Coming soon to home video…part 4: Why I still buy discs

Netflix has recently announced that nearly 2,000 movies titles were being removed from its streaming library.  We won’t know the extent of the damage until we conduct a queue count.  I did a spot-check and noticed that the classic Star Trek episodes remained intact.  In fact, I noticed some new additions, such as 1996’s Big Night whose video rights were, somehow, reacquired.  But many of the Warner Bros. classics were gone — seemingly forever so the studio can trumpet their own competing streaming service. 

Despite Netflix’s recent PR worries — decried price hikes and slimming movie library — it remains one of the best deals in entertainment.  For $7 a month, you’re guaranteed enough movies and television to run for an entire month (nay, an entire LIFESPAN) without interruption or repeats.

This seemingly perfect viewing option has its caveats.  You’ll never have access to everything that was recorded on celluloid (or digital).  You can never own any of it.  That’s where I fall back on discs.

Before the magical movies fairies sent movies directly into my television, I grew up with VHS.  Throughout the 80s and 90s, I accumulated enough titles to build a small house (during an evening of immense boredom, I constructed a cabin).  In the 2000s, I switched to DVDs and never looked back.  (Once again, I amassed enough to built a spare bedroom).  This decade, I’ve obsessed over blu-rays.  Although the newest format ultimately triumphed over HD-DVD (remember those?), the latest physical media has had a steep climb against the streaming craze.

Streaming, unlike VHS, DVD, blu-ray, remains a rental service.  We don’t own any of the films or shows.  Services like Netflix, Hulu, Pandora, Crackle, Vudu, and HBO Go provide our entertainment at a convenience.  But most, if not all of the content is subject to licenses and, as Netflix demonstrated, are subject to losing it. We’re merely borrowing. 

With physical media, we never have to worry about our cherished films disappearing and, possibly,  reappearing.  Once it sits in our libraries, it’s there forever. 

The beauty of blu-rays is they’re resilient, as opposed to VHS, which deteriorated with each playback and DVD, which was prone to scratching.  Each blu-ray disc is coated with a strong protective plastic layer that has been tested against steel wheel — although I dare not test it myself.  I can fling one across the house!  I even use Godfather Part III as a coaster because…why not?  These plastic circles will outlast me.  Certainly, there will be newer formats, but the countless blu-rays that sit on my shelf are, in fact, mine.  Despite any hiccups in internet speed and licensing agreements, I shall not be moved.   Blu-rays are forever.

The benefits with streaming services is they’re fast and easy.  A few clicks on the remote can deliver a film much faster than a blu-ray.  The detriment to physical media is that studios’ insist on subjugating us to previews and countless studios logos that cannot be skipped.  Studios do themselves a disservice by making blu-rays more cumbersome and laborious.  Hollywood is desperate to keep the home video market whole.  So why make the blu-rays less appealing with unwanted ads and logos?  I gather I’ll see the logo at the start of the film.  Besides, who remembers the studios anyway?

Netflix and other services remain a haven for our curiosities.  This new frontier comes at a price where we depend on services to maintain licenses and agreements for the span in which we wish to revisit our cherished movies.  But streaming only allows to sample films or bask in a one-course meal.  Home video remains a diet that repeatedly satisifies an appetite in a seemingly virtual world.  I don’t believe in owning art, but I do believe in owning the freedom to access such art at my disposal.  Like the best of films, I’ll cherish my discs as long as I will cherish the art of film — or until the next technology surfaces.