I Lost It At the Video Store: A Filmmakers' Oral History of a Vanished Era

by Tom Roston

For a generation, video stores were to filmmakers what bookstores were to writers. They were the salons where many of todays best directors first learned their craft. The art of discovery that video stores encouraged through the careful curation of clerks was the fertile, if sometimes fetid, soil from which todays film world sprung. Video stores were also the financial engine without which the indie film movement wouldnt have existed.

Genres: Film, Nonfiction, History, Pop Culture, Media Tie In, Memoir

160 pages, Hardcover

First published September 22, 2015

Reviews

[Scott · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars

" . . . the tradition of video [store] clerks who became filmmakers - we [sic] grew up thinking that was the path you took. When I was in high school, I thought that any self-respecting wannabe filmmaker had to take that path." -- director / producer (and former video store clerk, natch) Joe Swanberg, page 109

A book that sort of promised to be a little more fun than it actually was, I Lost It at the Video Store (titled as such to recall the late movie critic Pauline Kael's book of essays I Lost It at the Movies) was a brief oral history on an era that director JC Chandler correctly recollects that "it all seems so quaint now" in regarding the once-ubiquitous family-owned or national chain of video stores dotting the national landscape. The majority of the interviewees are directors / writers / producers who came of age circa 1980 to 2005, recalling their adolescent daily / weekly trips to the video store for tape / DVD rentals OR their later time working there before achieving show biz success. There are a few interesting anecdotes but it often lapses into a kind of business-speak about the film industry that will likely be none to engrossing to a general audience, and occasionally the egos veer a wee bit out of control. (Exhibit# 1 - motormouth Quentin Tarantino claiming that movie theater patrons, upon recognizing him at a screening, spoke of him in hushed tones way back in the 80's when he was still a twenty-something nobody toiling away at an L.A.-area video store. Uh-huh, okay QT.) Still, there were some effectively sobering concluding moments when everyone involved realizes how much the style and delivery of 'home entertainment' has rapidly changed in a relatively short amount of time.

[Morgan · Rating 2 out of 5]

The premise of this book really intrigued me, as I too remember walking through the aisles of the mom and pop video stores gawking at covers and renting everything I could. I didn't really have an experience of not having movies readily available at all times, so maybe the sheer grandeur of video was a bit lost on me. Anyway, going into the book I was excited, especially to hear from filmmakers with their take on the video era. However, from the opening pages my excitement was quickly tempered. Written by a former Premiere magazine editor (or writer), the author goes to great lengths to bust out with the most flowery language possible when just talking about videos. His "introduction" to his thesis--and honestly that's what the book reads as, a glorified thesis paper--runs a full 20% of the book. The filmmaker interviews are put together in such a way where it's supposed to feel like a conversation, but it feels dominated by the opinions of Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith. There is really just a smattering of filmmakers included (it really only felt like six or so) with most being male. Some of the interviews are interesting but most are repetitive. And while the reading is certainly quick, I wish there was more meat in the history of video and rise of the video stores. It's glossed over briefly, but I would have loved there to be more depth--and certainly interviews with industry types other than the filmmakers. How about video store owners? The team from Troma? Artists designing some of the memorable box covers? The book is just okay; it's completely lacking substance.


Advanced review copy provided by NetGalley in exchange for a fair review.

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

ARC for review from NetGalley.

A book in interview snippets from some directors, producers and writers for whom the video store was one of his/her (well, only one or two hers, which was disappointing) primary influences. The usual suspects are here (Quentin Tarantino and Kevin Smith, who always manages to elevate (OK, maybe "elevate" is the wrong word) with his humor) as well as some unexpected voices (I loved hearing from Morgan Spurlock - since he's from small-town West Virginia I have a feeling his video store experience was much more akin to my own, versus some of the directors who had access to video stores which likely had a wider range of choices).

I also loved Nicole Holofcener's repeated comparisons to video stores and bookstores, "It's similar to a bookstore. When I go into a bookstore, I am so happy to be in there and to look at the spines of the books and to go around that corner and see what author will be there. And just to see what they've got. And there was the tactile nature of the whole experience." Then later, when talking about the demise of the video store and the independent bookstores, "your bar just gets lower and lower. I was just at a Barnes and Noble, and I was so happy it was still there. Barnes and Noble had been the enemy. And so was Blockbuster. I really miss cruising the aisles and choosing movies that way."

As do many of us who grew up during that era. "Even the more conventional video store would have an indie section and you could find that stuff and you could connect it to people in the underground world." (Greg Mottola). This was true of my little independents in my small town in Virginia and it's the way (really the only way) I learned about and came to love independent film.....and Holofcener is correct - it was through browsing the aisles, by spending time reading the boxes, by looking at the staff choices and ignoring the copies of the movies that had actually shown in my three-screen town.

The book also covers the business model, "there was so much money flooding the marketplace from the home video business, it meant that a lot of independent films got made that would not have gotten made otherwise....there was financing available." (Ira Deutchman) - recouping video profits was easy pre-Blockbuster, therefore it was an easy choice for a studio or even a video maker to green light a film at one to 1.5 million dollars, knowing that it would be made back on video even if there was little to no theatrical run (in fact Reservoir Dogs just barely made the bar to appear in theatres).

No more, though. Once Blockbuster came on the scene they were able to negotiate cheap prices for the videos which no longer allowed for the same profit, so studios lost incentive and the public lost the sometimes great independent video stores (I was unaware of the power of Kim's in the NYC film scene).

What's next? Who knows. This short volume will likely appeal to filmmakers and big film buffs - most of the information has appeared elsewhere, but the interview format makes this a quick, interesting read for those interested in the topic.

[Hank · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book will age well. In thirty to forty years, it will make for a great historical curio of a bygone era. As non-fiction, however, it's too thin and unfortunately structured as an unconvincing, faux conversation. That said, it's a breezy read. It's 160 pages that feel like 16. That's both its strength and its weakness.

[Zach Koenig · Rating 4 out of 5]

As an individual who grew up smack dab in the heart of the “video rental store” era of entertainment consumption, I am always fascinated with and nostalgic about the meteoric rise and equally dramatic fall of those businesses. In this book, a number of stories/interviews from famous filmmakers (Quentin Tarantino, Darren Aronofsky, David O. Russell, to name a few) are collected to show how the Video Store affected their lives in film.

First and foremost, I want to point out that “I Lost It At The Video Store” is a short, interview-centric work. It isn’t any sort of treatise on the video rental business whatsoever. That’s kind of what I expected when I was anticipating the book, but I quickly discovered that this wasn’t the case. Instead, this is a collection of stories from filmmakers…nothing more, nothing less.

Initially, I was a bit disappointed that this was such a short book based on personal recollections, but I quickly discovered that most of those remembrances were very interesting and spot-on in relation to my experiences with video rental stores. It was fun to hear that even these established, big-name luminaries in the film business had the same experiences, emotions, and reactions to the video rental industry that I did!

Another specific thing that I really liked about this book was how much of a difference there was between opinions. Obviously, these are very smart people who have put some brainpower into answering the questions and thinking about the issues at hand. While some (like Tarantino) desperately miss the video store format, others are perfectly fine with its demise and are excited about what the future has to bring. As in life, there is a dichotomy in most things, and I like how that is portrayed even in this small tome.

Overall, then, this is a solid title that covers a niche market that is only now beginning (if that) to get some coverage (whether nostalgic, research-based, or otherwise). Much like the generation that grew up on Nintendo only to see that market completely change (a topic that gets quite a bit of press), there is a similar generation reared on trips to the video store that now has to navigate a digital/streaming world. As such, “I Lost It” can serve two purposes quite nicely: It can wax nostalgic for “those who lived it”, while providing a unique glimpse into the past for those who have only known the current digital format of video consumption.

[Rayjan Koehler · Rating 5 out of 5]

I somehow found this book in the online catalogue for my current local library system, and I just had to read it.

I do not think this book is a good fit for most people, but it hit a home run with me. If I had an idea of the kind of format the book is in I probably would have skipped it.

There were some things that resonated with me, but not everything. I do want to get more into filmmaking, but with YouTube I don't think it will end up being a career with so many filmmakers on the platform, and some other things.

It is interesting to get a sense of mindset, and some history on movie stores and filmmaking/producing. It is probably not the most thorough history by any means(I haven't read as many as I can yet), but it is going off a collective few people's memories about the business and their love of film.

I think I would feel similar if YouTube sent me one of the nice silver plaques, to the way they talk about getting sections on movie store shelves featuring them and the movies they put much heart & soul into creating. I do not think I will ever make something as good as their movies(though I sadly haven't watched most of the movies mentioned in this book).

[Melissa French · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was kind of a 3.5 for me. I enjoyed the interviews a great deal. But for people who know a good deal about late 20th century pop culture, there's not a lot new here. I wish that there had been a little more analysis or insight provided by the author--something other than just the interviewees.

[Steve Moudry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quick, fun, nostalgic read with some interesting antidotes on video store culture.

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Because of my age, I am the video store generation. I was there at the beginning when one would go to the local video store with their family to pick out the weekend's movies. I was there when large corporate chains emerged carrying hundred to thousands of VHS then DVDs of all genres. And I was there when the entire system collapsed and went away.

I truly miss wandering the aisles, picking up the boxes, and looking at the description of the movie. I even miss working in a video store, seeing all the new films come into the store, and discussing titles with my co-workers and customers. From the many interviews in this book, there are many directors who feel the same way. This tiny book gathers the feelings of many directors who came from the world of video stores, as well as directors who were able to create films due to the explosive and lucrative home video market. It's a fascinating story with a true beginning, middle, and end. It did drag a little when they got more into the details of the business with investors, units sold, etc. I wanted Tom Roston to stick to the emotions that were created and are now missed from visiting video stores and growing up in that era.

The book is a fast read and probably could have used more content and dialogue from directors. It would have been interesting to also hear from writers and others currently in the movie business. I would have also liked to have heard from more people of color. Did none who worked in video stores go onto careers in entertainment? Interesting. to think about that.

I want to end this review by saying I really do miss the days of going to the video store.

[Petty Lisbon · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5
I really enjoyed this book. I wouldn't say that I'm a huge movie person but this book is good if you like the fandom and culture parts of pop culture as opposed to something straight up, like film theory. It was good enough where I didn't really care about not knowing a lot of the directors interviewed or if I enjoyed their projects (At least the author recognized most of the interviewees were white and male). At 180 pages, it was full of tidbits about how movie economics work and other interesting trivia. If you are a "real" movie fan, I don't know how much you would get out of this, but you could probably still read it casually and enjoy it. My favorite quote was the one on page 116 from Nicole Holofcener about how "your bar gets lower and lower and Barnes and Noble used to be the enemy but now you're happy it's still there".

Also, I'm going to be that guy and wonder why these people don't go to libraries. Obviously rural libraries (and urban ones) can be underfunded but I live in a well connected library network and generally the only things I haven't been able to watch are random 90's festival indie movies or things that are on streaming services I'm too stubborn to pay for. I feel like a lot of the people in this book live near a metro area where you could put a request for any new Criterion release that comes out. Sure, libraries just arrange movies alphabetically and it's not as cool but there are still random movie clubs.

[Rowan Sully Sully · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you're just looking for a quick overview of Video Rental stores and the culture around them as told by filmmakers who either worked at or frequented them, this is an entertaining enough read. However, it's not very in-depth. It neither includes a wide-enough range of opinions from it's very small number of contributors (focused on White men) or gives much of a background to situate their interviews. Each chapter is merely a bunch of conversational quotes pasted together without too much thought to flow. It's as if someone edited together a bunch of filmmaker interviews.

[RND · Rating 3 out of 5]

I grew up in this era too, so I had a certain nostalgic fondness for what the filmmakers talk about. While I thought this book was too short at first, by the end I realized that it was just about the right length, as certain people would already start being repetitive.

[Saint even · Rating 3 out of 5]

Twenty-two page intro for a 150-page book. should probably have just been a piece on one of the millions pop culture websites.

i don't hate mumblecore like a lot of people but i will probably not see any joe swanberg movies any time soon.

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

Inessential.

[Patrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really enjoyable read. Loved the oral history type format and the discussion about community. Pour one out for the local video stores. RIP Aardvark Video

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

Having been an owner of one of those long forgotten mom and pop video stores I was anxious to see what was written about them here with this book. It was nice to discover that so many movie makers of today were educated and had their thirst for film fulfilled by the tons of stores like mine that were found across the country. The chains may have offered multiple copies of the mega-hits but the mom and pop stores were the stalwarts of the business, offering classics and unheard of movies to fans they were clamoring for.

The book is not just an article turned into book length form describing from the author’s point of view alone what those stores meant. Instead he does something imaginative and reveals something few have discussed, or at least that I’ve read about. While he adds his own views the chapters are built up of interviews he’s had with several film makers about how those video stores were there mecca when it came to movies and how they became the educational tools they used to find out how movie were made from a creative standpoint.

Included among those directors are Quentin Tarantino (who also worked at a video store), Kevin Smith, Joe Swanberg, Darren Aronofsky, John Sayles, Allison Anders and more. Over a variety of topics each one adds to the story of the video store, from recollections of their favorite stores to how they learned technique from the movies they rented and watched.

The most revealing thing from this book was the idea that movie makers change from decade to decade. The earliest films were made by people learning how to make movies taking stories from stage to the screen. That was followed by a studio system that not only trained people how to make movies but kept them under contract forcing them to move from genre to genre. In the late sixties and early seventies we moved to the first of the film school graduates, directors who formally studied what came before and then altered those concepts with their own styles. Which brings us to the current crop of directors, those who never attended film schools but as fans and renters of the vast variety of films available at video stores learned their craft from watching tons of movies.

There is no one single item to single out from this book to recommend it. Indeed, the entire book is filled with memories of those talking, concepts derived from the films they learned from, discovering how they used those ideas to get into film making and more. All contribute equally and cover everything from mega-budget films to small independent films.

What the book leaves us wondering is what will come next? With the proliferation of streaming movies via things like Netflix and Hulu, what will the next graduating class of film makers learn and create? It’s an interesting concept and the book does the memory of those wonderful days of walking to the nearest video store proud.

[Kim (BritishLass929) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Ahhhh the video store. And all the nostalgia that it brings. I’m a video store geek. I even married the guy behind the counter. I spent many days wandering up and down aisles, playing this endless game of “You can’t consider yourself a critic if you haven’t seen XXX yet.” Each Tuesday was like Christmas. Working in a video store was one of the many dream jobs I never got to have. The closest I got was being a film reviewer. The VSG (Video Store Guy/Guide) taught me not just actors, but directors, cinematographers, and writers.

The video store influenced an entire generation of filmmakers in addition to patrons. This collection examines that influence in conversational detail, from the point of view of those on both sides on the counter. The interviewees are from all different parts of the US. All of them have a great deal of film knowledge.

The book details the entire run of videotapes – from its inception to its current state of life support. Much of the early history I didn’t know. It attacks the business, the development of the “independent film”, and the “future” of the industry.

Renting videotapes meant you can watch it repeatedly with no extra charge. It gave you the opportunity to study the film – frame by frame if needed. It’s impossible to see everything, but it is always possible to see more. Some of the interviewees talk about seeing their names on a shelf – an experience akin to the Holy Grail. Sometimes that even meant just as much as seeing your name in lights.

Video stores were also the home of the recommendation. If the clerks knew you well enough, it was like walking into a five-star hotel. They knew your name and even “reserved” things for you. We all know our friends’ tastes – and if they are close enough, we value their opinion. I’ve watched multitudes of films based on recommendations. Some worked. Others didn’t. But I never really felt like I wasted my time. If I got bored by a film, I had the all-powerful STOP button. And then I never spoke to that friend again (I’m kidding)

The biggest downfall of the book is the conversational style. There are only snippets from each person, and it’s difficult to really get involved in the conversation.

Reading this book was like walking down Memory Lane through yet another experience the next generation will not be able to have. That makes me sadder than I can ever truly express. Unfortunately, today’s technological advances don’t allow us to peruse the words on the back of a box, have a conversation with a knowledgeable store clerk, or add to their knowledge by grabbing a box and going. We may not have the history, but thanks to books like this we have the records of the historians.

[Luke Schwiebert · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm probably one of the few remaining people of my age group who still loves going to the video store, AND has the resources to regularly do so (being a Los Angeles resident with Vidiots and Cinefile practically right outside my door). So you can imagine my mixed feelings about this book's subtitle- sure, the age of video stores as a major cultural force has, without a doubt, passed, but dammit, don't jinx the last of them by claiming that they've vanished entirely!

Ah, well. The book itself is a knockout. Very lightweight, mind you - at 154 pages with 14-point font, you could easily knock it out in two hours, if that - but invaluable for the wealth of discussion to be had among the so-called video store generation of filmmakers. The two iconic clerk-turned-director heroes, Kevin Smith and Quentin Tarantino, are here, with remarkably polarized viewpoints on the era's end (Smith loves streaming and is only slightly melancholy about the change, while Tarantino hates it and hates Smith et. al. for liking it), and there's a laundry list of other directors here to share their thoughts. And that's in addition to the producers and distributors we have on hand to talk the business side of video's rise and fall. They all have fascinating things to say, and their words make me want to see their movies. I'd never heard of Allison Anders or Joe Swanberg before today, but reading their thoughts makes me want to take a closer look at them. And, more than that, this book has made me long for video stores' vanished heyday more than ever- the fate of Kim's Video, a THREE-STORY rental place in the middle of Manhattan, almost put me into hysterics. Video stores are dead; long live video stores.

[Harris · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a brief but pithy look into the lost world of video stores and the influence working in them and having access to so many VHS copies of movies had on the upcoming generation of filmmakers back in the ‘80s and ‘90s. The breezy chapters consist of interviews from such turn of the 21st century cinematic luminaries as Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith, Darren Aronofsky, Morgan Spurlock, and others as they discuss how working or renting from video stores shaped their approaches to the medium. After a fascinating essay by editor Tom Roston that sets up this specific time and place, he crafts these interviews into a “conversational” format, piecing together the contributor’s statements by topic, including how the home video market began changing how people interacted with the medium.

As a historical depiction of this period of time, when films became more accessible to the public to be studied in depth, frame by frame, but before online and streaming technologies detached the medium from any physical constraints, there are some interesting thoughts discussed here and there. There was definitely some nostalgic qualities to reading the experiences, especially since I found myself working at such an establishment for a brief time as their reign was ending, in 2001. However, perhaps because I found it such a miserable experience (as is much of retail), the rose-colored glasses and romanticized memories touted in these interviews left me a little cold. Or perhaps because I’m not really much of a fan of any of the aforementioned luminaries, it at times become a little bit of a tedious, overwhelmingly masculine exercise in self-congratulation.

[Sebastian Zavala · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book's been receiving some harsh reviews, stating it's not as deep as it could've been. Well, yeah, it kinda only touches the surface of the subject, and yeah, the interviews are not very well balanced. We get a lot of Kevin Smith, for example, and quite a bit of Quentin Tarantino, but people like James Franco or Luc Besson only appear sporadically.
Nevertheless, I really liked this book. Being a "90s kid", I'm really nostalgic about the whole video store sub-culture, even though here in Peru we only had Blockbuster and a couple other options (West Coast Video and Drugstore Home Video). I liked the way all these filmmakers and producers and executives had different opinions regarding the life and death of these stores--from Tarantino, who simply doesn't understand WHY people stopped going to video stores, to Darren Aronofsky, who gets that people are watching more and more films online, and had to actually do an iPhone-compatible sound mix for his movie Noah.
All in all, it's a very entertaining, somewhat light, but very interesting book. And if you have a very particular nostalgic feeling for these physical formats, for the ritual of going to the store and actually collecting movies in a physical form, you're gonna love it.

[Bill · Rating 5 out of 5]

For those of us who came of age in the VHS era, this book is pure gold. Tom Roston provides us with a fast-paced, detailed oral history of the rise and fall of the video store era, with the unique perspective of talking directly to filmmakers like Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino, David O. Russell and many others about the topic and its impact on their work. This approach gives the reader the feeling of sitting at a coffee house, bar, or video store discussing the progression that led us from renting to streaming. As a lifelong movie fan, I can't tell you how much I enjoyed this book. An extra bonus is the disagreement among the filmmakers as to the effect of streaming on our viewing and consumption of film. My only complaint is that I wish the book were longer. Essential reading for anyone interested in pop culture and the art of film.

[Gabriel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty fun, if not a little slight, oral history of the influence the video store had on the classic "indie film" generation of the late 80's and 1990's. It's not super deep but the reminiscence factor is pretty strong and if you spent any time as a fan of film during that period then this will almost surely resonate with you. The most insightful moments of this book deal with the real power the direct to video agents of the era had and how that power begat some of our most influential filmmakers. "Where do we go next?" the interviewees wonder. They make an attempt to postulate an answer but fittingly it's where we're left...wondering how does cinema change in the streaming zeitgeist? The book can't answer, but after this book reminded of the heyday of where we were I'm even more curious to see.

[Jake Jarvi · Rating 3 out of 5]

A two-sitting read. I picked this up because of how much I love the directors Roston speaks with and because of how much I loved the video store experience.

Especially interesting when they outline how the video rental boom created the formula that lead to the rise of the 90s independent film movement. It created the avenue by which unconventional voices could make original stories with budgets of a million dollars or over. Absolutely fascinating.

I miss the video stores. A lot. So does Tarantino. Big time.

It was a pleasure hearing Roston speak live when he brought this book to the Music Box in Chicago. It was a shame the Q&A turned into people in the audience trying to prove how movie literate and esoteric they could be by tossing statements toward the panel instead of questions.

[Eric · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book involves some interesting points about how the video era aided a few of the seminal independent filmmakers of the 90s in financing their films, but by-and-large it is insubstantial fluff. The “conversational” format is often jarring–sometimes the interviews seem completely unrelated to each other, other times they are directly commenting on one another. Notorious chatterboxes like Kevin Smith and Quentin Tarantino feel like they take up the bulk of the pages (with lengthy sections on Clerks and Reservoir Dogs), and the book reads like a few friends waxing nostalgic on a bygone era. A lengthier examination might have been valuable, but there’s no more substance here than an hour-long podcast episode. Entertaining? Yes. But ultimately slight and utterly forgettable.

[Jeffrey · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very quick read - it is basically a compilation of interviews with Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino, Tim Blake Nelson, Doug Liman, John Sayles, and about a dozen other directors/producers/actors in Hollywood. The subject matter is the effect that video stores had on these different people, the open access to a variety of movies and classics, the interaction with customers, and the way that the marketplace changed with the advent of DVDs and ultimately streaming video (Netflix, etc.). This is an interesting, quick read - too bad the author did not expand the scope to include music and the death of record stores. That could have resulted in a more substantial and more interesting book. Sadly, this is one to borrow - not own. I read it in 20 minutes.

[William Bevill · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wish the author had inserted himself into the interviews letting us know more about his love of VHS. I connected with so many of these interviews and relate well as I too browsed and lived in the VHS aisles of video stores, eating up classics and oddball films, and often illegally taping them to my own blank VHS tapes (I still have them; shh, don't tell). It was a magical time that cannot be replicated, and yet I understand the opposing viewpoints that love digital and Netflix, because I am trying to find a happy medium between both DVD's and digital. In the end, it seems like Tarantino and Kevin Smith dominate this book, and I like the contrasting viewpoints. A good read, easy to digest, but not too memorable in the simple interview format.

[Kate · Rating 2 out of 5]

Disappointing collection of interview snippets cobbled together to read like a huge 'round table' discussion. Too much focus on distribution scenarios, and not enough on the actual impact that video store culture had, not only on those interviewed, but on the media as a whole.
Too few voices are utilised here, and by the end (where streaming services such as Netflix are discussed) it just comes across as a group of middle aged white guys ranting about modern technology, with only one or two sensible voices spouting common sense.
A very quick read that would actually be better suited to an extended/special edition of a magazine rather than a published book.

[Dan Taylor · Rating 3 out of 5]

Filmmakers and artists gather to discuss the impact of video stores and VHS culture in this glorified magazine article. It would have been nice had the net been cast a bit wider than the likes of Tarantino and Kevin Smith, though they easily provide the book's funniest moments and the two should really consider a speaking tour with one another. Always nice to see my beloved BLOODSUCKING FREAKS and RE-ANIMATOR get mentioned and read about how straight to video horror sequels like the SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT flicks helped bankroll RESERVOIR DOGS. A breezy, largely forgettable read though it did have me itching to grab a VHS off the shelf like the old days.

[Sean McCloy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very engaging history of video store culture in the U.S., mostly told through interviews with film-makers. My one minor criticism is that it's quite short and I would gladly have read more!

If you're feeling nostalgic about video stores, why not check out Neon Phantoms: A Tale of Movie Obsession!