In 1998, the home video business was booming. DVD players were available, but VHS was still king—and more and more horror movies were becoming available on video every day. At a certain point, I started saving money for weekend trips to Suncoast Motion Picture Company, to buy movies that I just couldn’t find anywhere else. I remember picking up X: THE MAN WITH THE X-RAY EYES, THE WICKER MAN, DARK STAR, GOD TOLD ME TO…. a bunch of movies that had existed on home video for years, but hadn’t been available through my local video stores.
I was especially drawn to new releases from Anchor Bay Entertainment—beautifully restored, widescreen presentations packaged in pristine clamshell boxes. So far, I haven’t said anything yet about the tactile experience of the VHS era…. I guess I could simply say that it’s comparable to what book nerds say about turning pages. Those Anchor Bay clamshell boxes were a sight to be held.
Anyway, Anchor Bay was at that time delivering highly collectible versions of countless cult favorites: The Hammer Collection, The Lucio Fulci Collection, The Dario Argento Collection, Amando de Ossorio’s BLIND DEAD movies, Larry Cohen’s Q: THE WINGED SERPENT, David Cronenberg’s SHIVERS...
This was the beginning of the end for VHS. By 2000 or 2001, Anchor Bay stopped releasing movies on VHS; the format simply didn’t serve their devotion to quality or provide space for the bonus features they wanted to include. The writing was on the wall. I bought my first DVD player in the summer of 1999 (so I could watch the extended version of ALIENS)… but I still loved video stores. In fact, it was during this time (1999 – 2001) that I truly began to appreciate the video store experience.
While researching my book Nightmares in Red, White and Blue, I was constantly scouring new video stores for movies I hadn't found anywhere else. It was, in no uncertain terms, a treasure hunt. I acquired literally dozens of video store membership cards, for stores all across the state of Virginia. In a Charlottesville Blockbuster, I found ERASERHEAD, BLACK CHRISTMAS, and Mario Bava’s HATCHET FOR THE HONEYMOON.
In and around Harrisonburg, where I went to college, I became a fan of Frank Henenlotter. I think I had already seen BASKET CASE, but BRAIN DAMAGE blew my mind. I saw it sitting on a shelf right next to Adam Simon’s underrated BRAIN DEAD. I had to have them both.
I also found time-worn copies of Ulli Lommel’s BOOGEYMAN movies, Bava’s PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES and BEYOND THE DOOR 2, and THE TOWN THAT DREADED SUNDOWN. These films had lame cover art… but I didn’t need much convincing. By then, I had a checklist of films I was hoping to find.
At one video store in Harrisonburg, where VHS rentals were basically filler in a fireplace showroom (!), I found the original cut of Dario Argento’s PHENOMENA. I already owned the Anchor Bay release, but it was still exciting to see the original U.S. edit of the film—released as CREEPERS.
Probably the most exciting discovery from that time period was an oversized, heavily-battered box for a film that was, in my mind, an urban legend. I never really expected to see it, and so I felt like a scavenger who had struck gold when I finally did.
When I went to Virginia Beach during the summers, I continued my search. I vividly remember the day I ran across copies of SUSPIRIA and THE GATES OF HELL. The same store had copies of DEMONS 1 & 2, STAGE FRIGHT, TRAUMA, THE CHURCH, THE DEVIL’S DAUGHTER, SANTA SANGRE. If you haven’t figured it out already, I had a bit of an Italian Horror fetish around this time… so I loved this place. Did I mention EATEN ALIVE? ALLIGATOR? BURNT OFFERINGS? And, just when I thought you’d seen everything… STREET TRASH?
On another day, I found the old MGM horrors THE MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM and DOCTOR X at a Hollywood Video. These were, at the time, pretty obscure. I filled out a rental application just for those two rentals.
A nearby Blockbuster Video had a collection of early George Romero movies (SEASON OF THE WITCH, THE CRAZIES, MARTIN); another specialized in early DePalma (SISTERS, PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE, THE FURY) and Cronenberg (THE BROOD, SCANNERS).
Then there were one-offs: LET’S SCARE JESSICA TO DEATH, KINGDOM OF THE SPIDERS, PIRANHA, EYES OF A STRANGER. The list goes on and on and on… [Jessica, Kingdom, Piranha, Eyes]
I realize I have turned this supposed reflection on the Slashback Video exhibit into an excuse to compile images of VHS covers. Like those who contributed to Slashback, I have my own criteria for inclusion—I’ve focused on box art that made a significant emotional impact on me (and, in some cases, still does). These images remind me of a time when watching a movie at home was a bit more of an occasion. Sadly, my “collection” of VHS covers is no more an authentic experience than visiting Slashback Video—because the experience of viewing these images online is a digital experience.
A few years ago, I got so nostalgic for the real video store experience that I created an excuse to re-live it. I did the majority of my “research” for the 2016 book The Quick, The Dead and the Revived at Eddie Brandt’s Saturday Matinee, an honest-to-goodness video store in North Hollywood, with more than 90,000 VHS tapes on the shelves. Over a period of several years, I rented so many movies there that I actually killed my VCR.
What I found is that the thrill isn’t gone… even though the vast majority of video stores are. So if a virtual trip down memory lane doesn’t quite do it for you this Halloween season, may I suggest a trip to Eddie Brandt’s or some other survivor of the analog era?
As for me, I need to buy another VCR…. because somehow I know, this trip isn't over.
