Haunted Halloween Cornfield & Pumpkin Shoot

The video, above—is a promotion for St. Louis’ own “Silo-X” haunted house company.

There’s nothing like the ritual of the changing seasons, the fall carnival of the macabre—and a young man’s prurient interest in blood, guts, and zombies. A night of fantasy complete, if for a wide-eyed little filly holding your hand as the two of you bolt through a chamber of choreographed mayhem.

And they say if you want a goodnight kiss you take her to see a movie like Dracula, perhaps a world of Old World romance as mystical and deep as fertility and blood like a full, ripe pregnant belly beneath a haunted moon—the cycles of change rising in your heart of certainties like full-bodied communion with ancient nature, sun & soil and recusal from the underworld of organic subconscious.

(Or its just an excuse to be chased around by zombies)

Make that REDNECK zombies, a mirror image of this American life all in shrieking skulls and flannel shirts like something wispy-haired and awful from “Tales from the Crypt”. For shock value and garish, grody thrills you might even throw in the “big tent” ministrations of “Larry the Cableguy” telling you to have a safe ride home back to the city.

Death is ooky and cathartic with a cheery ending­. . . . . more so than the plain, old awful business of living. But suffice it to say, the supernatural—existence of anything, AFER THIS—is a positive take on life & death. Perhaps being alive is a journey to the abyss of revelation, a widening swath of awareness as the cornfield rustles with a tuneless empty wind, the void of night-chill still as a graveyard.

Then again is the flurry of unsophisticated entertainment, evident of man’s folly like a safe-space of guided disorder and paid-for chaos.

Beetlejuice knows all about it, our favorite out-state resident and small businessman who decides to get his own attraction going. It’s a redneck zombie hayride and paintball shoot as you plink away at ghoulish actors lurching after the wagon, and swiftly pelted by fast-moving projectiles and groaning with a pained stagger before collapsing.

Fiendishly, by trick of refurbished reincarnation “second chances” you might get down at the ole’ “Payday Loan” these lost souls are distinctly unhappy. Living death—and unpaid mortgages. It’s much the same as pumpkins grin by glow of candle-light.

Have a cold soda from an onboard cooler as Beetlejuice steers the power-mower and pulls the wagon behind him, narrating the tale with a slurred, snaggle-toothed laugh. Needless to say, he’s pulling these paying suckers straight down to hell, or your local life lending office & death exchange where he’ll lick the bills and pronounce himself an American success story.

His eyes shift hot, his mouth all-gibbity as he takes a swig from a hip flask. You’re not using this life for much, are you? He’ll take it and even throw in the chains for free down on the rag & bone junk heap of “all sales, final” and NO REFUNDS.

Couldn’t you read the fine print? No worse than the average storefront car title-loan company, he means to grind by on the defeated karma of others like the bottom-feeder of the netherworld he truly is. Don’t look “a gift corpse in the mouth”, but you’ll pay him back one way or another as a recycled spirit.

Maybe Beetlejuice should get a mouth full of broken teeth like a bloody jangle of candy-corn. One of these millennia he’s going to get his ass kicked behind a barn. Then where will he be? Probably selling meat from door-to-door. Don’t ask, “but you get the idea”.

So don’t go to that one haunted cornfield attraction even deeper in the dark midnight boonies. Stick with Silo-X instead as word-of-mouth decrees this place a legitimate enterprise for the big kid in both you and me.

Don’t accept rides or candy from strangers as “it’s a living”.

Or just “a death house”.

You want the mold on that corn-dog?

 

Haunted Halloween Cornfield & Pumpkin Shoot

Beetlejuice down at “Ballpark Village”

busch  lydia_exhausted

St. Louis is known as quite the ole’ baseball town. And needless to say, we’re always sorry when the home team looses to anyone as we play the funeral dirge.

But in another movie tie-in, “Back to the Future II” predicted that The Chicago Cubs would win The World Series 30 years into the future, as 2015 as a touch, different. No hover-boards or other sort of conceits to the 1980’s post-future, but hey– it’s like “no one’s supposed to notice, or care”.

But since baseball is such a big part of St. Louis life, no love letter to the city would be complete without bringing some action down to “Ballpark Village”. That whole area is a built-up spot of bars and restaurants, marking easy passage to the stadium through the local Metro-Link for an integrated downtown experience, about the flashiest place you’d find in the whole city.

As you fight your way up through the crowds, you’d have an image of Beetlejuice hurrying along, pursued by the military and other Secret Service types in coats and sunglasses as he tries to loose them in the throng.

And what a sight–

Street musicians busk for change, beating drums on the back of old paint-tubs as taxi-cabs pull up to the curb and Cardinals fans flock toward the gates.

By contrivance I won’t reveal, Beetlejuice actually makes his way out onto the field, blown up in the crisp honeycomb lights of the score-board as officials make an attempt to tackle him.

Your view, up in the seats– the Arch looming high over the stadium with the St. Louis river-front skyline filling the view, making an inescapable cameo in movie-going history as it can all be edited-in with computers, or a special little “joke diversion” arranged somewhere on game night with everyone up in the stands. . . . . as you can do practically anything with technology, these days.

A plot point is that a portal or “gateway” to the paradox of unbeing localizes around our very own Gateway Arch as spirits fly-down and whirl-about in the vise of a threatening thunderstorm, something a bit like the menace in “Ghostbusters”.

Lydia and the gang must run-down to the foot of the Arch grounds to stop Cousin Hugo, the rotund sort of “Insane Clown Posse” hooligan from accidentally “canceling-out the universe” by collecting so much of the code behind “the ideas, that hold ideas”, like streams of data “behind everything” you’d see in “THE MATRIX”. The implication is that commercial mascots come alive as a weird side-effect and how fractions of a cent add up exponentially to break the banking system as the military is trying to reverse an experiment gone terribly wrong on a local high-tech installation as Beetlejuice finds himself “right in the middle of it”

Lydia & friends must break him loose, as part of her “already belongs to the nether-side” as she gains incredible powers, and Beetlejuice becomes “more human” and corporeal. The imbalance must be corrected before it’s too late in a final, fiery finale involving Nintendo light-gun fights and massive, shape-shifting supernatural transformations.

Be there!

Beetlejuice down at “Ballpark Village”

Beetlejuice meets The Undertaker

A spooky, effective entrance– rather “death-obsessed” and perhaps a side avenue in our growing plot. Does “The Undertaker” make a cameo appearance in “Beetlejuice 2”? Well, stock-footage is the only limit as this promo for “Summer Slam ’92” speaks for itself down at the ole’ WWF network. Or correct me– “WWE”.

It is a realm of “tall tales” or what in the business is known as “kayfabe”, a sort of Lone Ranger/Tonto word for “never breaking character” or admitting that the show is just “an act”. Call these wrestlers “madder than method” but they really become these characters as you never surrender the story– and how fans get caught-up in the rivalries.

And we never break character here, up on WordPress– selling you the greatest movie on earth and whooping it up on this corner of the internet– until Warner Bros. comes by and slaps me with an injunction for dancing all over a copyrighted franchise.

So what would that look like in “the legal ring”? Well, Beetlejuice would get dropped like a sack of maggots, breaking the fold-out chair and thoroughly getting his ass trounced by a bigger, fiercer opponent as the audience yawned.

Well, for all of its creativity– this movie fluctuates between vulgar social commentary and then a clever play on the 21st century. Just see that 7-Eleven full of black chrome motorcycles with orange flame decals and an “Eminem-looking figure” downing Mountain Dew in a giant Big Gulp cup, wondering what “the hell you’re talking about”.

And then– the larger circle of an international audience as all will be made to understand– Beetlejuice crunching through the fold-out table.

(– Roll that beautiful clip again)

Slapstick n’ clever plays on culture as this film will truly be a lone stand-out in the movie financing world of creative risk. . . . . .

(CRASH)

Never stop believin’, kids.

Beetlejuice meets The Undertaker