It is no secret that I am an 80s kid, a GenXer. We are the smallest generation out there but we also had some of the most impact on the world. That era gave us some of the most notable musicians and pop culture additions that still live on today. For me, the 80s started a love of movies that I have only seen increase as I age. And the single most memorable spot of that era is video rental stores. It made watching movies we wanted to see easier and it gave rise to what we now know as video on demand, this was its grandfather. Granted, more often than not it was like the grandfather you tolerated because of the gifts he often gave you.
If you are an 80s kid, this was your weekend. No streaming service needed, no endless choices of things that some algorithm suggest. You are at the mercy of what fandom will say is the most important thing to watch or you rely on your particular movie tastes. It was a simpler time, arguably more enjoyable time. Join me today as we take a trip back in time to celebrate the magic of video rental stores, VHS tables, and picking the perfect movie for your weekend viewing parties as we dive into VHS & Chill: Why 80s Movie NIghts Were the Real Streaming Experience.
- Rewind to a simpler time
- The ritual of the rental
- VHS vibes and movie night magic
- The lost art of rewatching
- Be kind, rewind… the feeling
Rewind to a simpler time
The scene slowly comes into focus, a town appears. Not just any town, your hometown. Slowly, at first, the vantage point shifts and now we are zooming in, someone comes into view. Where are they going, what are they doing, is it important or just a casual walk? Who knows but the camera is still coming in revealing more about the character in front of us. Suddenly, you realize its you and it’s a Friday night. You are on your way to the local movie store, on a mission to find the perfect movie or movies for a friday movie marathon. Your hand wraps around the handle of the door and you slowly pull it towards you. Your senses are awash in the smells, sounds, and sights of the movie store and it leaves you reeling from the excitement and possibilities. You head to the New Release rack first, to see if the movie you have been waiting on is available… amazingly, there it is – just one left. This must be divine providence. You get to the counter with your movies in hand, the clerk welcomes you and asks for your membership card. You grab your wallet, pulling the rental card out, you had it over. Your entire mind reeling with the excitement of getting to see this new movie. You grab some snacks, pay for your selection and you are out the door, on your way home to watch them with your friends, family, or just yourself.
It is easy to say that we live in a world of convenience. At our fingertips is almost every piece of information imaginable, that includes music, books, and movies. You never have to leave the comfort of your bed to find anything you may enjoy, arguably that seems to be the perfect combination of things. But what if I told you there was a much simpler time, a time where the adventure of waiting to find out if you could rent a movie you wanted was going to happen or not. How not being told what to watch could lead you to greater possibilities of choices. A time where sharing it with friends of family was an event and not just another night. It did exist and it it was known a video rental, one of the many signatures of the 80s.
Renting and watching a movie was a ritual to the old gods of film. It was personal and created excitement in a way that the streaming services of today cant quite duplicate. Skipping credits and intros required effort and took you out of the moment. It require percision and finesse, something lost in renting today. You visited the same store and the clerks grew to know you and were able to could offer you better suggestions than Amazon can, with all its listening power.. You got the ability to see the cover art, flip it over and read the summary of the movie and decide if it was something you would like. Your only limitation was what the store had in stock, sometimes it was in your favor and sometimes it meant you picked something you might not normally get. It was about taking a risk, you had to commit because you paid for it. It was weekend movie magic.
The ritual of the rental
All video stores were alike, in one way or another. It seemed they all had that patented video store smell, whether it was Blockbuster or the local mom and pop Video Rental. The floor was covered in cheap Berber carpet, shelves made of white pressboard or, on the rare occasion, wire shelves, and the bad overhead fluorescent lighting. The sites, sounds, and smells were… unique, to say the least.
Those video stores were more akin to libraries or bookstores, it was the trailhead to adventure. Walking in the door, you had to choose what your adventure was going to be like. Were you looking for a masked killer stalking your nights, the love of that in person who always seems to allude you, the thrill of a high speed chase or gun fight, or the unexpected adventures that come from space travel. Whatever it was, you had to make your initial selection to pick the path you started on. Then and only then, could you enter the labyrinthine layout of the movie shelves.
Our first video rental came from a place called Custom Video, that used to exist in Christiansburg, Virginia. It was a small shop that also sold outdoor gear in the back of it. It was a log cabin styles house wiht a huge porch. We had never rented a movie before, never used a VCR. The store carried Beta-Max, Laser Disc, and VHS and players to match each style. Let me tell you, the excitement I had at the prospect of being able to watch a movie in the comfort of our own home, without commercial interruption, was a luxury that my small country mind could not wrap around.
My mother picked out a few titles and my sister and I were allowed to pick out something for us. It felt like we were in that store for days, making our choices. The vastness of categories were limitless. Sections of horror, action, scifi, fantasy, comedy, drama, and kids movies was amazing. Then there was the dark curtained off section that kids could not enter but who were so curious to find out what laid beyond — the Adult section. Having made our selections, rented our VHS player for the weekend, off we went to prepare our new viewing experience.
But you never could leave the store, fully excited, with your choices. Whether on your receipt, sign on the counter, or the door leaving, was that warning that often sent chills down your spine… “Please, be kind and rewind.” You knew those words were a veiled threat of the unexpected charge for not returning that movie on time and at the beginning so the next person could enjoy it. And let’s hope you didnt become so engrossed in the adventure that you forgot to return your rentals that Monday or you would receive a nice fine on your next rental.
VHS vibes and movie night magic
Ahh movie nights, the memories that take me back. I often tried to decide what I wanted to watch before we ever got there. I would listen to what my friends were watching and make mental checklists. All of this would be for naught. We would get there and the movie posters, cardboard cutouts, and VHS boxes were like flames drawing in unsuspecting moths. Every thought I had, gone from my head, awash in the vivid scenes laid out on the shelves before us. But that was part of the adventure.
For us, movie nights often revolved around getting a pizza from Pizza Hut or Sal’s pizza. Dad would be in his chair, in front of the bay window, facing away from it towards the couch. Mom and April would take their places on the couch, and I would be on the floor propped up against the ottoman with our lounging pillow. The movie didn’t start or end until dad said so. The only pauses came if he had to get up, otherwise it was a mad dash to the kitchen for a refill and hope you didnt miss something important. It was the one time in our family where the drama and feelings I often carried around would slip quietly into the recesses, for an hour and a half, anyway.
Being a kid, you have little choice in the movies you get to watch, for the most part. The times that we came home with movies that were more for my father than us are too many to count. But, no matter what was being shown, you didnt miss it. You sat there angry it wasnt what you wanted to see, watching every nuance until the end. Thankfully, movie nights with your friends often yielding better chances of seeing something you liked. The whole thing was an act of bonding, bonding with your family or friends over a shared experience that would have lasting effects on you.
The lost art of rewatching
As I look back, there was comfort in VHS. I mentioned earlier the ritual of it all, it really was like a spiritual ritual. Watching a movie was an event. You picked the perfect spot to watch it and made it as comfortable as needed. There was forethought in the snacks you were going to eat and was part of the atmosphere building of it all. You turned down the lights, drew the shades, and surrendered your senses to the magic that was about to wash over them. You wanted the perfect environment with minimal distractions to fully emerge yourself. This was all without the massive surround sounds we have now or wall sized televisions. It was personal, intimate, it was the way home viewing was intended.
If you were like our family, you probably had around ten or so VHS tapes in your library. Those were the movies that had the most significance to you and you knew them by heart. More than likely, you watched them so much that the tape started to wear thin and you really had to work that tracking bar to watch it. Sick days were the perfect time for rewatching your favorites. You would wrap up in a blanket on the couch and just engross yourself and wallow in how you felt. The comfort of an old friend making you feel better. Today, the whole thing lacks the kind of intimacy that VHS offered.
Be kind, rewind… the feeling
That 80s movie night was more than just watching a film, it was about sharing and creating memories. It was about falling in love with a story, the way we were supposed to. It was personal and required an investment. It created memories, whether from the feeling of standing around a stove as you shook that package of Jiffy Pop popcorn, watching it pop until you had that foil ball full of popcorn or from constantly trying to dial in that tracking to the perfect spot, those memories stuck with you, adding to the feelings the movie left you with. It was… amazing.
What about you, what VHS movie night memories do you have? Let me know in the comments below. And what better way to relieve them than creating that feeling again. The next time you get together to watch a movie, recreate that ritual, choose the movie together, make the popcorn, dont press the skip buttons, and just enjoy the moment. Then, let me know what you watch in the comments below.
Thanks to each and everyone of you who make GayintheCLE what it is, you guys are amazing and I couldn’t do it without you.
Gay in the CLE 