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Beetlejuice is something that’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It’s been one of my favorite films for just as long, and over the years my love of it always surges back up into prominence one way or another. This most recent wave of it came last year on Halloween when an animatic by Nicole Rodriguez or Shnikkles was brought to my attention.

After an incredible amount of work and dedication, Shnikkles released a gorgeous animatic set to one of the songs from the Beetlejuice musical. I had been aware of the musical for a while. However, due to not being able to see it and that bumming me out, I had chosen to avoid anything to do with it despite the series (and character) meaning so much to me. This time, however, I gave in and watched it. (And so should you, it’s incredible.)

This sparked my desire to see the musical desperately, which I did through both “unofficial” means, as well as official ones, when I flew across the country and saw the tour in North Carolina. All versions that I’ve seen have been wonderful for many reasons, but also all loudly queer.

The queerness isn’t new, however. As with a lot of horror, the sense of being the “other” is inherently queer in its subtext. In this case specifically, Lydia’s “I myself am strange and unusual” line, I would bet, is in part as popular as it is because it resonates so much with people, especially queer ones. I think Barbara’s follow-up to her declaration is just as important though, because Barbara assures her gently that she’s just a regular girl. Barb isn’t undermining Lydia’s feelings; she’s letting her know that it’s okay to be different, be it because she’s goth or otherwise. Just because Lydia’s parents treat her as a bit of a black sheep for her black clothes and morbid fascinations doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with her. She just has interests that diverge from what they’d prefer. That’s why it’s her parents that have to do some growing as people by the end of the film. Which they do, thanks to a certain catalyst.

That catalyst, of course, is Beetlejuice himself. Intentionally or not, he breaks the nuclear family of mother, father, and child by his invasion into their lives. By the end of the film, it’s now two sets of parents co-parenting Lydia all in one house. If not for his stepping in (though not at all intending to do any kind of saving), Adam and Barbara would have been gone for good, either from going to the Netherworld or thanks to Otho’s meddling. Beetlejuice also gives Charles and Delia enough of a wild shock to make them realize that they need to appreciate their daughter more and be grateful they didn’t lose her. Not even simply lose her to Beetlejuice either, but specifically lose her to the suicide she was planning.

It’s deeply unfortunate, but the truth of the matter is suicide and self-harm are connected to queerness as well. More specifically, the smothering of it. So many kids and adults alike who have who they are strangled into silence feel it’s the only avenue they have left. It’s not the queerness that causes it. It’s the rampant queerphobia. Lydia feels she would be better off dead, that she would then be safe and accepted with the Maitlands rather than stuck with the living family that doesn’t hear or see her. She feels like she is already one step away from being a ghost as is because of being ignored, so why not embrace it? Luckily, the Deetz are the type of parents who were simply ignorant to the fact they were shoving their daughter in that direction, and were able to change course and embrace her for who she was. All queer people deserve for that to be the case.

While in the film Beetlejuice wholly unintentionally leads to queer acceptance, the cartoon decided to make it intentional (whether it meant to or not). Beetlejuice is no longer the antagonist, he’s Lydia’s best friend, and they deeply care about each other while being fully and beautifully platonic (thank god). They’re their own little queer found family, supporting each other unabashedly in their oddities and unusualness.

Lydia does have a few human friends who honestly could be seen as lesbians with how they always come as a package pair and have their own episodes of finding freedom and expression, thanks to Lydia and BJ. Even with them, though, she’s still generally an outsider. Meanwhile, in the Neitherworld, everyone loves her and hates Beetlejuice. Even in a society of monsters, he’s still seen as an “other.” He also has a few neighbors that still care about him at the end of the day despite all the trouble he causes. However, Lydia is his ride-or-die. They don’t like to spend much time apart, and Beetlejuice especially gets easily distressed about time away from her. And while they do fight sometimes, they always reconcile because they’re each other’s safest place to be themselves.

It’s also notable in the cartoon that Beetlejuice regularly makes himself femme and goes by she/her pronouns as “Betty(juice),” and while it’s namely to be able to spend time with Lydia at her all-girls school, he never indicates having any problem with it at all. He’s just as loud, brash, and gross as always and thus seems perfectly comfortable. Beetlejuice being trans in some way or another just makes sense in the long run because why would a shapeshifting, rule-hating, chaotic being box himself in with just one gender?

Beetlejuice and his skeleton neighbor Jacques also have one of the cutest and most easily seen as gay relationships in the series. Jacques is much more patient with him than anyone else aside from Lydia. He’s always warm and friendly to him despite the trouble he causes and the tricks he plays. BJ himself tends to be slightly less needling to Jacques than he is to anyone else, Lyds once again excluded. Very specifically, in an episode where Beetlejuice’s skeletons are escaping the closet and telling everyone all the lies he’s told, all of which are generally harsh or hurtful, the one for Jacques simply tells him that Beetlejuice likes him and simply acts like he doesn’t. Jacques is elated about it, much to BJ’s chagrin.

“Is it being greedy to need somebody to see me
And say my name?”

When it comes to the musical, the queerness is both text and subtext. Beetlejuice is notably just as much into Adam, if not more so than Barbara, repeatedly hitting on him and calling him sexy. It’s also just generally infused into his character, there’s a flamboyant nature to him that sets off gay little alarm bells, and I mean that in the most affectionate and positive way.

“You’re my home
My destination
And I’m your clone
Your strange creation
You held my hand
And life came easy
Now jokes don’t land
And no one sees me”

Once again, though, its themes of feeling isolated hit deeply with a queer lens. Beetlejuice and Lydia are two sides of the same coin; both are desperate to be seen and heard, as well as have a place that feels like home. They both sing songs related to this fact repeatedly and team up ultimately because they are loudest together than apart. They are two beings who feel completely invisible (or is, in fact, invisible in Beetlejuice’s case) until she summons him with an explosion of noise and attention. They both crave being embraced for who they are, but in their desperation for it, they aren’t able to see that they have what they need right in front of them if they would just express themselves fully. But of course, they’re afraid to. Being vulnerable about yourself is terrifying. Whether you’re a millennia-old demon or a 16-year-old girl, bearing your hurt to someone and having them hold your heart in their hands takes a lot of courage. Lydia’s one safest person died and left her, and Beetlejuice never had one.

“You always saw life as a game
But since you left it sucks to play
I’m beaten up and bruised
Confused by rules that alter every day
Where to next?
You left but I’m still standing”

Very specifically, in fact, Beetlejuice’s mom in the musical is Juno, and she says outright that the reason she and the Netherworld on the whole (whether due to her being in charge of it or otherwise) rejected him was because of how much he wanted to be loved. He craves care and affection more than anything, but all he was met with was an abusive mother and an absent father. Many queer people can relate to simply wanting to love and be loved for themselves, and while BJ certainly makes a lot of mistakes, he ultimately isn’t such a bad demon to see yourself in. He gets a happy enough ending, with the potential to make amends with the Deetz and Maitland household in the future.

“I’m gonna go back home
Adam, Barbara, Delia, and Dad
It’s messy, but they’re all that I have
I’ll make the best of being flesh and bone
Mama I’m going home”

Speaking of the Deetz and Maitland household, I also really appreciated that (unintentionally or not) it felt a lot more like the beginning of a polyamorous relationship with the two couples becoming one unit, rather than staying separate and co-parenting as with the film. We see Charles dance with Barbara and Adam with Delia during the final number, for a good amount of it as well, and something about it to me just feels close. Regardless, in the end, Lydia has found her home and support system to be herself without fear, just as every queer person deserves. No matter the iteration, that’s the ongoing thread: acceptance of the (queerly) strange and unusual.

“Seek a little strange and unusual
And you will find
Life beyond all comprehension
A mess in multiple dimensions
A little unconventional, I know
But, Mama, I’m home”