Review: Danny Elfman & Friends Rekindle ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ in Concert at the Hollywood Bowl

There are traditions, and then there are Hollywood Bowl traditions — those special rituals that return each year without fail, drawing audiences who arrive as much for community as for spectacle. Few have achieved the cult-like devotion of Disney and Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas in concert, led by Danny Elfman, which celebrated its tenth anniversary and lucky 13th overall performance this Halloween weekend. On the evening of Sunday, October 26th, the Bowl once again transformed into a cathedral of shadows and song, not to mention a grand symphony of nostalgia, mischief, and macabre joy.

Before the orchestra made a sound, the grounds hummed with festival energy. Hordes of fans arrived cloaked as skeletons, witches, the Mayor of Halloween Town, Jacks, Sallys, Locks, Shocks, and even a few Sandy Claws. A costume contest drew cheers, while candy stations, a photo booth, and a spinning prize wheel (loaded with vinyl records of Hocus Pocus and The Nightmare Before Christmas, to name a few) turned the plaza into a trick-or-treat prelude.

A Tradition Reawakened

As the house lights dimmed, conductor John Mauceri — founding director of the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra and a youthful-spirited 80 years old — took the podium to thunderous applause. Mauceri reminded the crowd that Nightmare began not as a film, but as a poem Tim Burton wrote in 1982 while animating for Disney. The statement cast the night in poetic symmetry: a dream envisioned by one lionized artist (Burton), reborn each Halloween by another (Elfman and company).

The orchestra began with “The Skeleton Dance,” a vintage 1929 Disney short whose syncopated bones rattled across the screen with slinky humor and perfect timing. This was a salute to not just animation’s roots but animation that is reminiscent of Halloween’s most disarming qualities.

Then came the overture. Richard Kraft’s projections, which became more awe-inspiring over the arched facade as the night wore on, wrapped the Bowl’s proscenium in sketches from Burton’s Jack Skellington-centered early concept art. The overture’s eerie brass and choral whispers drew a collective shriek of excitement from the crowd — an invitation into a world where Christmas and Halloween forever entwine.

For the uninitiated, Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas, released in 1993, follows protagonist Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, who grows weary of his endless routine of scares and seeks something new. When he stumbles upon the glittering magic of Christmas Town, Jack becomes obsessed with bringing its joy and wonder home, only to unintentionally plunge both worlds into chaos. Directed by Henry Selick from a story and characters by Tim Burton, and featuring Danny Elfman’s unforgettable music and lyrics, the stop-motion classic fuses gothic whimsy with poignant themes of identity, belonging, and the precarious beauty of reinvention.

Enter Halloween Town

From there, the familiar chant began: “This is Halloween, this is Halloween…” Ghostly projections danced along the amphitheater’s shell while the featured ensemble — Randy Crenshaw, Angie Jaree, Greg Proops, Fletcher Sheridan, and Baraka May — led the rousing opener. It was a reminder that this wasn’t just nostalgia; it was live musical theater in its precision and exuberance.

Moments later, a hush fell as Danny Elfman strode onstage, dressed in his now-iconic black-and-white pinstriped “zoot” suit with a blood-red shirt glinting beneath. The audience roared, phones rose skyward, and Elfman — ever the showman — flashed a wicked grin before easing into “Jack’s Lament.” His expressive baritone carried the mix of melancholy and wonder that defines Jack Skellington: the Pumpkin King who longs for something beyond fright. Elfman’s phrasing, full of sly pauses and sudden crescendos, reminded everyone that he is Jack — body, soul, and skeleton.

“What’s This?” erupted next in a flurry of candy-cane projections, swirling gift boxes, and jubilant orchestral bursts. Elfman darted across the stage, arms wide, his voice crackling with delight as the proscenium shimmered like a living snow globe. For a moment, the entire Bowl seemed to inhabit Jack’s dazed discovery of Christmas Town.

“Town Meeting Song” showcased Elfman alongside the ensemble, their comic timing immaculate. Red and green lights strobed as he mused, “And they call him Sandy Claws—heh heh heh!” — eliciting laughter and applause. In “Jack’s Obsession,” mathematical equations flickered across the arches, visualizing the character’s manic curiosity; strings trembled, and Elfman’s face, which was caught in close-up on the big screen, registered both genius and unraveling.

Tricks, Treats, and The Townsfolk

“Kidnap the Sandy Claws” arrived as gleeful chaos. John Stamos (Lock), Riki Lindhome (Shock), and Elfman (Barrel) bounded onstage, the trio decked out in playful crimson and monochrome. Stamos, in a ruby red suit, leaned into his lines with comic menace; Lindhome, in a swirling black-and-white dress, matched him with impish delight. Chains and spiderweb projections snaked along the stage’s rim, turning the Bowl into an oversized haunted toybox.

After intermission, Mauceri introduced violinist Sandy Cameron, who opened Act II with a dazzling solo. Her bow danced across the strings in a whir of motion, building from supernatural tremolos to soaring runs. Bowled over by Cameron’s flair, the audience responded with a standing ovation, which, needless to say, could not be resisted given that Cameron’s classical rigor and rock-star bravado satisfyingly bridged the show’s gothic and symphonic halves.

When the film resumed, “Making Christmas” reignited the endearingly haunting chorus, with glowing ornament projections and the ensemble in full voice. It segued seamlessly into one of the night’s high points: “Oogie Boogie’s Song.”

Enter the Boogie Man

Keith David, inhabiting Oogie Boogie live, delivered the role with velvet menace. Dressed sharp and grinning broad, his rich bass filled the amphitheater — every “whoa whoa” resonating through the hillside. Psychedelic projections pulsed lime-green and violet, capturing the casino-from-hell aesthetic of Burton’s original sequence. David’s charisma and vocal texture made the scene electric as the crowd duly answered with deafening approval.

Elfman returned to introduce Janelle Monáe as Sally. Clad head-to-toe in character — stitched blue skin, red hair, and wistful eyes — Monáe’s “Sally’s Song” was tender and intimate, her soft vibrato wrapping the Bowl in melancholy. Her phrasing revealed Sally’s mixture of fear and devotion, and her chemistry with Elfman during the later duet underscored the emotional heart beneath all the pumpkins and ghosts.

As Jack’s ill-fated Christmas unfolded onscreen, “Christmas Eve Montage” unfurled clouds and reindeer across the proscenium; searchlights cut across the stage like anti-aircraft beams. During “Poor Jack,” Elfman’s voice dipped into a resonant bass register, full of rue and revelation. His “What have I done?” drew an impressively audible recognition — 32 years after the film’s release, still piercing.

Finale and Homage

The Finale/Reprise shimmered with falling-snow projections and communal warmth. Elfman and Monáe joined forces one last time as the ensemble filled the stage, their harmonies buoyed by Mauceri’s sweeping baton. When the final chord faded, the audience knew they had already gotten their money’s worth and more.

Then came a moment of gratitude. Elfman paid tribute to Ken Page, the film’s original Oogie Boogie, before calling attention to his own “zoot suit.” With roguish glee, he launched into a surprise second rendition of “Oogie Boogie’s Song,” this time sung his own way — a slightly jazzy and devilishly delightful romp. Mauceri joined in the fun, hamming up the dialogue line “Where?” to audience delight. It was both homage and mischief, a perfect encapsulation of Elfman’s spirit.

An Oingo Boingo Halloween

But the night still wasn’t over. The lights shifted from pumpkin orange to neon purple, and Elfman introduced his band, including original guitarist Steve Bartek, stepping forward to pumping fists. The Bowl morphed from concert hall to rock venue as the unmistakable rhythm of “Dead Man’s Party” resounded. Skeleton graphics and Día de los Muertos motifs danced across the screens while fans stood and swayed.

Without pause, the band, to finally cap the memorable outing, ripped into “No One Lives Forever,” its punchy bass and drumline recalling Elfman’s Oingo Boingo days. Bartek’s guitar solos blazed; Elfman stalked the stage like a grinning ghoul unleashed.

As the last note echoed, Elfman raised his arms and shouted, “Happy Halloween!” He reflected briefly — how in his “wildest imagination,” he never dreamed of doing this show a whopping 13 times at the Hollywood Bowl. The audience exclaimed in agreement, pleased by the breezy and rollicking two and a half hours they experienced.

A Celebration of Legacy

What makes Disney and Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas in concert endure isn’t just nostalgia or the perennial allure of Halloween — it’s the seamless fusion of disciplines: animation, film, orchestration, theater, and pure fan devotion. Under Mauceri’s precision and Elfman’s boundless energy, the 2025 edition proved that this hybrid of movie and concert remains an ever-evolving art form. The epically timed projections, conceived by Richard Kraft and produced by Kraft-Engel Productions in partnership with AMP Worldwide, made the Bowl itself an extension of the film.

Elfman’s cast of friends — exemplified by Monáe’s soulful restraint, David’s booming bravado, Stamos and Lindhome’s mischievousness, and Cameron’s virtuosic prowess — transformed the Halloween-centric evening into a living gallery of Burton’s imagination. This was undoubtedly a community event and, for the ultra-devoted, an annual reminder that The Nightmare Before Christmas in concert is more than just a replay of a beloved film; it is a reaffirmation of the power of live art which soars to its greatest heights when shared among 17,500 people.

Cover image caption: The left image depicts Danny Elfman singing alongside the right image which shows Danny Elfman and company performing at Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, CA. Photos courtesy of Getty Images and the Hollywood Bowl.

For more information about Disney and Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas concert at the Hollywood Bowl, visit hollywoodbowl.com.