Blockbuster Checks Out, Memories Return

OPINION EDITOR

On Nov. 7, Blockbuster tweeted  “The last day to rent a movie from a Blockbuster store is this Saturday, Nov 9.  What will your last rental be? #BlockbusterMemories.” After reading the tweet, I thought about participating for support and sentimental reasons. Then I realized I have no idea where my nearest Blockbuster is (my neighborhood location closed two summers ago) and, more importantly, I was trying to finish “Sherlock,” an outstanding BBC series on Netflix.

In order to make up for being a user of streaming services and thus a reason for Blockbuster’s collapse, reminiscing about my days as a Blockbuster consumer seems appropriate, if not necessary with the reason being that Blockbuster’s days are officially numbered. In an announcement by DISH, which purchased Blockbuster Inc. in 2011, the company disclosed that the remaining 300 locations will be shut down within the next two years.  The end to Blockbuster’s locations is the result of many years of declining sales, largely at the mercy of video streaming services such as Netflix and Hulu, as well as delivery services such as RedBox. Blockbuster, for the most part, was sluggish in its response to its competitors and has since reaped the consequences of not keeping up with the demands of the market.

This final nail in Blockbuster’s coffin quietly places the store on my list of “one of those places I went as a kid,” which is terrifying given I am yet to turn 20 years old and I have never considered a visit to Blockbuster to be anything but ordinary. As a kid, I was not interested in the romanticized idea of American film: I still have not seen many of the films connoisseurs consider to be classic and must-sees. Even today, I often fail to pick up on movie references unless it is from The Sandlot, Anger Management or Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. However, I made a trip to Blockbuster nearly every Friday in a sort of end-of-the-week and beginning-of-the-weekend ritual.

Like most pre-teens in the early 2000s, I was not on a quest for the optimal DVD rental experience. I was not visiting Blockbuster as a movie-rental critic or a film buff. I never considered planning my return visits on my store’s expected shipments and I was not in the vetting process in hopes of finding a diamond-in-the-rough rental store. I was an active renter, but not a conscientious one. Needless to say, I was completely oblivious to how awful Blockbuster’s consumer experience was.

Blockbuster was on the same level of organization as an H&M store after a 50 percent sale. DVDs, video games and VHS tapes were spewed across shelves with slimmer chance of being in alphabetical order than a group of first graders. After an employee promised that there was one more copy in stock, finding Big Fat Liar consequently turned into a frantic scavenger hunt.

I was forced to search the store’s alphabetically divided sections, which required sifting through every movie beginning with letters A through D until I could find the last copy of Frankie Muniz’s masterpiece among the mess. The simplicity of online searches and clicking options renders this dilemma obsolete, and so the ordeal seems time-consuming and unnecessary in 2013.

I wish I knew how many times a DVD rental would be scratched or nicked on its face, causing it to freeze up in the middle of play. I had no choice but to assume that some twisted individual found enjoyment in ruining these DVDs, returning them to Blockbuster and neglecting to inform an employee fear of being charged for damage fees.

This would result in my returning home only to find I had paid for a copy of Spy Kids that ends when Carmen and Juni learn their parents are spies. Meanwhile, the chances of finding a corrupt file on Netflix or HBO GO today are nearly zero thanks to the careful protection of online servers that prevent users from accessing the companies’ digital product.

It is almost painful to recall Blockbuster’s inconvenient late fees. Given that I was a kid with no source of income during my prime renting days, my parents were not willing to shell out money for additional fees each week because I did not get a chance to watch Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones within 48 hours. The quickness with which late-fees stacked up was all too familiar, and so I was often pressed for time if I wanted to be able to rent Revenge of the Sith the following weekend. Late fees have since quietly faded into obsolescence, when streaming on many services is unlimited.

We are no longer asked to pay up front in cash each week, instead we provide our credit card information and avoid the irritation completely.

While the above complaints highlight the disparity between the processes of 10 years ago and today, I have a creeping nostalgia for the trips to Blockbuster that consumed my childhood. Blockbuster undoubtedly holds a place in my heart as a place where life seemed so immediately rewarding. There is something romantic about being so oblivious to the complexities and nuances of customer experiences as a child. It was all too thrilling to walk into a store with a few dollars and walk out with a movie for a Friday night. The process which precluded watching these movies was half the excitement. This now-outdated process makes the stale process of scrolling and clicking seem oddly colorless, impassive and unadventurous.

I am not complaining about today’s options. I have the ability to spend under $10.00 a month and I can stream as many movies and television shows as I want. But, it is unfortunate that my children will never be able to have a renting experience at Blockbuster. They will never have the opportunity to head to Blockbuster, find what they are looking for and triumphantly return home with a real DVD.

They will never know what it is like to forage through a pile of casings to find  The Goonies waiting at the bottom and carry it to the counter like it was a hard-fought trophy. And, most importantly, they will never learn that life is not as accommodating, as perfect and as seamless as technology tells us it can be.

Joseph Vitale, FCRH ’16, is an English and political science double major from Staten Island, N.Y.