Some months ago, I drove through a small town on my way to delivering some packages. One empty store still had a sign across the front advertising movie rentals, which got me to thinking how I sort of miss renting movies.
As a kid, we had a scattering of small, locally owned spots that rented out VHS tapes for a few bucks. One shared a building with a liquor store my dad affectionately referred to as the “weird beer party store.” Another was in a strip mall across the road from Paw Paw’s Lustron home (still there and in full porcelain-enamel steel glory).
That second rental spot was the last holdout after a regional chain opened its doors. Being the mid-90s, cinemas were packed with big-budget dramas, sci-fi special effects extravaganzas, and the last of Disney’s feature-length animated sagas to be considered part of its “renaissance.” Those all would eventually trickle to the video rental stores, sometimes not for many months.
Going to the video rental store was an experience — and not always a pleasant one. My mom finally broke the silence that other patrons couldn’t bear to pierce, telling a clerk the bad smell toward the back had the trademark reek of urine.
But that was the exception. Walking in and seeing whatever movie the staff had popped into the VCR got you in the mood for movies right away. The “new arrivals” display of films you meant to see in theaters but didn’t only further whetted your appetite.
You could browse for a good hour or so, sometimes narrowing your search by genre or by sticking to new to new-ish releases. There were some old favorites we rented again and again (the “Star Trek” movies, “Blade Runner,” “Groundhog Day,” David Lynch’s “Dune, “Repo Man,” “Tank Girl”) and others my parents rented despite great protestations from us kids. Whenever Mom wanted something “heartwarming,” the three of us would groan.
And being the youngest, there were a few I was not allowed to watch (I think I was in the fourth grade when my parents rented “Schindler’s List” for my older sister, who was learning about the Shoah in school).
Once you made your selection, you went through the rigamarole of paying for the movie, verifying your membership, the clerk telling you your due date, et cetera. Oh, and if they forgot to de-activate the anti-theft device, the scream of the alarm gate at the exit.
One thing I clearly remember was the microwave popcorn buckets shaped like movie theater tubs. My parents always made their own with the air popper so I never tried one until years later.
There are so many other little things that pop into my head as I think about getting ready for Movie Night — the “adults only” section behind a curtain in the back, the disappointment of finding your preferred flick was all checked out, the delight of taking a chance on a movie you’d never heard of to discover it was great … I could go on and on.
Then came Netflix, and to a lesser extent the self-serve kiosks like Redbox. At first we were delighted to have access to so many films and shows we couldn’t otherwise rent or borrow from the library. My parents ravenously consume British mystery series, especially anything Agatha Christie-related, and they also watched the entirety of “Gilmore Girls” and “McLeod’s Daughters,” one mailed DVD at a time.
That was the last call for video rental stores. Try as they might, they couldn’t compete with a flurry of DVD mailers and, later, streaming content that starts as soon as you hit play. Gone was the hassle of trekking to the rental store, going with your third choice because the first and second were checked out, then taking it home to discover the tape was damaged or the disc scratched (even mail-DVD Netflix wasn’t immune from this problem).
But gone, too, was the feeling that Movie Night was special. After all, with a galaxy of content strewn across myriad platforms, every night can be Movie Night.
Sometimes I fantasize about opening a rental store with the tagline, “You won’t find this on Netflix.” Maybe I’m not the only one who misses not having to flip through page after page of shows you don’t want or already saw to finally find something to watch.
Of course, there’s another more simple solution: Read a book, or check out a movie at the library.
Hats off to Traverse Area District Library for offering an excellent selection of both — and if they don’t have it, they can get it on loan from another library.