April 20, 2020

As of this writing, like most of you, I’m entering week 4 of self-imposed isolation, and I have to admit, in the beginning I was pretty terrified.

I still am to an extent, as I grapple with multiple layers of various anxieties that strike at any time and any given day. The mere thought that this would be for the long haul, and the new norm was a scary prospect. And yet, I have found some solace in, believe it or not, physical media.

That may read as silly, but for most horror fans, we have that exclusive “collector” gene in our DNA that doesn’t really apply to die-hard fans of dramas or comedies. People that grew up on a steady diet of horror and love all-things genre seem to want to own their stuff, whether it be Blu-Rays or DVD’s, vinyl, magazines or books, collectible toys, etc. And then it hit me. Being surrounded by these things that have meant so much to us through-out the duration of our lives are there to make us feel safe; comfortable.

In the introduction to the excellent book VHS VIDEO COVER ART by Todd Hodges, the author goes on to explain (and I’m paraphrasing here) that there was a certain level of comfort to going to the video store. When you walked through those doors trying to decide what movies you’d be renting for that weekend, you were suddenly surrounded by other people’s art, literally. It didn’t matter if it was a million-dollar franchise or a low-budget locally-shot horror movie, both those tapes would sit side-by-side on a shelf, and both were vying for your attention. What would grab you was that VHS box art. It didn’t matter how much it cost to make the movie within that box. For you, the consumer, all that mattered was how that box art made you feel. What strange, unique, crazy world awaited you when you popped this particular title into your player?

It’s funny, because I also forgot the level of disappointment that some of those killer box covers came with when they didn’t exactly deliver on whatever the bonkers images on the back cover promised. Recently, I went over to my buddy Josh Miller’s place. (Host of the Best Movies Never Made podcast, and co-writer of Sonic The Hedgehog) We’ve watched a lot of questionable movies over the years, but for this particular movie night, we both brought some rare VHS tapes from our personal collections, dumped them all on his couch, and scanned the box covers until we landed on the movie of the night. Our first pick was THE BEAST IN THE CELLAR, solely based on the fact that it had this amazing DAY OF THE DEAD-esque rotting zombie on the cover. After about 15 minutes, we realized we’d been duped and were watching two proper British actresses spouting a lot of dialogue at a dining room table and that zombie wasn’t going to emerge from the basement. We managed to salvage the night (kind of?) with Tobe Hooper’s NIGHT TERRORS starring Robert Englund which… was at least wacky.

Point being, I forgot that feeling of taking a gamble on something based solely on the art of it.

Which brings me back to our humble collections. These shrines we’ve built in our own residences, they are there because, whether subliminally or not, we are trying to recreate that awe of being surrounded by other people’s art; when we walked into a video store on a Friday night, or skimmed the bins at our local record store, or flipped through magazines on a shelf.

I realize that the reason I have such an extensive collection of movies is that it brings me comfort just knowing they are there. I am literally surrounded by this art that brought me so much joy during various times in my life, regardless of if I plan to watch them all tonight or not. I can look to the right of my couch and know that all the HALLOWEEN movies are there, right next to a handful of Hammer Horror titles and every movie and episode in the HANNIBAL series. If I wanted, tonight I could join Dolph Lundgren and Brian Benben on their quest to fight off an alien drug dealer in I COME IN PEACE. The Universal Monster movies, Romero’s DEAD films, all of John Carpenter or Wes Craven’s filmography, the wild cinematic worlds of Stuart Gordon or Dario Argento; they’re all there. For a while, I owned Arrow’s release of CHUD, but not the Vestron Blu of CHUD II. It was like an itch I couldn’t reach, knowing that sequel was missing for its rightful spot on my shelf, so I bought freakin’ CHUD II.

And music? I love music. I often will write while listening to a horror score, like Riz Orthoani’s CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST, which I’m listening to right now. Sometimes, the music of a film is enough to put you in a head space of comfort. I’m not a huge collector of action figures, but I have all the original McFarlane “Movie Maniacs,” both sealed in their original packaging and open versions, and for someone that grew up in a time period where an action figure of a horror icon seemed highly improbable, there’s something fun about feeling like I have them all hanging on my wall, frozen in carbonite like Han Solo!

Surrounding ourselves with these physical things matter. Especially now when we’re stuck in the middle of a global pandemic! I mean, I have so many movies and books I have yet to watch or read in my collection. Someone on Twitter commented they didn’t “get” why I’d buy movies I’ve never seen. It’s the same as buying books for your home library. You hear or read up on things that you think might bring you some entertainment and you pick them up and save them for later. I love having movies and books I have yet to experience in my surroundings. Who knows how many more weeks or months this whole thing is going to last? And as FANGORIA’s CEO Dallas Sonnier joked with me, he said, “you can begin watching your movie collection starting from ‘A’ and you’d never make it through the whole thing.” He’s right, of course. But now is my time to try!