You don’t go to Beetle House on Hollywood Blvd. for the food. Yes, they serve entrées along with the entertainment, but you go mainly because you love Tim Burton’s films and want to immerse yourself in them; you go for the experience. And, if it’s October, then, like Charlie and I, you head to Beetle House because you want to get into the spirit of Halloween. Guests find themselves in a make-believe world as soon as they step into the foyer: from the costumed hostess, to the painstaking décor, to the roaming cast of grotesque characters, everything here primes the willing Burton fan to enjoy an hour and 45 minutes of campy fun (at least, that’s the time limit for each guest as stated on the restaurant’s reservation page; however, no one actually shooed us out when Charlie and I overstayed our welcome). In fact, as announced on its website, “Everyday [sic] is Halloween” at Beetle House. Personally, though, I think it would be exhausting to dine here more than once a year; the entertainment on the dance floor and the actors dressed as various The Nightmare Before Christmas characters that intermittently interrupt your meal, are elements that can charm while novel but would probably get annoying if one dined here too often. Those actors, bless them, take their jobs very seriously and commit fully to their roles as they walk around the restaurant, stopping at each table to chat briefly with the guests, never once stepping out of character. When Sally stopped by our table, for instance, and I asked her to pose with me for a photo, she obliged but then accused me of trying to steal Jack away from her. I thought it was adorable, but would I want to be accused by the staff of stealing their boyfriends every time I dined out? Probably not. If, say, you’re a dad with little ones who demand to be taken to Beetle House every time the family goes out for dinner, then you might eventually find yourself sitting at your table, with a beleaguered expression on your face and arms folded across your chest, staring straight ahead the whole evening, obviously wishing you were someplace else. I, however, am not a beleaguered dad, and I was an eager participant in all the Burton-esque make-belief. I can easily see how the Beetle House would draw in customers with young children, but this place isn’t just for kids; it’s also for adults who are willing to be a kid again for an hour or so. It felt good to experience a childlike thrill at the sight of those beloved Tim Burton characters (plus one Chucky, for some reason) and delight at the sleight-of-hand performed right at our table (I’ve kept a remnant of that magic trick, a folded up five of diamonds, as a souvenir). I would be glad to experience that thrill and delight again next Halloween.