Chris Rose, a Los Angeles-based writer, director, and producer, fondly recalls his time working at the independent video store I Luv Video in Austin, Texas. He describes it as a “spectacular kind of hip, indie video store that had just about any and every film you could ever want,” including rare British and Japanese imports. This experience profoundly shaped his appreciation for film and instilled in him a love for discovering unique and eclectic cinematic offerings.
While he can no longer visit I Luv Video, Rose has recreated a similar experience in the most unexpected of places: the kitchen of his Silver Lake bungalow. His “Kitchen Video,” as he playfully calls it, is a microcosm of a classic video store, featuring over 20 shelves meticulously stocked with dozens of VHS tapes. A bold red sign above the shelves announces the space’s dual function, a quirky blend of domesticity and cinematic exploration.
Inspired by the casual movie viewings during his time at I Luv Video, where “bad Stephen King movies” played in the background, Rose utilizes the otherwise “weird dead zone” next to his kitchen to house his collection. He plays movies softly while he works at his kitchen table, transforming the space into a cozy, personal cinema.
The curation of his Kitchen Video is a testament to Rose’s unique taste and sense of humor. Each month brings a new, hand-picked thematic category, reflecting his current cinematic interests. The current selection is cyberpunk, aptly titled “the internet is scary,” featuring titles like “The Net,” “Fear Dot Com,” and “Johnny Mnemonic.” The sheer absurdity of a movie titled “Fear Dot Com” perfectly encapsulates Rose’s playful approach to film selection.
Among his most beloved categories is “Comedies with White Backgrounds,” a quirky collection including “There’s Something About Mary,” “The Three Amigos,” and “Kung Fu Hustle.” This category, presented with a self-deprecating chuckle, highlights Rose’s ability to find humor and unexpected connections in even the most commonplace films.
Other themed selections showcase Rose’s diverse cinematic tastes. “Burning Hearts” features “messed-up romance movies” such as “Basic Instinct,” “Moonstruck,” and “Wild at Heart.” His personal “Criterion Collection” of ironically poorly reviewed yet personally enjoyed films includes “Con Air,” “Face/Off,” and “Point Break.” The “Film School” category features classic films often shown in film school, like “Harold and Maude,” “The Last Picture Show,” and “Chinatown.” Finally, “From Ship to Shore” attempts the ambitious, albeit challenging, feat of creating a thematic connection between films, ultimately resulting in a humorous and somewhat obtuse selection.
As a Texas native, Rose couldn’t resist dedicating a shelf above his kitchen door to Texas classics such as “Friday Night Lights,” “Clerks,” “Dazed and Confused,” “Paris, Texas,” and “Tender Mercies.” This homage to his roots adds a personal touch to his collection, highlighting the importance of regional cinema in his personal narrative.
Despite its personal nature, Rose’s Kitchen Video is not entirely private. He invites friends to “check out” videos, even providing them with vintage VCR players to enjoy his selections at home. His enthusiasm extends to the creation of his own line of Kitchen Video merchandise, including hats, aprons, tote bags, and membership cards – a charming reminder of the bygone era of physical media rentals.
Beyond his Kitchen Video membership card, Rose cherishes his childhood Blockbuster card, a tangible link to his early cinematic explorations. He recalls how renting movies like “Rushmore,” “Raising Arizona,” and “The Graduate” at Blockbuster opened up a world of cinematic possibilities, especially given his upbringing in a small Texas town where access to diverse films was limited. This underlines the pivotal role physical video stores played in shaping his cinematic sensibilities.
Rose’s apartment reflects his distinctive style, which he describes as a blend of “Southwest Marfa vibe meets eclectic thrift store discoveries.” Vintage cowboy boots and felt hats adorn his bedroom, while portraits of Willie Nelson and Hank Williams, alongside paint-by-numbers artworks, a cow skull, and a Bennington flag found in a Santa Fe antique store, decorate his living room. Even a coffee table crafted from the wreckage of Hurricane Sandy stands as a testament to his unique approach to interior design.
His eclectic collection extends beyond VHS tapes. He has recently begun collecting audio cassettes, which he plays on a vintage boombox, emphasizing his appreciation for the tangible experience of analog technology. He acknowledges the nostalgic appeal of physical media, contrasting it with the convenience of digital streaming services like Netflix and Spotify. The act of physically engaging with the media adds a layer of depth and fulfillment, he observes.
Among his most treasured possessions is an illuminated globe that belonged to his grandfather, an item he would rescue first in the event of a fire. This speaks volumes about his sentimental attachment to his heritage and the lasting impact of family on his life.
Rose’s approach to film collecting is equally thoughtful and selective. He only invests in films that resonate deeply with him, movies he intends to revisit and cherish. He actively seeks out rare finds online and at local stores like Whammy in Echo Park, but it’s the serendipitous discoveries during his cross-country road trips that hold a particularly special place in his heart. These finds, often unearthed in Goodwill and thrift stores, represent the thrill of the unexpected, mirroring his experience with I Luv Video.
Film themes extend throughout his Silver Lake apartment, for which he pays $2,060 a month. In his living room, a Pop Art painting of David Byrne from “True Stories” and a print of Brandon Bird’s oil painting “No One Wants to Play Sega With Harrison Ford” further underscore his appreciation for film and its pervasive influence on his life.
Rose’s love for film extends beyond his personal collection. He regularly hosts outdoor movie nights in his backyard during the summer months, a welcome change from his decade spent in a New York studio apartment. He has even ingeniously figured out how to connect his VCR to a modern projector, further emphasizing his commitment to showcasing his collection.
His backyard screenings feature a mix of popular yet unexpected films. A recent screening included Doug Liman’s “Swingers,” filmed in Los Angeles, while an upcoming event will showcase Wes Anderson’s “Bottle Rocket.” This balanced approach ensures that there is something for everyone, even acknowledging the appeal of “spectacularly wild and bad” B-movies.
His recent acquisition of a VHS copy of ‘Repo Jake’, starring Dan Haggerty, exemplifies his ongoing pursuit of cinematic oddities. The film’s synopsis, promising “supersonic action involving a vicious crime lord, mob of angry car owners and a sadistic porno ring,” perfectly encapsulates the kind of delightfully bizarre films that fuel his passion. The anticipation of sharing this cinematic gem with his friends underscores the joy he finds in discovering movies so bad they’re good, further cementing the legacy of his personal Kitchen Video.