I have this weird fantasy. I’m in the Wasteland, the apocalyptic world of the MAD MAX movies. Or maybe I’m in the desert of THE BOOK OF ELI. Or even the abandoned back roads of THE STAND. Anyway, I’m driving a massive truck, and stopping every once in a while, in villages and encampments. I have a generator and some fuel, but what I really carry, my gift to a land of devastation and loss, is Story. I have a 4K projector, a big felt silver screen, and a ton of Blu-rays and 4K discs. I play a double feature - perhaps a romantic comedy coupled with an action-adventure film. Or a quiet Western and a joyous musical.
The next day, the villagers fill my tank and my belly, and I make my way across the blasted plains, bringing Story as I go. Maybe in the interim I inspired some kid to carry on that much longer, to push through one more day. Maybe some hard case finds his courage and his empathy and decides to battle for his people. Or maybe I get eaten and the cannibals use the Blu-rays as Frisbees, I don’t know.
It’s a silly fantasy. And to tell the truth, not much of an excuse - since the pandemic, I’ve bought more physical media than I ever did beforehand. I used to collect vinyl, because I thought the sound was richer, fuller, had more weight to it, than streaming from Spotify or Apple Music. Maybe I was fooling myself - I’m not exactly the best audiophile. But vinyl got more expensive, more cost prohibitive, so I stopped collecting. I never really stopped buying movies, though.
I’m not rich, but I get by. I pay my bills, take care of my family, and keep them insured and with a roof over their heads. If I’m a frivolous spender, it’s in buying movies. Over the past few months, though, it’s gone… well, crazy. I won’t lie - since June, I’ve probably bought well over 200 movies. Some were upgrades from previous films - I bought the STAR WARS Saga in 4K and replaced my Blu-rays (yeah, yeah, they aren’t the original theatrical cuts, but come on, that ship has gone into hyperspace), but a lot of them - most of them, in fact - were blind buys. Movies I’d never seen before. The recent Criterion/Arrow sale at Barnes and Noble didn’t help matters. I won’t embarrass myself by giving you numbers, but it was a lot.
To make matters worse, even before my buying spree, I had (still have, who am I kidding) a ton of movies I’ve never seen, just waiting to be watched. I should at least watch those before buying new ones, right? You would think. But there was this fierce itch that I could only scratch when I bought something new. And that would only last a short time.
My collection pales in comparison to others - I’ve been to friends’ houses where their physical media is stacked from floor to ceiling, taking over a complete area of the house. Whenever I see that I get extremely envious, too. But sometimes I just like… looking at them. Looking at my stacks of movies, movies I love, movies I haven’t watched yet, franchises, foreign films, Kurosawas and Spielbergs and Andersons - it comforts me in ways that are hard to explain.
Or maybe I can, a little. I see these stacks and I think of the future. That, at some point, I’m going to have a profound experience with something there, and I delay that experience as long as I can, just to have something to look forward to. I look at these movies and think, someday I’m going to have friends over, and I’m going to show them something extraordinary, something that changes them. Or I just imagine friends over, as we watch some silly but spectacular action film or martial arts extravaganza, and we’ll bond and laugh, and have a great time. And I realize that every purchase, especially lately, isn’t necessarily for my enjoyment but for the enjoyment of others. I don’t know - it’s been a lonely couple of years.
It’s hard to see a future right now. And the future that we do imagine looks bleak, scary, a Wasteland. But a future where people will sit down and watch a movie with you, over pizza and drinks, and just enjoy each other’s company comforts me like few things do these days. It feels like every movie I buy brings that future closer to me. Streaming doesn’t do that - everyone has streaming. But let me tell you, I have a lot of hard-to-find movies that I’d love to share with friends and they aren’t easily obtainable through Netflix or Disney Plus. You try getting a copy of SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES on a streaming platform, or see the late Alan Rickman in a beautiful ghostly romance like TRULY MADLY DEEPLY. Not easily done.
When people wax nostalgic for Blockbuster, they aren’t pining for the days of a corporation that forced many mom-and-pop video stores out of business. They’re pining for the shared experience, where instead of an algorithm that only shows you what you think you want to see, you are suddenly intrigued by a cover, or you’re with a friend who points out a title that you wouldn’t have ordinarily picked but your friend swears that it’s good, or even just walking the aisles, surrounded by possibilities. Something tactile, something with weight, something that isn’t predetermined by your previous choices but curated (and there is a difference). Something genuinely risky and new.
I never feel that way when I look through any of these streaming services (except with Criterion and sometimes Shudder - if there are any streaming services that feel the most like a video store, it’s those two) but I always felt that when walking through a video store. Sometimes the old ways were better - convenience doesn’t always mean quality. Most people, when they have the world at their fingertips, tend to stay within their comfort zones. I made more discoveries, took more risks, in the video store than I ever did with streaming. That’s a fact.
Maybe I’m overthinking it. Movies and television are an escape, and people should try to navigate this world in those ways that feel right and are best for them. But infinite choice has its own shortcomings. Sometimes a limitation of options forces you to try something you wouldn’t have tried before. Back in the day, when movies used to sell out in the theater, there were always other options. That’s not the case today - you’d be hard pressed to find anything selling out these days. Now, you have to make a choice, but most people these days don’t choose to be challenged. I can’t exactly blame them. When you make a financial commitment, when you choose to block off a few hours, you want something that soothes rather than agitates. I get it.
But I look at my movies, and I imagine a world where I can still choose, and I can decide whether I want to be challenged, or if I want to be swept away, or if I want to fall back into the past with a beloved film. You can do that with streaming, but it just doesn’t feel the same. So I suppose I’ll always have to make room for my stacks., just as much as I’ll make room for new experiences and ideas. So I think I’m going to keep buying movies I’ve never seen before, at least until they stop making them.
Besides, I’ve got a shit-ton of karate movies now. Some amazing ones, too. You won’t have to cross a Wasteland to see them, either. Just let me know if you’re coming; I’ll put on the popcorn.