The universe can only be stranger than we know, as both sides of living life and the netherworld are encompassed, like circles of existence. And how a little atmoic speck can really be all that we know, and just a part of a larger hierarchy– like the little toe of a large god.
Hell, “whom am I to say”? But we can find paraells between hunter and hunted, or maybe just “dead food on the table” as Beetlejuice outruns becoming a meal in the world of lethiathons.
Just imagine a civilization of sand-worms dressed-up, for a gnatty get-together and eating at tables. Why, a whole family in a freaky mirror image of our world– now in the schemata of giants and dinosaurs.
So monsters dine, in a restaurent full of “Pee Wee Herman”/”Tim Burton bric-a-brac in a CGI claymation sequence. See their twisting, sinuous necks and other hairy “unspeakables”, each with a personality and a vignette of snapping and chomping– like the weirder side of the old game for the NES, “Super Mario 2” as it doesn’t get any stranger than that, for family and children’s entertainment. All sorts of ideas of what’s going on in this restaurant, and Beetlejuice waking-up in a house that is now floating in a bowl of chodwer.
He paces back and forth by the window, nursing his head from a hang-over or more likely, the last time he tried to fool humanity as Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis won, literally– “by the skin of their teeth” as there Beetlejuice was in a bad Cuban pimp-suit, hopping-up-and-down as chattery teeth tried to bite him.
Time has passed– and call this a level of karma, or otherwise getting recycled through the huge bowel of life as he must now outwit the dining monsters– running around the table behind a napkin dispenser, or salt and pepper shaker.
CGI comes in handy, as a popped champagne cork between a brother and sister sandworm quareeling bounces around the eatery and a cu-cukoo clock runs backward at high speed. A monster short-order cook emerges, with his hands on his hips, angered.
Through the kitchen, a pot slopping over with tentacles and other rubber nibblet beasties in a kitchen fun-house where the imagination totally meets the eye as the animators are free to play, around.
Beetlejuice is chased by a flower in a vase– really a slavering venus fly-trap– and it looks like his number is up– before the opening credits roll. Start the movie running, as we meet Lydia working on her show “live, on location” for what’s otherwise local cable-access programming with her motley group of friends as I’m sure, “their worlds will meet” as a disaterous military experiment goes-on at the local air-base, nearby.
Don’t want to give-away “too much”, but we’re moving right along on this thing. Writing is not for the feint-hearted and here I am, keeping-up this blog as I derive lots of entertainment from it.
And certainly, we’ll be back tomorrow– so keep on the edge of your seat as I haven’t run-out of ideas, yet. Welcome to HELLLLL. . . . . .
Or more, like “you get what you pay, for”– so I’ll keep making it good. You’ve been a wonderful audience, and you have first-row seats at the press releases of creative-process. Ciao, babe.