Seen November 16, featuring the Trisha Paytas casting that broke the internet and possibly the underworld.
Broadway has always been a little haunted. Some theatres claim ghosts; others merely host them. But Beetlejuice doesn’t wait for spirits to wander in – it drags them onstage, shoves them under a strobe light, and hands them a mic.
On November 16, I entered the Palace Theatre feeling like I was walking into a carnival that had swallowed a Hot Topic, an EDM festival, and a Tim Burton retrospective all at once. That’s the charm of Beetlejuice: it never apologizes. It barely even explains itself. It arrives, loud and neon and morally suspect, and dares you to keep up.
And then there was Trisha Paytas – the wildcard casting choice the universe did not predict, but somehow makes perfect sense in a show that thrives on chaos.
Let’s talk.
THE SHOW: A SUPERNATURAL ROLLERCOASTER WITH A MISCHIEF PROBLEM
Beetlejuice has never tried to be subtle. It is the theatrical equivalent of a poltergeist doing jazz hands while setting your living room on fire.
The revival leans hard into spectacle:
- Sets that move like they’re alive. Walls that breathe. Stairs that slither.
- Lighting that feels like a possession. Pulsing greens and violets straight out of a demon’s rave playlist.
- Puppetry and visual gags that flirt shamelessly with absurdity.
It’s a show that wants – no – needs to overwhelm you. And on Nov 16, it succeeded.
But somewhere in all that glittery chaos, there’s still the beating heart of Lydia’s grief, the Maitlands’ existential panic, and Beetlejuice’s gleeful nihilism. The emotional threads are there, but they’re often whispering behind a wall of screaming décor.
TRISHA PAYTAS AS MAXINE DEAN:
THE CHAOTIC NEUTRAL ENERGY THE SHOW DIDN’T KNOW IT NEEDED
Let’s be honest: Trisha Paytas on Broadway sounds like a dare. And maybe it was. But she stepped into Maxine Dean with:
- joyful recklessness,
- a wink at her own pop-culture baggage,
- and an energy that said, “If Broadway won’t let me in the front door, I’ll shimmy down the chimney with glitter.”
What struck me was her fearlessness. She didn’t come onstage to prove she belonged. She came onstage because she wanted to play, and the audience felt that.
There is something oddly perfect about watching a show that celebrates the unhinged while featuring a performer who understands the art of being delightfully unhinged. Her scenes were fully alive – quirky, self-aware, big, bold – exactly the tonal frequency this show thrives on.
And yes, there were moments of roughness.
But Beetlejuice isn’t a show that demands polish.
It demands commitment.
And Trisha brought every ounce of hers.
THE GOOD:
WHERE THE SHOW HITS LIKE A SUPERNATURAL SLEDGEHAMMER
- The ensemble is a living organism. Every moment is kinetic, precise, and deliciously unrestrained.
- Comedy lands hard. Beetlejuice remains one of the great modern comedic leads – a trickster demigod with ADHD and a microphone.
- The “Day-O” sequence remains one of Broadway’s most joyful fever dreams.
- The crowd energy was electric. A theatre full of people ready to scream, cheer, and welcome chaos is a rare thing.
THE NOT-AS-GOOD:
WHERE THE MADNESS OUTRUNS ITS MUSCLE
- Emotional depth is sometimes sacrificed on the altar of spectacle.
- Certain musical moments evaporate the moment they end.
- Transitions occasionally feel more “haunted house maze” than narrative arc.
But honestly?
It feels intentional.
Beetlejuice is not trying to be the next soulful Broadway epic. It’s trying to be the theatrical equivalent of chugging a can of Monster Energy at a Victorian seance.
And on that metric, it succeeds wildly.
THE AUDIENCE EXPERIENCE:
A COLLECTIVE POSSESSION
This crowd was ready.
From the moment Beetlejuice slithered onstage, the house buzzed like someone had plugged the balcony into a wall socket.
When Paytas entered?
A ripple of curiosity, excitement, and “oh God, what’s she going to do?” swept through the rows. But she won the room — not by perfection, but by presence.
Broadway loves confidence.
And she had it in spades.
THE VERDICT:
A BEAUTIFUL, BONKERS, BRILLIANT NIGHT AT THE THEATRE
Beetlejuice isn’t a show you interpret.
It’s a show you survive.
And love.
And laugh through.
And emerge from like you just rode a ghost-themed Tilt-A-Whirl that may or may not have been haunted by a theatre kid.
The Nov 16 performance was outrageous, messy, vibrant, and very much alive — exactly what a show about charming dead people should be.
Rating:
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for spectacle
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for chaos
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for Trisha Paytas being the most Broadway-appropriate non-Broadway person imaginable
⭐️⭐️⭐️ for emotional clarity (but honestly, who cares)
If you want nuance, go see The Inheritance.
If you want catharsis, go see Hadestown.
If you want a haunted house musical where the walls scream louder than the actors… you know exactly where to go.
Brian Brijbag 