In the wake of Harry Belafonte’s death on April 25th, there’s no doubt that an embarrassing number of people likely had to be reminded of who he was via the nudge, “Remember that scene from Beetlejuice?” And yes, a great many probably only know Belafonte’s work as a result of that iconic scene of Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) levitating to the tune of “Jump in the Line” (falsely known to some as “Shake Shake Shake Señora”) at the end of Beetlejuice. So yes, in one respect, Tim Burton and Ryder did Belafonte “a solid” by reinvigorating his music for a new generation (and lily-white race). Yet, in another, they subjected Belafonte to what could have later been referred to as the Madonna/Vogue phenomenon.
The latter occurred two years after the release of Beetlejuice (1988). And yes, it involved a white girl dancing as a means to subsequently “get the message out” about a so-called subculture—this word being a dig in many respects to those who “can’t” fit in with the “dominant” (read: oppressor) culture. But it was Belafonte’s songs in Beetlejuice that predated what Madonna would end up doing in a far more noticeable manner. The debate about whether or not Madonna’s spotlighting of voguing was appropriation or appreciation rages on to this day, with one camp (including her very own backup dancers from Blond Ambition Tour) insisting that what she did was a boon for the queer community and another insisting that it’s another prime example of white folks pillaging and plundering whatever they want from the marginalized and claiming it as their own. And, although Madonna never made any declaration about, like, “inventing” vogue, most listeners weren’t liable to do much digging into the background of where it came from; content instead to mimic Madonna’s dance moves from the video…such moves being grafted from the likes of her backup dancers Luis Camacho and Jose Gutierez.
Similarly, upon viewing Lydia beg her ghost besties, Adam (Alec Baldwin) and Barbara (Geena Davis) Maitland, “Can I?” after she receives the promised good grade on her math test that they wanted, all one thinks of is Lydia then levitating to “Jump in the Line” as her reward. They don’t much care to investigate further into who’s actually singing or the fact that Belafonte was so much more than a man forever associated with a Tim Burton movie. He was an activist and freedom fighter going back to the outset of the civil rights movement. And he brought music and politics together as few artists of his time did (Bob Dylan has nothing on Belafonte). Alas, as Lydia lip syncs to the “Jump in the Line” lyrics in addition to dance-levitating, an added layer of “grafting” occurs. Surprisingly, the song originally intended for this scene was Percy Sledge’s “When A Man Loves A Woman.” Not exactly “the vibe” one can imagine going with this particular moment. And it wasn’t just Belafonte’s “Jump in the Line” that was used either—viewers will also recall “Day-O” being “played” during Delia’s (Catherine O’Hara) dinner party for her agent, Bernard (Dick Cavett), and the art world “glitterati” he’s brought along to humor her attempt at leaving New York. Because, yes, people living in New York can’t seem to fathom that art is actually made (to better effect) outside their precious city.
In terms of “hauntings,” possessing people to lip sync and dance along to Belafonte is on a Scooby-Doo level of “scaring.” Delia and her guests tend to agree as they turn out to be absolutely delighted by the possession. For, rather than terrifying them (the Maitlands’ intended outcome to avoid resorting to summoning Betelgeuse [Michael Keaton]), they see it as an opportunity to commodify the presence of these “supernatural beings.” A sign of the uber-neoliberal times under Reagan, one supposes. And, in some regards, viewers can even see the seed of Nope coming from this movie in terms of OJ (Daniel Kaluuya) and Em (Keke Palmer) being more concerned with getting the “Oprah shot” of the UFO on their ranch than running away from it in horror. Maybe Delia and her cabal actually would have if the song selected had been the Ink Spots’ “If I Didn’t Care,” as originally suggested in the script by writer Warren Skaaren (who had also suggested “R&B music” for the sonic leitmotif as opposed to Belafonte).
As for the origins of “Day-O” being a call-and-response song stemming from the torment of Jamaican workers loading bananas onto ships (at one point, Jamaica’s leading export), well, that adds something of an icky coating to the scene as well (much in the way it undoubtedly did when Justin Trudeau wore blackface while singing it in high school). For Delia and her friends are all rich capitalists who’ve never worked a job as grueling as the ones that truly working-class people are forced to. And yet, one could argue that was part of the point—with the Deetzes representing gentrification in every way. Not just any gentrification, though…gentrifying their own “kind” right out of town. The scariest thing of all to middle-class white people: being ousted by richer white people.
Incidentally, when Belafonte was asked if he was surprised by the scenes in the film that employed his music, he quipped that he was too old for surprises. And yes, when you’re a Black man who came of age in pre-civil rights era America, it seems a silly question indeed. Perhaps what some viewers would be “surprised” by is the fact that a large motivation for using Belafonte’s songs resulted from their affordable licensing price points. And it was O’Hara who allegedly advocated for calypso music, with co-star Jeffrey Jones further elaborating on the genre by throwing “Day-O” into the hat. And the rest is appropriation history. Complete with Betelgeuse wielding AAVE as part of his “natural” speech.
Yet just as Madonna “taking” “Vogue” can’t be called full-tilt appropriation (Madonna sporting cornrows in the “Human Nature” video, however, can), nor can the Beetlejuice-Belafonte marriage. And it is a marriage—there is no Beetlejuice without Belafonte (with the soundtrack being deemed “the key reason the movie works” on what marks its thirty-fifth anniversary this year). After all, Belafonte was not “used and abused” in any way re: the incorporation of his songs. Indeed, he happily gave his consent for the music to be played as a leitmotif throughout the film, perhaps never imagining it would become so iconic. As did the “Vogue” dancers effectively give their sanction to Madonna to make the dance and language her own by joining her in the video and on tour. Even so, and despite the “green light” given for these two particular white girls to dance to music that didn’t “belong” to them, one must still ask the question: is it worth it when a white girl makes something more “mainstream”? That is to say, co-opts it under the guise of simply “spreading the gospel.”
Belafonte might reply with a shrugging yes. Whatever gets the job done for “awareness,” above all. And, lest anyone forget, Belafonte was the one responsible for organizing “We Are the World.” A charity single that ultimately seemed to have a less uniting effect than the one on audiences seeing Lydia Deetz levitate to “Jump in the Line” or Delia Deetz lead her dinner party in an eccentric jig to “Day-O.”
