Some films are even better the second time, and it's true with At the Video Store. My first-timer friend remarked about the wild pace of the editing, the music, the openness of the interviews, with a special nod to Final Cut 7 (a favorite of his), the people and places he knew, studded with references to the lives of millions of us. It was fun to watch it with him and get his open take.
The sadness I felt during the showing at the end of so many video stores and passions, many featured in the film, was more than simple slackjawed gee-whiz nostalgia, that's what hamburgers and hot dogs are for. At the Video Store captures a critical cultural component belonging only to a few American generations, a phenomenon that gave us access to the whole world of films at ages of growth and development when this kind of access mattered the most. So many of the stores and their resident expertise are now gone to the point of pilgrimage, and the rarity of the treasured remaining video stores is made even more beautifully evident here. This film by James Westby is important, and it's damn good.
