already one of musical theatre’s most recognisable looks, but this production amplifies it brilliantly, particularly during That Beautiful Sound, where the visual gag is pushed to absolute breaking point.
Lydia’s gothic styling is also perfect, never feeling like a costume-party version of sadness, but rather an extension of who she is. Across the board, the costumes are theatrical, detailed and completely delicious. If this is what the afterlife looks like, bury me well-dressed.
When I saw the Melbourne production last year, Eddie Perfect lived up to his last name as the titular character. I genuinely did not think anyone could top him, and though it feels slightly brutal to say this, especially given he was sitting three rows back from us, Andy Karl summoned another twenty per cent out of thin air.
His Beetlejuice is chaotic, over-the-top, razor sharp and completely insurmountable. Alex Brightman may have originated the role, and Eddie Perfect-ed it, but Andy Karl is easily the ghost with the most.
And then of course, there is Karis Oka, who just entirely knocks the role of Lydia Deetz out of the cemetery. She gives the kind of performance that makes you entirely forget about who originated the role and who has played it since.
Lydia Deetz is hers and hers alone. She finds so much inside the role. She’s funny, warm, and wonderfully weird, all the while possessing a voice that could fill the underworld and make Satan himself cry a little.
Her Dead Mom is obviously a big moment, and yes, she absolutely tears through it, but it never feels like she is just standing there waiting to belt. There is grief in it, anger too. A bit of teenage stubbornness. All the messy stuff that makes Lydia actually feel like a person rather than just a girl in black with a great song.
She alone is a big part of why we need an Australian cast recording, but also, move over Milkshake Man and Deltra Goodram because my bid for Eurovision 2027 is Karis Oka as Lydia Deetz singing an Eddie Perfect original!
I also want to give a special mention to Rebecca Ordiz, who stepped into the role of Lydia during a preview performance just 48 hours earlier, which my girlfriend and I were lucky enough to see. Rest assured, the show is in very safe hands with its understudies. Ordiz was a standout in her own right, bringing the power, humour and emotional punch the role demands.
Jenni Little and Rob Johnson are a perfectly awkward delight as the Maitlands. Their characters could easily become background spirits in a show this loud, but both bring so much warmth and charm to the afterlife.
They are sweet, strange, vocally brilliant and beautifully matched. Their wholesome panic gives the show a lovely centre, even when everything around them is going completely off the rails.
Erin Clare, meanwhile, seems born to play Delia. Her crystal-loving life coach energy is so alarmingly natural that I am not entirely convinced she is acting. She finds every ridiculous beat and somehow makes Delia both absurd and oddly lovable.
Tom Wren also kills it as Charles Deetz, the awkward widowed girl-dad trying to keep his family together while absolutely no one, living or dead, makes that easy for him.
By the final bow, Beetlejuice the Musical had well and truly raised the roof, and possibly a few bodies with it. It’s rare to see a show this technically massive, comedically sharp and emotionally sincere all working at the same time, but this production somehow manages it.
It’s messy in the same way that life is messy. Loud in the way grief can be loud. And funny in the way we sometimes need things to be funny when the alternative is falling apart.
I have seen more than 50 different musicals across three continents, and I can say without hesitation that Beetlejuice is one of the best shows, with one of the best casts, I have ever seen. It’s strange, unusual, hilarious, heartfelt and completely alive, which is ironic, considering almost everyone in it is dead.
Brisbane, say his name. Then say it again. Then say it a third time, because this one is worth summoning.
Beetlejuice The Musical is presented by Michael Cassel Group and runs to 2 August at the Lyric Theatre, QPAC as part of a national tour.
See dates below.
Tickets: https://beetlejuicethemusical.com.au/tickets/brisbane/
Website: https://beetlejuicethemusical.com.au/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/beetlejuiceaus/
Hero image: Eugene Hyland
2026 Australian Tour:
Perth from 16 August, Crown Theatre
Adelaide from 10 October, Festival Theatre
Sydney from 21 November, Capitol Theatre
