BY: JASON RAYNER
Yep. That's my actual movie collection. And a few books, too. Displayed PROUDLY.
Remember having a movie collection? Whether it be VHS (90s represent!), DVDs, or Blu Ray, there was a time when most people had a sizeable movie collection of films they not only owned but also displayed prominently in their living rooms. However, with the rise of Netflix and every other streaming service out there, collections stopped being added to, and much like CDs, DVDs and Blu-Rays are now seen as a marker of the past.
I, however am one of the few people who still proudly displays my personal library in my living room (see that photo - that's my collection!). And I have to be honest, I’m mourning (not a hyperbole, seriously) the days everyone had their collections proudly on display. Because looking at someone’s movie collection was not only an easy point of conversation on what kind of taste someone has. This is great for most social interactions, but was perhaps the most helpful of all for the toughest of social interactions, dating.
One of my favourite quotes ever comes from John Waters. He says, “If you go home with somebody, and they don’t have books, don’t fuck ‘em!”. Now, as someone who reads voraciously, but has a bank account that could be described at its kindest as slim, I don’t quite have the money for books and films. And since certain universities refer to film as the “literature of our time” (seriously), I’ve decided to extend this sentiment to film collections.
The standard film collection used to feature some key staples of the 90s - Titanic, Jurassic Park, and for most of the men that I dated (I can only speak of dating queer dudes), Mean Girls and The Devil Wears Prada (all of which have been in my collection at some time. I also want to take a moment to sidebar and reminisce about how my copy of Titanic was on a 2-tape VHS. Remember that? The movie was too long for one tape!). Scrolling through a collection would let me know if my future potential love of my life had depth - hopefully in between the staples there would be the odd indie like Before Sunset, or Lost in Translation, or an indie starring Nicole Kidman. This told me that while they liked things that were popular, they were also open to something a little different and artistic. Alternatively, if my date only had movies from the Criterion Collection I would worry about pretension. The outlier of Clueless or Sister Act in their collection was soothing because it meant that I was about to date someone who could also have some fun, even while being very serious about film as an artistic medium. If they owned a copy of Romy & Michele’s High School Reunion, I knew I had hit the jackpot because I was understood on a fundamental level.
Film collections, just like a music or book collection, say something about how we like to spend our time. They also give an insight on interests - someone with a wide range of Holocaust documentaries is fairly likely to be a history buff, someone with tons of horror films probably loves an equal mix of camp and is a bit of a thrill seeker, and someone who owns a 30 Rock box set understands my sense of humour. Film collections are also almost always displayed proudly either by a TV or in the living room.
It’s also a great conversation starter without having to ask a series of questions. This is essential when starting to date someone because there is only ask so many “and where did you live before you came to Toronto?” style-conversation starters before it feels like an interrogation. Loving the same movie can tell you a lot about what makes someone laugh and their sense of humour, what shakes them to their emotional core, and yes, if they are smart and can handle films with challenging or subtle plots (I’ve definitely had my fair share of guys talk about the glamour of Breakfast at Tiffany’s only to realize that they probably haven’t seen it and only bought the DVD because of the iconic imagery from the film). I also loved the idea of discovery that can com through browsing a film collection. I love hearing someone enthusiastically boast about a film I may not have seen. If a potential lover tells me I absolutely must see The Tourist because it’s a beautiful love story, I’ll know that my idea of romance might not be in line with theirs (yes, this happened). If someone tells me that Best in Show is the funniest movie they’ve ever seen, I can fantasize our future together doing a Jennifer Coolidge/Jane Lynch couples costume for Halloween.
There were, of course, people who didn’t ever have movie collections. But I’m a film actor, film director, screenwriter, and film producer. Film is obviously a big deal to me. If you haven’t heard of Greta Gerwig we probably won’t have that much in common anyway.
Obviously you can’t (entirely) judge someone just by their film tastes. And just like music, we still are sharing art with others. In fact, we probably share more with people because everything is so much more accessible. But there was something about running through your hands of a DVD collection feeling like you were getting the sneakiest sneak peak at a part of someone’s personality without having to do too much prying. It also confirmed the general rule to avoid people who own copies of Boondock Saints.