by June Stoddard Chappe
I remember the first day I walked in the door
Of Vidiots, just down the block,
with David in our first months of courtship
He lit up, Took me on a tour
Showed me his favorite sections
Action movies, Film Noir, Spaghetti Westerns
We watched for hours, and… cuddled
Talking and analyzing each film
by Evan J Peterson
Tuesday will be the third night of SHRIEK: A Women of Horror Film and Discussion Class, located in the Scarecrow Video screening room. This week, we’ll watch The Silence of the Lambs, a classic police procedural thriller with an amazing final girl—but is it a slasher film, or something else?
by Andrew Blossom
When Kate Barr of Scarecrow Video invited me to contribute a column to Scarecrow’s celebration of Independent International Video Store Day, she suggested several possible topics. One of these was Jewels of the Video Fan Collection. This suggestion caused my mind to bump slightly sideways—not to the most precious stones, necessarily, but rather to films I’ve only seen because I work at my particular video store. Here’s a sampling. Without the Video Fan, these films would not exist for me. I hope you’ll seek them out at Scarecrow, or at whatever beloved video store is near you.
by Marguerite Corrigan
I never had the courage to be a harlot. A jezebel. A lady of the night. But I play one in my day-dreams. When I was a child, I dreamt of Scarlett O’Hara, perched on her decrepit plantation staircase clutching a shotgun, glowing in Technicolor. I must have watched Gone With the Wind a hundred times, until the VHS fell apart. I stretched the iridescent film strip between my fingers and wondered how so much beauty could be contained in such a tiny picture.
My love affair with film began on Vivian Leigh’s face. From that point on, I loved watching old movies. I l tried to imagine that I was a siren of the silver screen, teetering on the edge of doom while I was painfully stuck in puberty. For me, film has always been about the power of transcendence, to be lost in the beauty of a detail. A woman’s handkerchief, a glare on the windowpane, soft words whispered in the night. I’m the kind of person who will labor over a detail and I suppose that’s why film appeals to me. Because every detail is a labor of love.