Is life in the Ozarks really that bleak?

Yes, it's that bad. Just like in New York City, everyone is in the mafia, everyone in California is a famous actor, everyone in the South West are cowboys, everyone from Mars comes to attack. You can't even go to Georgia anymore without getting attacked by zombies, every sense that Walking Dead show came on.

That was the sarcastic answer, the real answer is no. Fictional movies and or books often create extreme examples to create an interesting narrative. I am certain that the Ozarks have all of these things, but I dare say that they are not the

No, I go down to the ozarks a lot, and it's pretty nice for the most part.

In the late Seventies, I got hold of a book that had been on the New York Times Best Seller list for almost a year. It had only recently arrived in England and I quickly grabbed it up. The book was entitled 'Blue Highways.' And I was mesmerised!

Written by William Least Heat Moon, the book chronicles a period in his life when he, as a local school English teacher, caught his wife in the midst of an affair. The event was the catalyst that set Moon on a monumental journey of 13,000 miles across america. The fact Moon refused to travel on any freeways or interstate, rather choosing to use the old roads, denoted on petrol station maps in 'Blue,' hence the title 'Blue Highways.'

Moon's journey was a cathartic, self-affirming, journey of self-discovery that allowed him to first escape the rage of his wife's infidelity, and it provided Moon with the healing act of logging a diary of his journeys, and the people he met.

I allude to this book, particularly, because through Moon's journey, he provided a glimpse of the backwater roads of america, and the often extremely fragile, and sometimes quirky lives of those who etch out their own survival.

The book became my own catalyst for adventure; I too decided to take such a journey. I flew to Florida and bought an old Volkswagon Bus (during the days they cost practically nothing). The bus, (I nicknamed 'Pickles'), had previously belonged to the Vlasic Pickle Company, and was a colour mix of urine green and yellow. An almost appalling combination of colours. I had no knowledge of Vlasic's previous marketing efforts and found myself surprised often, hearing people call out 'Sweet Pickles' when I'd stop at a restaurant or petrol station.

I wanted to learn about america; not the part every Brit sees, such as the Disney sites, and Vegas, etc. I wanted to visit those back roads and meet with people. Each visit allowed me to write small stories about my encounters and forward them back to a newspaper in the UK for publishing. That paid my way on my fifteen week journey.

To say it was an eye opener would be an understatement. The scenes depicted in this film of the Ozarks, from what I experienced are accurate. In fact, I can say with utter truthfulness, that virtually every single state in america that I visited had its own corner (or corners) of degradation, abject poverty, and essentially lost souls.

The degree of poverty increased exponentially the deeper into the southern parts of the states I visited. But it was clear to see that northern states were either sitting on the edge of the parapet, or were already rapidly hurdling downwards in that irreversible trajectory.

In areas where racism was still most prevalent, the poverty increased exponentially. But I must also say, in those areas, it was where I was often most graciously received.

I also found that in what I had always seen advertised internationally as the 'Crème de la crème' of america, it was there that I saw the greatest disparity.
Places such as Orlando, Las vegas, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Dallas, most certainly had magnificent, almost fairytale images. But once you leave the central area you would find the greatest degree of suffering. This is not unlike the slums of Manila, Johannesburg, São Paulo, and Mumbai, where the vestiges of luxury are lived out among the human detritus of society.

Missouri, Georgia, Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas come first to mind. Alabama, Florida, and the Carolinas not too far behind; those are the Southern areas which remain indelibly etched in my soul for their degree of poverty and suffering.

But I found the same, in fact, in some instances far worse, signs of deprivation and suffering, when I entered parts of New Mexico, Texas, Michigan, and California. It remains with me that the most minimal areas of suffering I saw were in Montana, Oregon, and Washington. However, it did exist to some extent.

I knew there were problems in the Native American reservations, where the US corralled the natives into their own open prison of sorts. And I did get to see some of this. But unfortunately, I was never able to emerge myself deeply enough to get a cohesive view. ... other than a wonderful experience I had visiting a local police station responsible for the Cherokee Indian community in the North Carolina mountains.

Even that many years ago, the problem with drugs, including Methamphetamine, had already raised its ugly head. At the time, Cocaine and marijuana seemed to be the prevailing issue I could see by reading the arrest book at the local constabulary. But indeed, it was a grim foretelling of what was to come.

I'm sad to say, what was so perfectly portrayed in this film was no caricaturisation, but indeed the real thing. You can set aside the background music of Duelling Banjos, and replace it with an elegiac dirge of tragedy and despair.

I'm not sure whether the façade we're shown abroad about the wonderful life in the Land of the 'free,' and the 'Chicken in Every Pot, for its citizens is actually an honest portrayal of reality any longer. (if ever). And from what the news media portrays about america's Congress and Senate, and Presidency, the possibility for any positive paradigm change is not soon forthcoming.

Perhaps we need more films such as these, rather than fantasy films of killing and immortality to create a reality check.

It's hard to say.

Fr B+

There are bad places everywhere. No the majority of the Ozarks is not like this at all.

My home is in the Ozarks and I love those mountains. I've never seen meth nor have I never knowingly met anyone who makes or sells it. Lots of banjo music to be found around Mountain View, especially during the bluegrass festival in April. There's no more white trash to be found in the Ozarks than you would find in any other region of the country. I've seen urban areas and they are far worse. Nothing wrong with fried squirrel although I prefer rabbit. Never tried possum or coon. The amount of meat on a squirrel is kind of meager and tough.

Paraphrasing Chris Rock, you get outside of the major urban/suburban centers and it's a lot of small towns full of poor people in rural, isolated communities. I've done a lot of rural riding on motorcycle and you'd be surprised at how a lot of people live.

I'm from South Carolina and a lot of people live like this. Note, the families are on a different level of poverty (an absentee father and invalid mother), but this isn't a caricature.

You get off the highways and travel the backroads and you see a lot of homesteads just like this. I've traveled through the Ozarks and Southern Missouri and it looks a lot like this. There are other motorcyclists who say they'd paranoid about breaking down in these parts as well.

Amy: I swear to God...I swear to God! That is NOT how you treat your human!

There's a great documentary about poverty in the south called Children of the Mountains.You can find it on YouTube. Its extremely eye opening.

Portraying "the flyover states" as wretched backwoods holes full of depraved incestuous meth addicts with shotguns is something Liberal film makers and authors like to do to reinforce stereotypes they have of Conservatives. Movies like this are the Democrat's versions of Nazi movies like Jud Süß (1940).