The new “Beetlejuice” is a ghost of its former self.

Michael Keaton’s title trickster demon possessed our pop-culture hearts 36 years ago, blasting director Tim Burton’s utterly gonzo imagination all over the big screen in a genre-annihilating horror comedy no one had ever seen before. (The 1988 classic also opened up a generation of kids to the peculiar beauty of scary movies.) The sequel “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” (★★½ out of four; rated PG-13; in theaters Friday) boasts a big heart and fleeting moments of inspired fun, often featuring Keaton’s moldy-faced menace. Compared to the brilliant original, however, the overstuffed follow-up lacks the same unhinged, kooky magic.

Though uneven, the film shows Burton is back in the business of creating spooky spectacle as he crafts interesting echoes between the two films: for example, Harry Belafonte singing “Day-O” is the signature riff of the first “Beetlejuice,” while pop epic “MacArthur Park” plays a similar tune here. Also, while Winona Ryder, as Lydia Deetz, was Miss Goth Teen 1988, decades later Jenna Ortega is perfectly cast as daughter Astrid, her rebellious heir apparent.

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“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” mostly centers on the estrangement between mother and daughter. Lydia, who Beetlejuice tried to marry back in the day, continues to be haunted by occasional visions of the weirdo now that she's a celebrity TV psychic. Overall, she is not in a great emotional place, though, and neither is Astrid, an environmentally conscious boarding-school kid dismissive of her mom’s paranormal abilities. Mainly because, for all the specters and spooks Lydia can see, the one she can't is the phantom of Astrid’s dead dad. 

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Another family tragedy reunites them and Lydia’s eccentric stepmother Delia (Catherine O'Hara) in their old small-town Connecticut haunt of Winter River. That detailed model of the quaint village is still in the Deetz family home's attic, where Beetlejuice used to hang out until you said his name thrice. He, of course, is summoned yet again: A desperate Lydia enlists his help when Astrid winds up in the Afterlife, potentially for good.

Beetlejuice has his own share of problems. He’s now got a desk job in the Afterlife but is also being hunted by his ex-wife Delores (Monica Bellucci), the undead leader of a death cult who’s Frankensteined her dismembered body back together for a mission of revenge. Compared with his staple-laden former love, Keaton’s stripe-suited weirdo feels less dangerous this time around but is nonetheless still a bizarrely joyful wonder of physical gags and verbal zingers. (As good as Keaton was being the best Batman, Beetlejuice will forever be his greatest hit.)

Justin Theroux enters the “Beetlejuice” world as Lydia’s dim-witted manager/beau Rory, and Willem Dafoe is having a blast as Wolf Jackson, a former action star who’s now an over-the-top Afterlife cop. But everybody in this movie gets a subplot, even side characters like Beetlejuice’s shrunken-headed buddy Bob.

The movie is an overcomplicated effort compared with the first outing, which aced its relatively simple plot of a recently deceased couple trying to rid themselves of their home’s annoying new owners. (While original stars Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin don’t return, their characters are mentioned. Also missing is Jeffrey Jones, now a registered sex offender, though Burton rather creatively works his role, Lydia’s father Charles, into the new film.)

Burton has nicely built out the checkerboarded, sandworm-infested madness of the Afterlife, and even installed a groovilicious soul train. There's also a nifty little black-and-white Italian horror-infused section where Burton channels his inner Mario Bava.

Ryder and Ortega are most key to “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” staying on the tracks: Astrid needs to find common ground with her mom, and Delia reminds Lydia that she needs to rediscover “the obnoxious little goth girl” she used to be. And yet the long-awaited sequel can’t pull off the trick that “Top Gun: Maverick” did so well, finding a way to marry the fresh and familiar after such a long time.

While the Afterlife remains a seriously cool place to visit, the least Burton and Co. could have done is dug the "ghost with the most" out of his grave for a better tale than this. But if like in 1988 this "Beetlejuice" spurs a few of Ortega's young "Wednesday" fans to try more horror, maybe it's a win.