The total count is 491; I can tell you which are where and if something is missing; The one’s currently being borrowed are, “The Raid”, “Step Brothers”, “Up”, “The Ten Commandments”, “Ben-Hur”, “The Orphanage” and the Roman Polanski classic, “Chinatown”; the amount of money spent ranges from anywhere between $5,000-$6,000 and growing. This is my movie collection. Some call it an obsession; I call it my prized possession.
I can’t remember when I started collecting DVD’s (although I can remember the Saturday Night Live compilations amongst the first), but I can remember when I started on the path to Blu-Ray, which now makes up 98 percent of “my lovelies.”
It was December 26 th, 2008 and I got a PS3 the day before—a day some of you history buffs know as Christmas. The frost was beginning to melt from the rapid change from snow to sun. It was beginning of something new, so my brother and I went out shopping and the first purchases I made were of the two “Kill Bill” movies, “Training Day” and the original “Spider-Man” trilogy. Everything after that is sort of a blur.
Over the years I’ve bought and sold a disgusting amount of films in order to achieve the perfect collection. The selection includes animated and bloody thrillers, action movies and musicals, esteemed classics and every Marvel movie. It is impossible not to find something to watch. The only issue is what to start with.
I pride myself on knowing that if you were to watch one a day you wouldn’t be done for a year and a half (not including what I buy between then), and that the used shelves at Hastings no longer hold any surprises for me. But others find it odd. They hide their obsessions inside and call them “guilty pleasures” and make sure they are “affordable.”
But not me. I wear mine like the sleeve tattoo I will never get. In fact, my collection is literally the first thing you see when entering my home. Nestled below my “Star Wars” and “Avengers” posters they greet me before my actual dog, wagging a symbolic tail. Newcomers usually have to take a seat to gather themselves.
And at one point in my life I did think about selling them all off and using the money for something nice, like a nice used car or just save it for my “future.” You know, get rid of them for the sake of normalcy. In fact I sold many and converted them to digital and actual made a few hundred dollars (only sold about 50). I have never regretted anything more. Looking at the gaps in “The Shelves” was like looking at a hole in my heart. Something precious was missing.
Sure I have copies of “Jaws” and “The Maltese Falcon” as…*gulp*…digital copies, but that can’t compare to the feeling of holding an eternal masterpiece in your hand. It’s like finding that one rare comic book or a vintage James Brown record.
But I can’t even count on two hands how many times I’ve been asked, “Why?” or, “Why don’t you sell them and just use Netflix?” To them I say this: “Has Netflix toppled kingdoms, governments and dictatorships? Have kings traveled seas to bow before Netflix? Have those same kings offered their sons and daughters in marriage to Netflix so they may form a political alliance with sheer power? No. Netflix is a pawn on my chessboard of life.” OK I don’t exactly say it, but the thought is just as good.
Who cares what I could buy with the money I could get selling them. Anything I bought would be garbage compared to my movies. Steal may car? Take it. Jack my 65-inch TV? I’ll hold the door open. But you even think about keeping “Boyhood” for longer than a month and I will chase you down like the gusts of a thousand winds. Liam Neeson would give up quicker than I would.
My movie collection is the physical embodiment of my soul. You ask me what I’m all about and I will point to that one golden corner. Everything you want to know about me, what I love, what my childhood was like and where I want to go is nestled on those shelves. That’s what an obsession is, and if you have one don’t let someone who doesn’t get it tell you otherwise.
Let those people be frugal as they hide in their house with their plain walls and empty house and they eat a jar of olives and watch “Frasier.” Never feel guilty for putting money into what you love over eating that day. Passions can die like THAT if they aren’t nurtured. I hear the human body can live for quite a bit without food.
So, I guess what I’m getting at here is that if you want to gaze upon “The Collection” as many have before you, be my guest. Hell, if I like you enough you can even borrow a few. It’s me sharing myself with people in the least creepy way I can think of. Everything that I am can be gawked at over three packed, glorious shelves.
But like my child that has yet to be born, if you think I won’t hunt you down after 30 days then you have yet to feel true terror biting at your heels. If Blockbuster hired me years ago no movie would’ve gone unreturned.
