In recent times, followers of popular culture have been discussing the demise of bricks and mortar book, record and video stores including the ramifications for those of us who don't much like the idea of perpetually inhabiting a virtual world where shopping online is supposed to represent advanced social progress.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
I enjoy browsing in bookshops and record stores because handling a physical object will always be more satisfying than downloading a digital file and there is often the possibility of worthwhile human interaction. I also enjoy the option of renting a movie from a video store however archaic that might seem.
For many years I frequented Video Ezy in Weston and when the inevitable announcement came that it was closing and all in-store DVDs were to be sold at rock bottom prices, I did what any self-respecting movie fan would do and raced down there to ensure unhindered access to the music section – Pink Floyd's psychedelic concert film Live at Pompeii has since occupied a special place on the shelf.
But while engaged in this adrenalin fuelled snatch and grab, I was aware that I was engaging in consumerism of the distasteful kind which raised a few questions: Why was this store closing and what should be done about it? Since then I have frequented Video Ezy in Phillip, one of the few remaining video rental stores in Canberra, and am well pleased it is still there.
I can rent a cinema classic like Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver at the same time as Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains the Same whenever the baffling urge to experience overblown stadium rock from the mid 1970s takes hold. How could I do such things if this voluminous archive of movies good and bad was to close?
The situation is simply this: I don't enjoy the idea of standing in the middle of a shopping mall, choosing the latest "hit" movie from a vending machine as if it was a can of coke. Nor does it seem right to stream movies only because it's the easy option – who wants to spend every waking moment in front of a computer screen? Some of this is also about the thrill of the chase.
I decided on a whim that I wanted to see the David Lynch film Lost Highway again.
It probably hadn't been borrowed for some years as the store dude had some trouble finding it, but when it was discovered he held the case up like it was a long lost relic from some ancient library.
There was something enjoyable about making the discovery and all it took was a short trip into Woden's industrial environs for that to happen.
