My home video library is fairly extensive, but it isn’t huge. I try to be fairly discriminating about what I purchase; I don’t feel the need to own something I won’t watch again at least a couple of times. So while I may very well have enjoyed, say, Executive Decision (with Kurt Russell) as a professional and effective action/suspense movie, I don’t have any pressing need to see it again, and so I don’t consider buying it.
And I certainly wouldn’t buy a movie sight (screen?) unseen, not even a supposedly highly-regarded film. For example, I didn’t see Dancer in the Dark when it was in theaters. (I meant to, I really did, but I missed it, partly because it came out while the dot-com I was working for was melting down.) I finally did get to look at it a few days ago, and while I respect the craft, I think all the praise was seriously overblown; Von Trier isn’t saying anything with the film that wasn’t said decades ago with more finesse and subtlety by Jacques Demy in Umbrellas of Cherbourg. The point is, had I taken the acclaim at face value and purchased Dancer in the Dark instead of just taping it off Starz like I did, it would have been a wasted disc in my library, as I have no particular desire to see it again; I think I’ve gotten everything out of it there is to get.
I differ in this habit from a good friend of mine, whose library is probably five times the size of mine, but it’s got a bunch of filler, movies ranging from adequate to dross. I won’t provide a complete list of what I think is superfluous, because I don’t want to impugn anybody’s taste; that’s not what this thread is about. But seriously, does anybody really need to have Along Came a Spider on their shelf? I mean, really? But he accumulates these titles because he’s willing to take a chance on something he hasn’t seen. He’s maybe heard something good about it, or he knows an actor in it, so he buys it. Not rents, buys. I don’t know how else to explain the presence of Stepmom in his collection.
But a couple of days ago, I broke my own rule. I actually bought a movie on DVD that I hadn’t seen. Get ready to laugh at me, folks; the title of this movie: Say Anything. Yes, that’s right, I, the self-proclaimed movie geek, haven’t seen John Cusack’s quintessential romantic comedy, the debut feature from writer/director Cameron Crowe. (Laugh-a while you can, monkey-boy. I’ll wait.)
See, I was at Best Buy grabbing some Zip disks for my wife, and Say Anything was in the checkout-line impulse-buy rack, marked down to clearance. Hmmm, I said, picking it up. Deleted scenes. Alternate scenes. Commentary from Crowe and Cusack. Y’know, I bet I’ll really like this, I’ve been intending to for years, it’s a gap I feel bad about, and the features are surprisingly complete. Screw the rule, I’ll buy it.
Haven’t actually seen it yet; it’s been only a couple of days. So I don’t know if it was a good gamble. I assume it is, or I wouldn’t have done it.
But the point is, I never gamble, at least not on this. I don’t buy a movie unless I’ve seen it and know it’s an appropriate addition to my collection. I just used a birthday gift certificate to pick up three more DVDs, and what did I get? Movies I’ve seen and love, and that I want to see again. One of them is Never Cry Wolf, a film I’ve seen probably twenty times, and will happily watch at least that many times throughout my life.
And no, it’s not about sticking with the familiar. I’ll go see just about any movie in the cinema, within reason (no Britney in Crossroads, thank you very much). When I fill out my schedule for the Seattle film festival, I pick 20 must-sees, another 20 should-sees, and then I toss in a few random picks. Sometimes they suck, sure, but sometimes it’s a revelation, like Devils on the Doorstep, an obscure flick from China that turned out to be one of the best movies I saw all of last year. No, the only time I won’t take a chance on a flick is when I’m adding it to my permanent collection. Then it must be a known quantity.
Does this make me weird?