No movie with St. Louis involved will ever be complete, unless we see Beetlejuice sleazing around the ole’ waterfront. The Arch looms 600 ft up in the air, and it’s otherwise lots of public safety and civil service “make-work” as that area becomes pretty desolate except for the wild laughter of drunks leaving some of the night-life restaurants. But to make a story, short– the land is tangled with river-growth as you encounter trees and viaducts and so much concrete as it’s hard, like fighting upstream– to have a taste of the downtown night-life where the complaint about this town is that “to break-in”, you’d have to know the same group of suburban sluggards for 30 or 40 years– where introductions are hard, and either “you know about the worn pathways”, or don’t.
A picturesque image, “is it not”? But the one thing you’ll admire about this town is the atmosphere of run-down industrial-decay that still makes an effort to hold sweeping public events– like the riverboats, where you might see a “BigFoot” monster truck chained on the pier and families are walking-around, pushing strollers and carrying sodas– if not stopping-in for limitless merchandising as we’re surely an Anheiser-Busch trinket & souvenier mega-clearence hub as the impression is so much land and the cool breeze off of the river like we’re pioneers “over fly-over country”.
There’s some cafes and diners on the dead-end of town that attracts a lot of misfits, walking in through the red, blinking street-lights with a story of woe, or life’s good little chances over hashbrowns and coffee like the graveyard shift of all local excuses, assembled at this greasy spoon where you can hear a tale, or three. About six inches from the gutter, as Beetlejuice slams down change in the palm of his hand, wrapped in bandages as the grime seems inviting, the night long. . . . . . and human riff-raff king of all ocassions.
You’d have to be a local– somewhat down-and-out in the same cycle of sluice-gates and watery trash, for years on end– as some die, and others move-in like the morbid march of alcoholism and divorce. Life is full of hand-me-downs and grime, so glorious and thick with soot and ignorance.
You’d have to be there– but oddly, I like it. Let’s bring the movie here, and the city will roll-out the red carpet to keep “the good word” out. Spoken like a proud St. Louisan as I hope you’ll like this place too.
More than “a know-nothing”, WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.