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Dec 12, 2024 Web Exclusive By Mollie Hawkins Photography by MVD

A cursed VHS tape, a skeptical woman, and a devoted shop owner get locked in a video store together…nothing can go wrong, right? Nah, everything goes wrong in The Last Video Store, Cody Kennedy’s and Tim Rutherford’s 2023 directiroal debut.

Nyla (Yaayaa Adams) is the daughter of Blaster Video’s best (and only) customer, and after his death, she becomes responsible for returning his overdue movies. She doesn’t care about movies, much to the horror of Blaster Video’s owner, Kevin (Kevin Martin, real-life video store owner). Kevin is a human Pez dispenser of film facts, and is all too eager to throw down some knowledge on Nyla. She hands him a grim-looking VHS that even he’s never heard of, and of course he excitedly pops it into the shop system, releasing a curse that sends B-movie villains into the video store—and they are all out for blood.

What follows is a wildly entertaining ride for anyone who has ever spent time in an independent video store, roaming the horror section, and then getting a little too jumpy in their living room when the psycho killer surprise attacks the hockey star. Aside from the introduction, the entire film takes place inside the video store; you can practically smell the popcorn smashed into the carpet (would we want it any other way?). CGI monsters, masked killers, pumped-up ‘80s heroes, and 30-year-olds playing teenagers, all Jumanji their way into the real world for Kevin and Nyla to deal with single handedly.

The visual effects here are precisely what you’d expect from an indie film about indie films—which is another of its charms. All its gore and cheap props serve as layered jokes about the films that are literally trying to kill them. In moments of high tension, Kevin cracks a beer and parses out pithy nuggets like, “The only weapon that matters is the power of friendship,” giving The Last Video Store a comical edge that is both self-aware and at times, heartbreaking in its sincerity.

The Last Video Store is, above all, a film about nostalgia. In one of the film’s bonus material essays, film critic Martyn Pedlar discusses the time capsule and magic that is the bygone era of video stores like Blaster Video. These stores allowed customers to curate their own personal film festivals, fostering a willingness to sit through goofy or otherwise tedious plots. After all, there was no skip button to jump to the next film served up by a robotic algorithm. Physical media was king, and the beauty of the VHS era is that watching these tapes now feels like time travel. The Last Video Store nods to this idea, suggesting that those comforts are always there for us, that much like the masked slasher, “they always come back.” It is us that changes.

Arrow Video has crafted a fantastic edition of this film festival darling, a cinematic adventure that beautifully (or gore-ishly?) captures the nostalgia for cheesy horror movies and the people who love them. With a tagline like “A love letter to video stores and the B-movie treasures that lined their walls,” the disc delivers on its promise with bonus features galore, including early short films that evolved into the feature, a visual essay by Martyn Pedlar, behind-the-scenes footage, and audio commentary by film critics Matt Donato and Meagan Navarro. As Pedlar aptly puts it, “Nostalgia doesn’t care if something is good or bad. All it wants is for you to remember.” Like the best (or worst) of cheap movie gore and makeup, this film is guaranteed to stick with you.

(www.arrowvideo.com/blu-ray/the-last-video-store-limited-edition-blu-ray)