A great article here investigates “what might have been” for any continuation of the Beetlejuice franchise as my feeling is, this movie is not the easiest to write for.
So Beetlejuice sits in “development hell” like he’s taken a number from the the ole’ red ticket-machine. Gone but not forgotten– it’s been 30 years without devious fun, unless you count the kids’ cartoon show. Between zany, loose-form animation and a live-action riff of picking-up hookers it’s only a matter of time before he gets paroled at the front window.
C’mon, be “a notch above”. . . . . as it’s only the limits of imagination that keeps Beetlejuice from doing anything he wants, and cooking-up a really good movie.
For every marginal alcoholic and version of small-time “class” with his feet dunked in a kiddie pool, wearing Bermuda shorts and mirror-shades in an overgrown, weedy yard with pink flamingos– we show you the amusing underbelly “that never dies”. So bring him back into circulation and the free-for all over t-shirt sales as we’re going to make him represent “something bigger about ourselves, something true to America”.
So– are we going to be “The ‘Citizen Kane’ of averted raunch-fest comedy”? I certainly hope so. Entrusted with my “Final Draft” screenwriting software, I plan to bring you something truly remarkable and surprising– if official forces don’t “beat me to the punch”.
So is it a go, or isn’t it? Winona Ryder blushes every time she’s pressed to say something about it, and how the internet takes the news and runs with it– there could be “nothing” or there’s everything gearing-up into production. . . . . the truth is, NO ONE KNOWS!
We want to bring to St. Louis, where I live. They say “write what you know” as this city mixes up the urbane, the gentrified– with the punky alternative unto the new urban frontier like liberal arts and picturesque neighborhoods as beautiful as they are run-down.
Not forgetting the bedraggled survivors who keep “hanging on”, the wilder impulses of pure panic and quick-fix solutions soaked in alcohol and engine-grease. It’s a total zoo not far from Jerry Springer land and bargain-basement mania as some have called us “a dead town” that everybody feels “stuck-in”.
But you notice things. . . . . interesting things. I can think of nowhere else, as I appoint thee, the great “gateway to the west” and home of a thousand inspirations.
Hell awaits, “no complaints”. Don’t be true to what you ain’t. Rahh, rahh St. Louis!