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Archive for the ‘Movie Mania’ Category

A truly beautiful film.

You can take the man out of Videoville, but you can’t entirely take Videoville out of the man.

Come the Christmas holidays of 2026, it’ll be 20 years since I left the best job I ever had, putting a cap on 12+ years of being paid to eat Reese’s Pieces and annoy customers with my burning belief they should be watching more weird-ass foreign films.

While video stores aren’t a thing anymore, and good luck finding anyone under 30 who evens remembers them at this point, my lifelong obsession with watching films continues to burn.

Some years I document everything I’ve seen from Jan. 1 to Dec. 31 — in 2023, for example, I hit 600, counting feature-length films and shorts — and others I don’t.

The year which recently wrapped up was one of those in which I didn’t keep a nice, handy list for myself on Lettrboxed, which I now regret as I make a late U-turn to ramble on about my favorite films from the year.

So, this won’t be a complete breakdown, though, as always, I continued to search out down ‘n dirty ’70s movies I have yet to see.

Shoutout to Tubi, the best free-if-you’re-fine-with-some-ads streaming site, as it recreates the experience of an old-school video store full of dust-covered VHS boxes with lurid artwork beckoning you to come closer.

I finally marked off “King of Marvin Gardens” with repressed radio talk show host Jack Nicholson uneasily coexisting with his back-slapping con man brother, Bruce Dern, then followed that up by accidentally discovering the drenched-in-sleaze “Hollywood 90028.

You might need some antibiotics after viewing this tale of a cameraman as he embraces the serial killer within, complete with a sense-shattering WTF finale which punches you in the face, but I’ll take that over “Avatar 17: Electric Boogaloo FernGully” any day.

Anyways, since I don’t have a complete list of my year in film — but will next year! — this list will focus on films released in 2025, which I also saw in 2025.

While there were a lot of mediocre films released, and some absolute stinkers like “Megan 2.0,” “Love Hurts,” “I Know What You Did Last Summer (2025),” “Osiris,” and “Him,” the worst movie of the year was “Fixed,” a laugh-free “adult” animated film which should have been taken out back behind the barn and put out of its misery.

Burn the negative.

But on to stuff I enjoyed!

 

20 (tie) — “The Home,”Final Destination Bloodlines,” “Heart Eyes,” “Clown in a Cornfield,” and “Weapons”

Yes, we’re cheating right from the start, with a wild mishmash of gore-soaked flicks.

Final Destination” reinvigorated the franchise, while “Heart” and “Clown” paid campy tribute to my beloved ’80s slasher flicks.

Weapons” got all the box office and awards buzz, and the finale is appropriately bonkers, but where was the love for “The Home,” a something-is-seriously-wrong-at-the-rest-home schlock-fest which ends with an even-more WTF finale?

I’m not saying it’s a great movie, but if you’re not entertained by Pete Davidson opening a can of whup-ass on senior citizen cult members, can you even still feel anything?

 

19 — “The Day the Earth Blew Up”

Porky Pig and Daffy Duck vs. aliens. Pure bliss.

Legendary.

 

18 — “Friendship”

Deeply uncomfortable “comedy” about a dude who cannot read the room, ever, but is obsessed with being friends with his neighbor, a local TV weather guy. Psyche-scarring shenanigans ensue.

 

17 — “Eddington” 

The pandemic fractures an already messed-up town in New Mexico, and that’s before Joaquin Phoenix totally loses his mind. A dark comedy painted pitch black.

 

16 — “Dangerous Animals”

A boat captain with some serious issues feeds his clients to the local sharks, until one tougher-than-she-looks surfer fights back, tooth and nail. Let the bodies hit the (ocean) floor.

 

15 — “Sew Torn” 

A small-town seamstress who’s not as meek as she seems. A dangerous drug lord. A missing briefcase. Nice lil’ Coen brothers-style crime flick with more than a few surprises awaiting us.

 

14 — “Companion”

Don’t piss off the robot. Seriously. Just don’t do it.

 

13 — “The Damned”

A doomed village in Iceland. A boat crashed on the rocks, with the survivors left to perish in the cold waters by the people trying to scrape a living out of the cold soil. Guilt will drive you mad, in a cold, cold movie best watched from under a pile of blankies.

 

12 — “Freaky Tales”

Welcome to Oakland, 1987. Things are about to get frickin’ weird. Bizarre anthology flick mixes kung fu, Nazi’s, basketball urban legend Sleepy Floyd, Tom Hanks(!), and rap music into a brain-exploding flick.

 

11 — “Magazine Dreams”

Imagine if “Taxi Driver” was about a Black bodybuilder, with the main character’s anger issues made more problematic by the real-life troubles of actor Jonathan Majors.

 

10 — “One Battle After Another”

The Oscar frontrunner (with great work by Sean Penn), and I’m fine with that, even if it’s not my personal favorite film by director Paul Thomas Anderson.

Honoring the dude who made “Boogie Nights,” “There Will Be Blood,” and “Hard Eight?” I’m down with that.

 

9 — “Sinners”

On the one hand, it’s just “From Dusk Till Dawn” for a new generation. On the other hand, the musical number with the vampires dancing outside the barn is a knock-out, and Ryan Coogler goes surprisingly deep with his fangs vs. racism story.

 

8 — “Saint Clare”

A teenage girl with voices in her head operates as a serial killer (with a code of ethics), before turning out to be her town’s best hope against some real degenerates. Stylish, low-key, and utterly disturbing. So, just my kind of thing.

 

7 — “Neighborhood Watch”

A mentally ill man (Jack Quaid) and his neighbor, a seriously grumpy former security guard (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), get in deep after the former witnesses (maybe) an abduction in broad daylight. The duo stay prickly until the end, with no fakey friendship developing, which is a nice touch.

 

6 — “Frankenstein”

It’s alive! Gorgeous, old school monster flick is a true treat for the eyeballs.

 

“You talkin’ to me?”

5 — “The Surfer”

Nicolas Cage makes a lot of movies, and by gum, the man never half-asses it, fully committing to each project. This tale of a man trying to reclaim the glory of his youth in Australia, while being driven literally crazy in the heat, is a great throwback to late ’60s/early ’70s cinema about deeply lost men.

 

4 — “Mickey 17”

Robert Pattinson dies (and dies some more) as an “expendable” in this darkly funny sci-fi satire.

 

3 — “Bugonia”

Bonkers tale of a deeply damaged man (Jesse Plemons) kidnapping the CEO of a major corporation (Emma Stone) in a bid to expose her secret life as a space alien bent on world domination. It’s a remake of the 2003 South Korean film “Save the Green Planet,” which I loved back in the Videoville days, but not a carbon copy.

 

2 — “Train Dreams” 

The most beautiful movie of the year, a haunting tale of a logger carving out a life among the trees of the Pacific Northwest while dealing with deep trauma.

 

1 — “Two People Exchanging Saliva”

It’s French. It’s shot in piercing black-and-white. It’s a 36-minute tale of a dystopian future where kissing is outlawed, you pay for things by getting slapped, and intimacy will get you put in a box and thrown off a cliff.

Literally.

It’s on the shortlist to be nominated for Best Live Action Short at this year’s Oscars, and we riot if it doesn’t make the cut.

Way back in 1993, when I was still writing movie columns for The Coupeville Examiner, I picked the Wallace and Gromit short, “The Wrong Trousers”, as the best film of its year.

“Two People” is similar in that it demonstrates a perfect film can be perfect at any length.

Sometimes you need three hours. Sometimes you don’t.

 

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Bryan and Carrie Stucky pose in their new business. (Photo property Oak Harbor Cinemas)

The business empire expands.

Oak Harbor City Councilman Bryan Stucky and his wife Carrie are the new owners of Oak Harbor Cinemas.

The duo, who own and operate Wallin-Stucky Funeral Home, acknowledged the move on social media Wednesday afternoon.

“After seeing the theater sit on the market for an extended period, we couldn’t help but worry about its future, especially with the possibility of it closing or falling into the hands of an off-Island investor,” the couple wrote on Facebook.

“After months of thoughtful conversations, we knew we had to step up to preserve this beloved community asset.”

The three-screen complex debuted on Barlow Street in the mid-’80s and was my home away from home for many years starting with the arrival of Tim Burton’s “Batman” in 1989 shortly after my family moved to Whidbey.

There was a substantial time period (decades even) where a seat in the back row of each of the three rooms perfectly contoured to my posterior — until the scourge of cell phone usage in otherwise-darkened theaters drove me to move my viewing hours to my duplex.

The Stucky’s, however, still believe in the power of communal cinema, and I wish them all the best.

“While streaming from home is convenient, there’s something truly special about experiencing a movie with family and friends on the big screen,” the couple said on Facebook.

“It’s an important part of what brings people together, and we’re committed to keeping that tradition alive.”

In introducing themselves as the new owners, the couple talked about plans for the future.

“We have some ideas in the works and are eager to collaborate with the fantastic staff to bring even more excitement to Oak Harbor Cinemas,” they said.

“Expect fun additions like expanded concessions, birthday parties, sensory friendly showings, video games on the big screen, and possibly some other surprises along the way.

“While this may help bring a little something new, we want to assure you that the heart of the theater will always remain the same: a welcoming space where everyone can gather and enjoy a great movie.”

The Stucky’s bought the theater from business partners John Solin and Michel Gahard, who took control of Oak Harbor Cinemas in 2019 after Far Away Entertainment pulled out, ending a 15-year run.

Solin was the original owner of the business.

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The last day of July was a good day for saving DVDs.

Can’t stop, won’t stop. This time I can save them all.

All things being equal, I’d rather be camped out at a video store than writing here on a sports blog.

Of course, video stores pretty much don’t exist anymore, and modern-day teens don’t even have a concept of what they were in the first place.

But I cling to the past, of days spent watching Bugsy Malone and eating Reese’s Pieces and somehow being paid to do so.

With the fuse relit by one basketball coach cleaning out the closet and sending DVD’s my way, I’m building Videoville 2.0 in a bedroom of my duplex.

From three films to making a run at 4,000 in a matter of months, I preserve a chunk of my past and once again marinate in the movie madness.

Some days it’s one or two. Yesterday, it was 83 DVD’s coming to their new (maybe) forever home on the shores of Penn Cove.

Three more Best Picture Oscar winners — Amadeus, Birdman, and Gandhi — the last two of eight Jesse Stone detective flicks starring Tom Selleck and his muscular mustache, two different versions of Sherlock Holmes battling The Hound of the Baskervilles, and Gregory Peck kickin’ unholy amounts of booty as The Chairman.

Plus, School House Rock!

Who gives that away to a thrift store and sleeps at night, I ask you??

So, in I swoop, basket in hand, ready to brain anyone foolish enough to try and get between me and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken or Hangin’ with the Homeboys.

While praying tomorrow will bring me another mystery box of DVDs courtesy someone embracing modern day life, streaming, and the allure of spring cleaning.

The Bad News Bears Go to Japan and Dudley Do-Right?

Eastwood pallin’ around with an orangutan and Schwarzenegger running wild through the futuristic world of … 2019?

The irrational dream lives on for another day.

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Preserving cinematic history, one DVD at a time.

I can be calm.

I can be rational.

I can be…

“Dear Sweet Lord! Is that Howard the Duck??!!!?!?”

Spoiler alert: It was.

Face it.

I may write about sports on a daily basis, but movies have almost always been my one true obsession.

Fifteen years of video store life, of being paid to watch films, and I’d still be doing it if the world hadn’t shifted around me.

Once we lived in a world where David got screening copies of movies every single day and enough free cinematic-related swag to choke a horse.

T-shirts for Apollo 13 and The Stupids! A River Wild bomber jacket!! Boxes of Forrest Gump chocolates!!!

And now, we inhabit the darkest timeline, where Walmart sells record players(!) in 2024(!!) to underage hipsters but has removed the $5 DVD bin from the middle of the store in Oak Harbor.

But we fight on!

I was sliding through life with just five DVDs in my duplex, watching streaming, and then, thanks to one generous CHS basketball coach, suddenly the door on my addiction was cracked back open.

Since I have to go zero MPH or 1,000 MPH — it’s just my way — bam, a couple of months later, I’m pushing 3,000 DVDs.

Which means when I drive Whidbey Island, I’m always scanning the side of the road for free bookcases now.

And haunting the thrift stores of three towns, always looking for that sweet, sweet hit.

An unopened nine-pack of Alfred Hitchcock films for a couple bucks??

A pristine set of ESPN’s 30 for 30 documentaries for what amount to spare change??

A two-disc anniversary edition of Forbidden Planet, with Leslie Nielsen in his straight guy prime, before he became the king of deadpan comedy with Airplane and The Naked Gun movies???

A dusty box of DVDs featuring fairly obscure Avant-garde films??

We have liftoff (and muted screaming inside my head as I try and stay calm on the outside).

My small home has become a refuge for these DVDs being rejected by the world at large — a forever home where they can come and have a water view of Penn Cove, not fearful of ending up in a landfill.

I’ve already had to decide that no, I don’t have the room to save VHS tapes.

Maybe if I had a warehouse, and not a duplex…

At some point I’ll probably have to be realistic and cut down to one copy of any particular title, and not do what I’m doing now, which is to preserve any DVD that comes my way.

I may love A Knight’s Tale with Heath Ledger rockin’ out in the world of jousting, but I don’t really need six copies of it.

But six different people have donated a copy to me, so, for now, sanctuary!

I’m being (semi) responsible here. No hoarding. No piles of DVDs on the floor.

It’s all on shelves, strictly alphabetized from Abba: Gold to Zoolander.

Whenever I add another title, be it a thrift store find, a garage sale rescue, or a donation from someone accepting it’s 2024 and the world has changed, it takes me back to my Videoville days.

The mystery of opening a box of donated DVDs from a Wolf Mom and finding … An American Werewolf in LondonThe Goonies … HOWARD THE FREAKIN’ DUCK!!!

The hunt in the wild, skulking in thrift shops and at garage sales and unearthing Support Your Local Gunfighter or Cry-Baby or Have Gun, Will Travel or The Last Starfighter!

There’s a vast world of DVDs out there.

Some are Chinatown or L.A. Confidential.

Some are … The Brady Bunch in the White House or Monster Mutt.

All deserve a safe haven in a world gone wild. The work goes on.

A small smidge of my revived obsession. So many DVDs still left to save…

 

Have DVDs (or a bookcase or two) you want to send on to David’s retirement home for movies? 165 Sherman in Coupeville is your destination.

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A little piece of history, it is.

“What’s the plan, Uncle David?”

“We’re going to have more movies than Scarecrow Video!”

“But I thought you said they had like 120,000 titles…”

“They do.”

“And you have?”

“1,310 DVD’s and one VHS. Not bad for someone who had like five DVDs a month ago.”

“I’m going to tell mom you’ve lost it…”

“I’m sure she already knows.”

“And what do you mean we??”

“It’s the royal we, my lad. And by we, I mean less talking by you, and more crawling down in that dusty bin at the back of the thrift store and looking for the DVD’s hiding down there.

“We will find “Song of the South! Some day!!”

“Great … Uncle David is going to have a section devoted to racist cartoons…”

“Exactly. That’s why we need those Tom and Jerry ones!”

As I alternate between entertaining my nephews and causing them to arch their eyebrows at me like they’re old money country club lifers and I’m Rodney Dangerfield storming the castle, my most-recent detour into embracing my video store past is going like gangbusters.

All it took was one basketball coach doing some spring cleaning and offering free DVDs and I’m right back at it, crafting a tribute to Videoville in my side room.

Five movies here, 200+ there, me trying not to scream like a little girl who found a pony under the Christmas tree when I discover a Criterion edition of the French film noir Le Corbeau for $1.00 at the thrift store.

Or when I go through a donation from a former Videoville customer and find … Jaws! Tommy Boy!! Indiana Jones!!! Cry Baby!!!!!

It’s a work in progress.

I have Lawrence of Arabia, but not On the Waterfront.

Have Chinatown, but not The Right Stuff.

Have The Fifth Element, and (somehow) the first five Resident Evil movies (viva Milla Jovovich and my autographed photo!) but not Blade Runner or The Last Starfighter.

Or Shock Treatment, The Apple, the ’70s version of Gone in 60 Seconds, Bugsy Malone, or Reefer Madness: The Movie Musical.

Yet.

But I do have Bottle Rocket, Memento, Spirited Away, both the Johnny Depp and the Angela Lansbury(!) editions of Sweeney Todd plus Riverdance, which is a direct touchstone to my Videoville days.

And, as you can see in the picture above, I just got The Matchmaker, one of those films which evokes an enduring memory from my time behind the movie counter.

It’s a great little romantic comedy, but the reason it takes me back is this — there’s a crusty old coot in the flick who, in deep Irish accent, is prone to saying “fuchin.”

When you pronounce it that way, it seems somehow … more genteel. And slightly acceptable for saying in the store, as we did for many months after the VHS of the film hit in ’97/’98.

“You got some fuchin’ late fees here.”

“Did you just cuss?”

“Not likely. Just working on my Irish accent, you fuchin’ bastard.”

Ah, memories.

Now I just need to find a DVD for Margaret’s Museum, a lovingly crafted tale of Helena Bonham Carter collecting bits ‘n pieces from all the deceased coal miners in her small town.

“She put what in the jars, now?????”

“Oh yes, exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s a beautifully done movie … you fuchin’ bastard.”

“Not your cup of tea? Well, can I interest you in some possibly racist Tom and Jerry cartoons??”

 

PS — If you’re spring cleaning and want to help me marinate in the past, I’m accepting any and all DVDs and giving them a home with a view of Penn Cove.

You can find me at a Coupeville baseball or softball game or drop ’em on my porch at 165 Sherman.

If I had a warehouse, I’d take your VHS. But I don’t have a warehouse, so, unless it’s something that can only be found on VHS like the one below, I probably have to pass.

While crying tears of regret…

David’s one current VHS tape.

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