Pre-Talkie Terror!

If tales of true murder are your bag, then Rick Geary is your bagman. The veteran cartoonist has written children’s books and adapted classic literature stories into graphic novel format, such as Great Expectations and The Invisible Man, he’s best known for his accounts of true crime, namely The Borden Murder, The Beast of Chicago, The Murder of Abraham Lincoln, Jack the Ripper and The Lingbergh Child. (More info on his works at his official site, here). The excellently researched tales explore the details of the cases, offering plenty of historical factoids along the way. They play out like Masterpiece Theatre versions of Unsolved Mysteries, while Geary’s style – clean lines on white backgrounds with detailed cross-hatching – is somewhere between Robert R. Crumb, Edward Gorey and the Ripley’s Believe it or Not comic strips. Informative, engrossing and a visual treat to take in, whenever I get my hands on one of his books I cruise through it in a single sitting.

Geary’s latest is of particular interest to cinephiles; called Famous Players: The Mysterious Death of William Desmond Taylor, it’s about the murder of a renowned director in the early, pre-talkie days of Hollywood. Geary firmly contextualizes the atmosphere of the time by offering a mini-history of how Hollywood came to be, from a “sleepy village nestled in the foothills of Los Angeles” to the site of the birth of the motion picture industry shortly into the 20^th century, including the iconic figures who opened the first studios. He also depicts early Hollywood as fraught with sex scandals, drug abuse and other sensationalized crimes (make your own joke about Lindsay Lohan’s great-grandmother).

He then dives into the crime, depicting how Taylor (pictured), a wealthy filmmaker, was found murdered via gunshot by his servant, who arrived in the morning. There’s a list of suspects fitting of an Agatha Christie novel, including a spurned admirer, an angry mother, a thieving ex-employee, hard-partying Hollywood stars, an estranged brother and a secret past life. Geary nails down all the juicy details, from forensic evidence suggesting a certain starlette to a look at each one of the suspects’ alibis. Just as interesting, though, is the attention to the details of the case, such as how members of the press posed as policemen and kidnapped Taylor’s servant, going to ridiculous Scooby-Doo lengths to try to force a confession.

The crime took place in 1922 (before the notorious Hays Code), as Geary points out, and it was a wild place, even by today’s standards. He doesn’t just offer a murder mystery, he’s giving you a Hollywood history lesson, one that comes complete with a hand-drawn map of the area at the time. I won’t ruin the ending, but I will say that Geary even follows the case and its lasting effects up to now, which really gives one a sense of history. On the way, he jumps from location to location, constantly moving between the stories of the various, well, famous players in the story, which results in a brisk pace and a very cinematic feel.

For more info on the Taylor case, read this Wikipedia entry. For more Geary books, go here.

 

-Dave Alexander

One of Us?

Michael Jackson was a freak before he was a freak – just one of the things I learned while watching the extras on the Freaks DVD tonight. Aside from some of his early Motown stuff, I’ve never been a MJ fan, but it’s impossible not to have the death of the King of Pop on the brain. So I looked over ye olde DVD shelf tonight to see if there was something related to his passing that I wanted to write about. Hmmm…what jumped to mind? In My Skin? Eyes Without a Face? Fiend Without a Face? Uhhh…

OK, clearly the first thing that springs to when I think about Michael Jackson is his “deviations” and not his pop stardom. Most of us think feel the same way, I’d venture to say, as the guy’s weirdness – physical, behavioural and, well, fashion-wise – overshadowed his music stardom long ago. “Wacko Jacko” was a self-made freak. So, the obvious choice was to re-watch Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks.

Browning, who is best know for making the original Bela Lugosi Dracula, destroyed his career with the film, which shocked and upset audiences and censors greatly at the time because of its use and portrayal of actual circus “freaks.” It tells the story of a traveling sideshow, in which one of the midgets, Hans (Harry Earles), is duped by a non-freak trapeze artist Cleo (Olga Baclanova), who marries him for his money, with the plan to poison him and take his inherited fortune. What makes the film so affecting and unmatched to this day is its use of actual circus freaks: a bearded lady, half-man (the renowned Johnny Eck), the pinheads, a human torso, conjoined twins, etc., etc., etc.

Browning paraded dozens of performers in front of the camera, both exploiting them and humanizing them, while telling a story full of uncomfortable ideas, perhaps best exemplified by the banquet scene where the freaks chant “One of us, one of us!” to Cleo – who has just married the child-sized man – while she looks on in horror.

The story behind the film is just as fascinating as the movie itself, and the disc includes a documentary that’s about as long as this short feature (just over an hour), called Freaks: The Sideshow Cinema. It includes interviews with several actual sideshow performers, historians and film expert David Skal, who has written several books and appeared on the extras of several DVDs of the genre classics variety.

One of the points made on the documentary is that “freak” isn’t necessarily a negative term. Indeed, one of the dictionary definitions of “freak” is “any abnormal phenomenon or product or unusual object; anomaly; aberration.” It’s pointed out on the doc that this applies to not only someone with a physical deformity or abnormality, but anyone who stands out from the norm – for being exceptionally attractive, or even talented. Long before Michael Jackson altered his physical appearance, he was a freak of exceptional performing abilities. The sometimes used slang “freakishly talented” would certainly apply.

Skal mentions in The Sideshow Cinema that a self-styled freak is a “gaft-freak” (I’m not sure if this is the correct spelling; I was unable to find the term online – anyone know?). Of course, self-styled freaks, if you want to use the term, are everywhere these days, with tattoos, piercings, implants and other surgeries. As far as freakshows go, they’ve either morphed into counter-culture extravaganzas, such as The Jim Rose Circus and its brethren, or have pretty much died out, as the line between “freak” and “normal” is less clear than ever, and we live in a culture of increasing acceptance and political correctness.

Jackson, however, was the both the world’s most famous freak and one that managed to be truly disturbing, because he wasn’t trying to be a freak (seemingly) and his freakishness seemed to have a mental illness attached to it. I found that pictures of the guy were increasing uncomfortable to look at, as he’d whittled away his human features through what clearly some very irresponsible plastic surgery, and dressed in a way that dared you to sneak a peek at what was behind the scarf, hat and mirrored sunglasses. And, as I already mentioned, his behaviour – from the dangling babies, to the outrageous purchases, to the lifestyle (Neverland Ranch anyone?) to the child molestation allegations – only further removed his humanity, and made seem, if not freakish, downright monstrous.

For better and worse, Michael Jackson was truly a freak. Freaks, particularly the extras on the disc, illustrates the evolution of freaks and freakshows, offers food for thought on the meaning of the word, and made me realize that MJ – before he moonwalked off this mortal coil – was proof that the Freakshow simply got bigger, once it moved from the tent to the tabloid.

 

- Dave Alexander

One Good Road Trip Deserves Another

You can only drive so far with sugar in your gas tank, and that goes the same for maple syrup – such is the problem with One Week. Having just returned from a vacation that consisted of hitting the highways of Alberta, there’s no better time to take the Canuck road trip movie for a spin. Annoyingly, like many other Canadian movies (OK, to be precise, movies made in English Canada, as Quebecois cinema is a huge exception), it alienates with a nation-building agenda that’s just so damn try-hard that sometimes you wanna scream into a butter tart.

Vancouver-born Joshua Jackson (yes, that guy from Dawson’s Creek) stars as Ben, a failed-author-turned-malaise-riddled-school-teacher who learns that he’ll probably die of cancer and decides to temporarily leave his fiancé and life in Toronto for a road trip out west on a vintage motorbike. His sojourn along the Trans-Canada Highway is packed with life-changing moments, as he meets extraordinary people, beholds sublime sights and introspects until he achieves the transcendence needed to become the person we all want him to be. While the beauty of the country captured by the camera is genuine (for the most part – that breeching whale off the coast of Vancouver Island looks like blown-up stock footage), much of the movie has that calculated, constructed feel of so many Canuck flicks that shotgun cultural signifiers at the viewer because they REALLY WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU’RE WATCHING A CANADIAN MOVIE, EH.

Writer/director Michael McGowan’s heart is in the right place, but his script seems like it was designed to be a government grant agency’s wet dream. Shortly after Ben starts his trip, he considers heading back home but becomes inspired to press on by a couple of spunky Maritime teens who are on their own (pedal) bike trip because of a promise they made. We learn that those hardy Maritime folks sure do keep their word, we get an obligatory mention of Canadian Tire, and then we move on. And because we don’t have a stop in Quebec, later we learn that Ben’s favourite song is a French lullaby that his mother would sing to him. It’s as if the movie’s saying, “Don’t you worry, Quebec, you’re invited too!” Hell, I half expected Ben to come across an Inuit person building an inukshuk on the side of the highway – just because.

Taken on their own, these heavy-handed moments are forgivable, but when a story is peppered with ‘em, they become intrusive and irritating. The worst example of this occurs when Ben receives a quizzical message after rolling up the rim on his Tim Horton’s coffee cup: “Go West Young Man.” A prophetic Tim Horton’s reference… really? Really? Reminding Canadians that they love a certain corporate coffee chain to the extent where they’ve built it into their national identity(!) is one of the lamest pop-culture clichés we’ve got, and it really needs to stop.

And speaking of things that are more obvious than clever, the cameo by Tragically Hip singer Gord Downie as a sort-of pot smoking mystic is cheese. Downie is fine in the role, but it’s just one more forced in-joke. Similarly, later, in a completely random occurrence that has little bearing on the story, Ben meets a folk singer in the middle of the woods (played by singer Emm Gryner), whom he sleeps with, seems to fall in love with immediately, but never really mentions again. The subplot of Ben’s troubled relationship with his fiancé, Samantha (played by excellent Canadian actress Liane Balaban – see New Waterford Girl for proof), doesn’t come to a believable resolution either. Again, it feels like the story is being sacrificed for the excessive Canadian-isms.

Much better, and much more cinematic, are all the “big things” that Ben visits, such as Medicine Hat’s giant tipi (which thankfully the film acknowledges as pretty friggin’ underwhelming), Gravenhurst’s huge Muskoka chair (pretty cool!) and, I think, Sudbury’s massive nickel (a classic). (Sadly he’s doesn’t make it to the gargantuan Ukrainian Easter Egg in Vegreville.) Actually, the geography in the film is pretty screwed up, with Ben visiting things out of linear order for an East to West trip. This is one of the most hotly-contested aspects One Week, as you can see for yourself in the Ask The Director section of the film’s website. If you’re making a film that hinges so much on a culturally-specific journey, that kind of thing matters, at least to your target audience.

What it comes down to is that a road trip film needs to have a natural flow, so the Can-con has to fit into naturally. It only does sometimes in One Week. There are a good number of legitimately transcendent moments; it really is overwhelming to see Ben gaze upon the badlands from horseback, to contemplate his fate wile sitting on a surfboard in the Pacific or to gain perspective in the shadow of the Terry Fox statue. This stuff seems real, like moments you could easily have while road tripping across the nation yourself. Other scenes, though, particularly the one where Ben runs across the Stanley Cup by accident in a small town, are like being beaten with a rolled up flag.

Despite all these gripes, I really respect McGowan for making the film because there’s a lot of love and sweat behind it, which is particularly apparent if you watch the behind-the-scenes stuff on the DVD (newly released by Mongrel Media). I’d recommend One Week on the strength of those genuinely transcendent moments that naturally capture the cinematic beauty of Canada. (The excellent soundtrack helps too; it features great road trip songs from the likes of Sam Roberts, Great Lake Swimmers, Stars and Joel Plaskett –who also has an unnecessary cameo in the film as a busker).

Having spent the better part of last week winding my way through the Rockies, snaking through the badlands, chasing the horizon of a seemingly endless prairie landscape, there’s no doubt in my mind that the overwhelming beauty of this country can speak for itself. For anyone trying to make a truly “Canadian” film: there’s no need to scream “O Canada” in anyone’s face, just tell us a story that rings true to the tune of the nation itself.

-Dave Alexander

Listen Up, Dudes

As much as I like being entertained by watching others’ adventures, I need to have my own, and this week I’m off on vacation, touring around Alberta, so let’s keep it simple. Here are five film-related things I’m excited about, in order of awesomeness.

 

1. Lebowski Fest in Toronto: the touring Lebowski Fest – a celebration of all things Big Lebowski – is making its first Canadian stop in Toronto, and that means the white Russians will be flowing through my fair city like a river of manna from heaven. A few years ago I covered one of the Lebowskifests in Vegas for Spin and it was the ultimate dude destination. There was a screening, an appearance by Jeff Dowd (the real-life guy the character was based on), many amazing costumes (ranging from a Jeffrey Lebowski in a motorized wheelchair to a guy who came as the carpet) and bowling night in which Achievers of every creed, colour and persuasion bonded over their shared knowledge of the greatest one-liners in the world (“Mark it zero!” could be heard throughout the lanes that night). Not a gang of nihilists, Jackie Treehorn’s thugs or a conflicting bowling tournament could keep me from attending this. Be there or be verrrry un-Dude.

 

2. FUBAR 2: it was announced last month that a sequel Michael Dowse’s hoseriffic headbanger comedy is in the works for 2010, which will be eight years after the first one – damn that’s hard to believe. FUBAR is essential Canuck comedy viewing, and the concept for part two sounds pretty awesome. According to this article, Dean (Paul J. Spence) and Terry (Dave Lawrence) will be looking to get rich working in the oil patch, and the events of the film will take place around Christmas. I hope the soundtrack is as good as the first one, as well. The New Pornographer’s cover of Toronto’s “Your Daddy Don’t Know” never leaves my mp3 player. As far as I can see, the only thing that threatens to hurt this project is that fact that the real-life headbanger types I’ve met that actually do work in northern Alberta in the oildfields are funnier than the Dean and Terry characters.

 

3. Back to the Future wedding cake: This insanely awesome BttF wedding cake ( which showed up on Boingboing – thanks!). I lack the words to describe how truly awesome this is. Can I get a Marty McFly made of marzipan, please?

 

4. The Eco-Box: I first noticed one of these a couple of months ago on a DVD that I bought and they seem to be popping up more regularly. The concept is ridiculously simple, they’re boxes designed in a way to use less plastic. While not as good as the cardboard boxes, at least this is a step in the right direction. Made for DVD, Blu-Ray and games, they look the same as a regular box on the outside, but have cut-outs in them that reduced the amount of plastic. The company’s biggest boasting point is that the cases “substantially reduce the mass of plastic by strategically removing material from non-functional inconspicuous areas.” And while the boxes are “recyclable,” they’re still made from regular plastic, as far as I can tell. But less plastic is a step in the right direction, so I’m all for the Eco-Box, even if they could be more green.

 

5. A new Conan movie – not directed by Brett Ratner: Yay! For years I’ve wanted to see the proposed King Conan movie, which would see Arnold Schwarzenegger playing the character as the aging hero; alas, that’s not gonna happen, but by Crom,  am I ever ready for a new Conan adventure. The problem was that hack filmmaker Brett Ratner (X-Men 3 and the Rush Hour series – ugh!) was signed on to the project. According to this Empire article, he’s been replaced by Marcus Nispel. Granted, Nispel did the crummy Friday the 13th remake, but his Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake is actually a pretty effective horror flick, and he showed a flair for shooting swordplay with Pathfinder, even if that film ultimately falls kinda flat. Anything’s better than Ratner – you can bet yer loincloth on it.

 

-Dave Alexander

Blockbusted Part 3: Live to Rent Another Day

To rent, or not to rent: that is just one of the questions.

In the previous two posts about the possible imminent demise of Blockbuster (scroll down to see ‘em), I compared my experiences of working at Blockbuster to that of working at an independent video store, stated my case as why I believe Blockbuster – and other corporate rental chains – are to film what McDonald’s is to cuisine, and I interviewed an independent DVD rental store owner in my neighbourhood about what it’s like trying to carve out a living in an environment where the big guys wiped out almost all of the little guys. (And let be very clear that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with working at Blockbuster, in fact I know some really cool folks employed there – I’m simply talking about the place as a business.) Below is part two of that interview with J.R. Grassby, owner of Big Daddy’s DVD Shop, but before that – after considering some of the things that J.R. told me – I’m going to weigh in what I think the future might hold for the movie rental market.

It seems like it’s going to continue to shrink, as mail services, downloads, streaming, etc, continue to flourish, but I also think it’ll level out. In particularly population-dense areas, the larger chains may still have stores but it’ll be about smaller floor space to minimize real estate rental costs. For example, the current owners of the indie store that I worked at cut their floor space in half and went to a system that uses partial bins, in which filed DVD covers can be flipped through (the great thing about the move from VHS to DVD was the less space required for the smaller discs).

I also believe that independent stores will start popping up again after the bigger guys pull out because they can’t make enough profit for their shareholders anymore. And those independent stores will do OK as long as they offer what the chain stores don’t, which is a more personal touch. This means that the local rental house becomes a place you want to stop by and browse and chat up the film geek employees and get out about in your community. On a very basic level, humans are visual and tactile, and I believe there’s a need to stand in front of a shelf and pick up DVD cases, look at the cover and read the backs of the cases.

Plus, we’re social animals, so if the local video store seems welcoming, it becomes a destination. I notice a lot of customer interaction when I go to Big Daddy’s (I’ve included some pictures of what it looks like inside) – it’s a place to run into your neighbours where you actually have something to chat about: movies. Lastly, much like one feels lost when handed a menu the size of a phone book at a restaurant, having any movie at your disposal to download is sometimes a drawback – it’s just too much choice. I like standing in front of that new release wall and being forced to choose from what’s there, I find that I’m more likely to pick something I might not otherwise consider, so there’s also that thrill of discovery. And because there are genuine movie lovers lording over this selection, you feel like you’re in safe hands and can get an honest opinion for the times when you’re either feeling adventurous or totally clueless when it comes to what you feel like watching.

But let’s see what else J.R has to say about it…

 

 

Even though films are readily accessible through mail services, online streaming, downloads, etc., people still seem drawn to the experience of going to the video store. Why?

 

I think a large population in a small geographical area will always just pop in and pick up a movie. If you are out and getting some groceries and going to pick up some baked goods or chocolate or taking your dog or child for a walk, it is easy to come in a shop like mine, take five minutes and pick up a couple of movies for the week. Coming in to Big Daddy’s is easy, everything is laid out properly; if you want a new release with Branjelina, it’s right there, if you want the latest Criterion film it’s right there too – no surfing no waiting, and you receive a quality product for a small fee. I think if you live in a suburb, or out in the country, renting a movie becomes more of an effort, and that's why I think the mail-out and to some extent the downloaders do very well outside of city limits. Is it affecting my bottom line? Absolutely! We have lost the fourteen to twenty four-year-olds, most of them have never purchased music let alone rent movies. Am I losing customers to downloading illegally or legally? Absolutely.

 

Why do you think Blockbuster is in such trouble? Are people simply renting less than they used to, or is there something about the business model that has failed?

 

I think the reason Blockbuster is losing money is because it, like lot of large public companies, is accountable to shareholders, and the shareholders are seeing a loss to the bottomline and investing in other commodities. A guy with $10,000 invested in Blockbuster could care less if the company purchased the latest, restored version of the first five seasons of the Little Rascals, he wants annual growth, regardless. Once Blockbuster introduced the now completely failed "no late fee" policy, the company erased more than 30% or its annual revenue. Now, as result it’s in tremendous trouble, and because of that policy, thousands of small video shops, like mine, in North America have shut their doors for good, because they could not compete with a company that essentially gets free products and rents them out for as long as the customer wants at no added cost. I think Blockbuster some how will completely destroy the rental market before it goes bankrupt, I don't know how, but instead of losing to the likes of Jumbo Video, Rogers or the smaller companies, they will ruin it for everybody.

 

Will there continue to be big chain rental stores in the future?

 

There is more than one game in town these days; there are so many movie channels, video games, the internet, sports channels, etc. Blockbuster didn't see the writing on the wall ten years ago, even though it was the one writing it. I think the days of the giant video stores are done, if you want to compete, you have to have a product that people want, and people don't just want thousands of new releases anymore (I know Blockbuster has more than just new releases, but they make up about two percent of the inventory – big deal). 

 

How about some advice for someone thinking about opening a small rental store that needs to survive amongst the big guys?

 

I think that as much as your product has to be desirable, so to does your service. I can tell you that when I first opened, I had a fifth of the inventory I have today, but people, for the most part, were patient and loyal to Big Daddy's because they liked the service provided. Even today I can't afford every movie I would like – it’s still a real grind

some months – but people like the personalities behind the counter and the service, and they come back. Be loyal to your community. As a shop owner just setting up, spend your money in that community and you will get so much support. Also, don’t be afraid of opening up right next door to Blockbuster. People are going there to rent a movie; you don't have to create a new path for them to travel, they will come in and support you. Most people like the little guy and would rather support faces they can see than stockholders.

 

Bloop, Bleep, Blorp – Your Website Sucks

[The final "Blockbusted" post will appear shortly, but first, something random!]

Lon Chaney may have been The Man of a 1000 Faces, but did he ever scare off a mob by making machine gun noises into a loudspeaker? Could he impress Steve Guttenberg by playing the harmonica without having a harmonica? Was he capable of fooling you into thinking your shoes were squeaking, when they weren’t really squeaking? No! Those honours are reserved for Michael Winslow, “Man of a 1000 Noises,” a.k.a. that guy from the Police Academy movies who makes all of the noises.

As a kid, I loved the guy in the Police Academy movies as Larvelle Jones (apparently, he’s the only person to appear in all six of the films, plus the T.V. series and the cartoon, so I guess he likes the character too). There’s no denying his skills a vocal acrobat; in fact, I’d always wondered why he didn’t get into hip hop with all the beat-boxing and crazy sound effects that he did in the films. (Well, the answer to that question is here, on his website, but we’ll get to that in a moment… .)

Boing Boing ran a blurb about Winslow, which includes a video montage of his most entertaining Police Academy clips, tied to an event that happened last night, in which Winslow provided a live score to “a varied sampling of classic and not-so-classic shorts from the silent era” at Hollywood’s Silent Movie Theatre. Wish I coulda been there.

But, while he’s a whiz at making sounds, he has the worst official celebrity website I’ve ever seen. Michaelwinslow.net doesn’t just enter the Bad Website Hall of Fame, it pole-vault’s into it while wearing a jetpack, smashing through the roof and enshrining itself in suck. Now, you don’t have to look too far and wide on this blog to know that I’m no designer, but Winslow’s site is so aggressively terrible, not even the Geocities webpages will give it the time of day.

For starters, the loading screen features a drawing of Winslow as a superhero who’s hanging out with an alien. Once the site loads, visitors are treated to one of his songs, which can be turned down but not off – and who doesn’t love that? The song itself definitively answers the “Why didn’t Winslow put his vocal prowess to use in hip hop?” question with a self-aggrandizing track about how he was the first beat-box emcee, set to beats straight out of 1990. Sure, it’s impressive that he apparently makes every single noise in the song with just his mouth, but his lyrical prowess tops out at “I’m takin’ back territory with the beat-box rap, y’all.”

And while you’re forced to listen to the tune, a cartoon squirrel pops up beside the metal control panel interface; originally rendered in pencil crayon – and complete with sunglasses and an olde timey record player – he looks like a disguised fugitive on the run fro a Jive Bunny and the Mastermixers album cover.

Oh, and there’s also a box on the bottom site with a glowing, swirling green background, which reads “NON-STOP PARTY” – in case for some reason you weren’t entirely convinced that listening to “I make the noise y’all” on a loop wasn’t the equivalent of infinite festivities.

Poke around michaelwinslow.net (there’s a squatter on michaelwinslow.com, by the way) and you’ll find some other songs, including “Monster Monster,” which is five minutes of Winslow repeating “monster, monster” over expectedly dated techno beats. Or, click on the “Biography” switch and you can read a wealth of typos. For example: “Currently you can also hear him in the Television Hits ‘Robo Chicken and Family Guy’ You cant miss him on those great ‘Geico’ commercials. And in the spring of 2008 he will grace the red carpet premiere of National Lampoons Robo Doc”

In that brief, period-starved paragraph alone, the mistakes reach double digits – impressive! Yet, I’m also partial to the “Store,” where you can “get your memrobilia.”

But wait! On the bottom right of the page, amidst this mix of dated design, unnecessary accoutrements, affronts to the English language and functional impairment resides the apex of awesome terribleness: a photo montage of Winslow set to Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” [No smart-ass remark here – just let the awfulness of that sink in for a moment instead.]

Somebody help the poor guy out, because if the quality of a celebrity’s website truly reflects that celebrity’s star power, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be long before poor Michael Winslow is reduced to making fart sounds for kids’ birthday parties.

-Dave Alexander

Blockbusted Part 2: The Fall and Rise of the Little Guys?

[This is the second part of Blockbusted, a series of posts where I rant about why I won’t shed any tears if Blockbuster Video goes bankrupt, reminisce about my own days as a video store employee and take a look at why local video stores rule. To read the first part, and the many colourful comments, go here]

 

Finally – I threw off the shackles of the collared blue shirt and khaki pants! OK, a little dramatic, but nevertheless it was a grand freakin’ day when I was able to quit Blockbuster and go work for the one of the oldest and most respected independent video stores in Edmonton: Sneak Preview. I had started a Film Studies degree and suddenly had access to massive, comprehensive movie library full of classics, cult, foreign and every other section a young movie dork could drool over – hell, they even had a ‘70s disaster movie section! This was where I would school myself outside of the classroom.

Plus, it was the place serious film buffs came to rent, so there were fantastic discussions about film (translation: total geek-outs) and chances to put that movie knowledge to work while recommending films. Even the cross-section of renters who weren’t cinema buffs but rather locals who came for the convenience were generally very cool and more fun to figure out in terms of their tastes because you could more easily turn them on to stuff that they’d never heard of. And you could proudly recommend that copy of Dead Alive to the horror lovers because dammit, it was uncut – a gorehound’s (very) wet dream.

Naturally, you had to deal with your share of morons, such as the scammers who would rent stuff and never return it, then come back a year later and try to open an account under a different name, but in general there was a great sense of community. Not to mention, you could actually employ common sense instead of company policy, and do things such as steer a customer away from a bad movie, or start a new section if it was a slow shift – or, even better, revamp that staff picks shelf. Ah, the staff picks…it’s the video store clerk’s reputation, his or her tastes distilled into little over a half-dozen titles, the sacred rental advice you’re giving when you’re not even there! And not once did anyone instruct me to up-sell customers on microwave popcorn.

It’s always nice not to be treated like an automaton and have to treat others like robots. Which reminds me… after I moved to Toronto and got my Ontario phone number, I started receiving automated calls, at least a couple per week, from Blockbuster, telling me that my DVD rentals were overdue. This was amusing because I didn’t even have a Blockbuster membership. Soon it got annoying so I called the store and explained the situation; the person on the phone apologized and said they’d take care of it. They didn’t, and the calls kept coming. So I phoned again and talked to a manager who promised that it would be taken care of immediately. Surprise – the calls kept on coming. After a couple more unsuccessful complaints, I learned to ignore the number when I saw it on my phone. But, four years after moving here, I still regularly get calls from the Blockbuster-bot telling me my imaginary films are late.

But not all video robots are bad. For example, the robot mascot for Big Daddy’s DVD shop in my neighbourhood is a welcome sight. This store rules thanks to knowledgeable, friendly staff, great sections (including directors, foreign divided up country, Criterion and one of the best documentary sections I’ve ever seen) and not a pair of khaki pants in sight. This is the kind of neighbourhood DVD store that every neighbourhood deserves.

So, I decided to ask owner J.R. Grassby (pictured) about independent video stores, to get the perspective of someone who opened a DVD when it seemed like all the little guys had died out. Here’s part one of what he had to say.

 

 

Fill me in on what you do when not running Big Daddy’s, and on your history as a movie rental house owner.

 

I first had an interest in video shops in Vancouver. My friend Darren Gay and I thought about what was needed in the neighbourhood we lived in Vancouver and both immediately thought of a video store. Darren and I both had a passion for movies, and Darren had a real sense of entrepreneurial-ism and went ahead and opened the first of three Black Dog Video stores. I worked for Darren on and off for about three years. I have had many jobs and many interests, but working in an independent video store in a great community was one of the funnest and least like “work” jobs I have had.

 

So after working several years in Toronto as a Prop Master and seeing a slow down in productions  being filmed in Toronto I decided to re ignite that video store flame and in 2005 I opened Big Daddy's DVD Shop in the greatest neighbourhood in Canada, The Junction. 

 

 

Some people would think you were crazy to open an indie video store in a neighbourhood with an established Blockbuster in it – so why’d you do it?

 

If I had to do it all over again and re-open, I would have opened up right next to the Blockbuster video store in our neighbourhood instead of two blocks away. The reason being that people have a destination in mind, they are driving walking or riding their bikes for a service. Once at their destination if given an alternative choice with different service and product the consumer would have better choice and would frequent that area more.

 

How would you describe the typical Big Daddy’s customer? Who are you trying to appeal to?

 

My clientele is really a mixed bag of people, from corporate families to single artists. I think the reason people come to Big Daddy's is for the quality and diversity of the films but also for the service. I have film-educated staff, and I have staff that are just getting into watching films, but we are all unique, pleasant and somewhat informative. And if we don't like a particular film, and we like you, we will tell you straight up that it sucks and to spend your money on another title. I carry a great documentary section and a pretty good foreign film section on top of the usual genres that people seek out. I think the Big Daddy's customers for the most part are seeking out something different from the large corporate "new release" policy-driven stores. I also think that a large percentage of my client base like to keep their money in the community they live in and not send it to a multi-national, foreign-owned, deeply conservative company.

 

Why are indie video stores important – why not a world where Blockbuster controls the rental market?

 

I think the same rational applies to all retail companies: people like to have an option. Blockbuster, Rogers Jumbo Video all filled a void for new communities twenty years ago. A lot of overnight suburban towns and cities had no video stores, so these giant companies came in set up and opened movie theatre lobby-esque large video stores with big TV's and the smell of popcorn and lots of movie choices. But as the demand for larger profits grew from shareholders, the need to stock every movie available lessened and they became more expensive to purchase than new releases with the advent of the DVD. So as a result Blockbuster as the number one purchaser of movies from the major distribution and production companies bullied its way into a profit-share scenario, thus no longer buying the movies but sharing the revenues with the above mentioned. They provide thousands of movies the distribution companies want to flog on the market. As a result of this, the consumer gets a tremendously watered down version of the services they used to receive, and competing video stores that have to buy their stock can no longer compete on this level. That's where a well-placed, diversified video store or any store battling the big guys can come in and make a little niche market for themselves. Provide a better or more unique product and friendly informed service and you can compete. I just wish people new how important, on a global basis, it is to keep your money in the community you live in. Cheaper is often more expensive on a global basis.

 

 Next installment: Blockbusted Part 3: Live to Rent Another Day

-Dave Alexander

Hellbent for Red Leather

[We’ll return to the oh-so popular "Blockbusted" posts shortly, but in the meantime, something a little more lighthearted…]

 

If you were a kid in the ‘80s, the man in red leather was a rite of passage. Older kids at school would mimic him, you’d see him grinning at you from the box at the video store, and you knew that your mom would kill you if you watched his strictly “Over 18” routine. Naturally, you’d do anything you could to get your hands on Eddie Murphy – Delirious.

Maybe you’d muster up the courage to rent it from one of the permissive corner stores with a video selection, or be lucky enough to have a friend with an irresponsible older brother – whatever you had to do, you needed to see this comedian who said things that no one else dared to. And when you finally saw it, Delirious didn’t disappoint – that was the best thing about it. For 70 minutes Eddie Murphy said the F-word more times than you’d ever heard in your life, covered the bases of body humour from Elvis farts to the oft-imitated gay sex with Mr. T bit, and blew your mind with bits that were racially- and sexually-(over)charged. He sang, danced around, imitated the likes of James Brown, Ralph Cramden, Michael Jackson, Ricky Ricardo and – most hilariously – his family members (the drunk dad telling everyone off segment is still gold). And after watching it, you couldn’t stop singing “I got some iiiiiice creammmm!” or yelling “gooney goo-goo.” You were either cool and you knew the “gooney goo-goo” reference, and could trade impersonations with others in-the-know, or you were still, like, just a kid.

In honour of the 25^th anniversary of the HBO special, Anchor Bay has released a special two-disc edition of Delirious. But does it hold up? For the most part Delirious still kills, mostly because the pop-culture references take a backseat to the timeless personal stories – who doesn’t have an aunt with a moustache? Some of the content is even funnier with the passage of time, particularly the stuff about Michael Jackson not being the most masculine dude. But some of it hasn’t aged well at all; the “faggots” and AIDS jokes are both terribly dated and far from cool.

But this was a cocky 22-year-old on top of the world, trying to shock, and he did just that. Watching Delirious for the first time was like being taught how curse from a swear sensei. Later, when I discovered Richard Pryor’s stand-up, and even later when I listed to a George Carlin cassette for the first time, the influence for Murphy’s foul-mouth mastery became apparent.

A bigger influence, however, is Bill Cosby. I grew up with hand-me-down G-rated Bill Cosby records (I still love the Sultan of Bad Sweaters), so I recognized the style of family stories material right away in Delirious (of course, The Cos’ never did a routine about having a G.I Joe figure lodged in your butt…), where observations about mom being all-knowing and dad being a total snap-case were very familiar.

Murphy talks about the influence of Pryor, Cosby and Carlin in a half-hour-long interview on the bonus disc of the 25^th anniversary Delirious set. He also reminisces about that infamous red leather suit, being picketed for the content of his act, and he discusses if he’ll ever return to stand-up (the answer is a resounding “kinda, maybe some day”). It’s a fluffy piece, but still somewhat insightful. In addition to this there’s an equally fluffy documentary about Delirious and two deleted scenes, which don’t amount to much. (This is one of those discs in which the bonus material could easily fit on a single DVD.)

You can still see glimpses of 22-year-old Eddie Murphy in mid-40s Eddie Murphy, but man, watching Delirious is just another reminder of how lame the guy’s career has become, making bad Disney comedies and voicing the annoying Shrek donkey (he quit doing stand-up when he was 26, after making the nearly equally infamous stand-up movie Raw). If razor-sharp red leather suit-era Eddie could see butter-knife-dull family-friendly Eddie, he’d definitely call “gooney goo-goo” on that shtick.

 

-Dave Alexander

Blockbusted Part One: The Business of Art

Blockbuster, the world’s largest movie rental chain has been in the news lately because it’s apparently on the verge of bankruptcy, and whenever I read about it, I hear in my head Nelson the Bully from The Simpsons, shouting “Haa-haa!” Of course it’s no laughing matter for the thousands of people who make a living through the company, but there is a sense of satisfaction for anyone who hates seeing film treated like fast food.

If you ever walked into one of the stores and wondered where the by-director section or the foreign film section was located; if you hate the idea of exclusivity deals where only one company has the right to rent a certain movie; if you ever had a clerk tell you he or she couldn’t find a movie called “Criterion” shortly before trying to sell you some candy; if you ever gazed at an entire wall of pan-and-scan Harrison Ford movies and understood that there was no god, then you know what other film geeks know: when it comes to film culture, Blockbuster sucks.

That doesn’t mean the people working there suck, of course. You can’t blame someone for not being a film expert but wanting a job – and some of them are genuine celluloid-sniffing film geeks too, but not everyone can work at the cool indie rental house (Blockbuster put most of them out of business!). Despite this, there are still good reasons to go to Blockbuster. I live about 100 metres from one, and while I don’t have a membership there, I do go in to troll the previously viewed sell-off bin. (Yesterday I scored a copy of Rocky Balboa for less than $4.00 – win!)

I also had the displeasure of working at Blockbuster, years ago in Edmonton. (Mercifully, the job lasted only a few months and then I got hired at an awesome indie store with a huge selection, knowledgeable employees and a genuine, to-the-bone love of film.) In retrospect, my stint at the ‘buster was completely hilarious in the way working at that level for any corporate gargantuan is bound to be. Upon being hired, I had to sign and initial this massive twenty-plus page contract, that, as I recall, had such stipulations as anything that I invented while working there was the company’s property (this is a standard type of clause, so that if you came up with a better filing system, for example, they would own it), and one that stated that I wasn’t allowed to work at another video store within a certain radius of that store, for a certain time period.

Then there was the uniform. You’d think a company like Blockbuster might provide its employees with uniforms, but no, they were too cheap. Instead, the manger told me to go to The Bay and choose from a certain type of khaki pants and a collared blue shirt. You needed two of each, you had to pay for them yourself and you’d never get reimbursed for them. So you get to spend your first few shifts just paying for your work clothes. Before long it was made clear that my most important function was to up-sell combos of Coke and microwave popcorn – that actually knowing about film was considered kind of a useful secondary feature. I think what irritated me the most, however, was the “family-friendly” nature of the place. Yeah, I get it, that’s where the money is, so why bother bringing in films that are only of interest to the non-family friendly market and rent censored versions of them? I recall recommending Dead Alive to someone who really liked The Evil Dead. I told them, “This New Zealand director, Peter Jackson, made this over-the-top splatter comedy that will blow your mind. He rented it and returned it frustrated and angry because he couldn’t understand the plot and there wasn’t much gore in it. Turns out, it was a heavily edited version that makes almost no sense because nearly a fifth of the original film is hacked away. I felt like a total jackass for recommending it. That’s when I knew I wouldn’t last...

At least I wasn’t there long enough to join the ranks of the don’t-give-a-craps, though. I remember one of the managers looked at me one day and said, “You know what the best part of this job is?”

“What?” I answered, expecting something philosophical, or least perhaps a decent job perk I hadn’t yet been privy too.

“This!” he answered before picking up the phone receiver beside his computer and rubbing the earpiece on the screen. “See, the magnet inside makes the screen all swirly!”

He was right, it did make the screen go all swirly, and, yes, it was pretty cool. And that is my fondest Blockbuster memory.

I know that not all Blockbusters are run the same, and that things have probably changed since I was an employee, but that’s my personal soul-souring experience with the company, and one of several reasons I won’t be crying into my DVD remote if the retailer can’t pay its own late fees.

 

Next installment: Blockbusted Part 2: The Fall and Rise of the Little Guys?

 

[Blockbuster photo taken by Matt]

-Dave Alexander