Family Movie Night & Life
- Axe Daffodil
- Mar 3
- 7 min read
When it comes to entertaining yourself - or your family - within the confines of one’s home, the last three decades have been a roller coaster of denial, acceptance, and then more mother fuckin’ acceptance.
The “Video Home System” or simply “VHS” tape brought movies into our homes; the “Video Cassette Recorder” or simply the “VCR” bought road-rage-level anger into the home. Together these two pieces of indelible, cultural, technologies created a social construct within the nuclear family that would never die. It would evolve however; it would evolve into a bunch of fucking bullshit that still pisses people off - for various reasons - to this day.
With a quick drive to the local movie rental place, Dad and the family would select what would be the feature film of the family's "movie night". If it was an independent rental place, Dad would inevitably disappear behind the curtain in the corner of the store; an “Adults Only” sign carefully placed above the curtain. But Dad was smart. He wasn’t gone long. Just a quick assessment of the VHS jackets, and with his photograph memory, he rejoined the family.
To the checkout counter and the selection of some candy was next. The person behind the checkout counter was always either deplorable or uniquely charming - believing that they had stumbled on to a never-ending cash flow of late fees and overpriced refreshments and treats; they were blissfully unaware that their business would become obsolete within three decades.
The family returns home. Their movie not spots on the couch, recliner, and floor selected; the living room of Any House USA on movie night was adorned with blankets, pillows, and bowls of candy and cans of soda. Right after turning off a few lights, Dad makes his way to the VCR. He’s optimistic regardless of how many times he’s been here before.
With the oh-so-common sigh and mumble about his “achy knees,” Dad kneels down and begins to remove the movie rental from its movie rental jacket. Like usual, those “lazy bastards” were not “kind” - they “did not rewind.”
Dad begins to recite the same old lines, “that’s the problem with this fucking country, we can’t even rewind a mother fucking tape, make it a bit easier on the next person…”.
Mom cuts Dad off “Honey, could we not with the swearing in front of the kids again.”
“Fuck that, it’s every fucking time with this shit.” Dad continues.
“Goddam it [insert Dad name], I said watch your fucking language in front of the kids.” Mom shouts and points a finger at Dad as she stands-up from the couch.
Dad retreats, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
Mom sits back down. The children all look at each other with little smirks and giggles.
Dad returns his attention to the VCR, and inserts the tape; he presses the “Rewind” button. The tape rewinds. A slight screech echos from the VCR and across the living room landscape. Mom and the children silently say to themselves, “here we go.”
Dad, remembering Mom’s no-cursing demands, frustratingly exclaims, “this friggin, piece of crap, made in China piece of garbage…”. Dad continues to mutter something racist about the Chinese as he slaps the “Eject” button - about seven times - each time his rage growing with each press of the button.
The tape finally ejects from the VCR only to be sucked back in before Dad can grab it - the VCR malfunctioning due to the repeated commands from its angry overlord.
The tape ejects again, Dad grabs it - Dad then looses his shit completely - and revisits the lexicon of his previous outburst, “You made in China piece of fucking shit! I’m gonna stomp your commie ass into the fuckin’ mud.”
As Dad causes Mom to question her choices in life, the tape part of the tape follows the path of the tape in Dad’s hand; the tape’s innards stretching from VCR across the living room as Dad continues to slip into a maddening rage of curse words and insults.
Mom dismisses the children to their rooms.
The house is quiet for a few minutes; the children can hear a quiet discussion between Mom and Dad in the living room. After about ten minutes, Mom recalls the kids from their rooms.
Mom sits on the couch, Dad on the recliner. The movie plays on the TV screen. Nothing is said of the night’s events thus far. The children enjoy the movie; they eat their snacks and drink their soda. Mom and Dad are overly nice to one another. The movie ends and things in the living room are cleaned up a little bit. Mom puts one child to sleep in their bed; Dad does the same with the other child.
Morning comes, Dad awakes from his slumber - he fell asleep in the recliner after everyone had went to bed. Dad finds a note on the counter of the kitchen:
“I took the kids. I’m filing for divorce. Return the movie to the store today.”
Dad is not really surprised. He goes to the VCR and ejects the tape; it ejects perfectly. Dad reads the label on the top of the tape “Be Kind, Please Rewind.”
Dad says to himself “fuck that shit.”.
I often wonder how many families were destroyed by the VHS tape led-movie night; I wonder how many families could have been saved, had the “Digital Video Disc” or simply “DVD," appeared on the scene before VHS.
Sadly, we’ll never know.
But the DVD was not without its own cultural complications. For a decade, DVD and VHS competed for the American family’s dollar and for their loyalty.
The DVD and VHS divide created a new social structure within American society. In instances where family movie night was extended to extended family and friends, judgment began to be passed.
“You’re still running VHS? Why don’t you go DVD?” The non-nuclear family movie night guest would ask.
Ashamed, the Dad would respond with something like “I think the quality of the picture is better on VHS…” or some other bullshit; the man of the family would not admit that the cost of the DVD player could not be justified.
That’s until this non-nuclear family member snickered and laughed as Dad struggled with the inevitable VHS/VCR bullshit in front of all the movie night attendees.
As Dad continues to struggle, and looks over at his critic, “why don’t you go fuck yourself you mother fucker! Who the fuck invited you anyway? Get the fuck out of my house you prick.”
Mom stands and says “Movie night is cancelled.”
Guests begin to leave; the children put themselves to bed.
From under their bedsheets, the children hear Mom and Dad in the living room.
“The reconciliation is over - I’m moving forward with the divorce.” Mom shouts.
Dad replies “Good! I don’t need this shit!”
Mom reminds Dad “And bring that tape back tomorrow.”
Dad says “Fuck that. I’m gonna toss it off a fucking bridge. The account at the rental place is in your name. Good luck with the late fees after that you son-of-a-bitch.”
Dad leaves the house.
Mom goes to bed.
Eventually DVD won over America. Blue-Ray and a few other formats tried to get market share. They were unsuccessful. The American family movie night was forever changed; living rooms were encapsulated with shelves full of shiny - and often times - extensive and well organized DVD collections.
Gone were the days of the VHS vs DVD judgement; now movie night judgement was reserved for battles between the newest DVD releases and/or the scope or breadth of the DVD collection.
Dad attempts reintegration with the family by gifting Mom a few DVD classics like “Dances with Wolves,” and the “newly remastered” cinematic classic “Robin Hood, Men in Tights.”
Mom flings the DVDs back at Dad like an Olympic frisbee champion.
“Got money for DVDs, but not for your children you piece of shit?”
With time, brick and mortar movie rental places shut their doors; DVDs began to arrive by mail. And they could be returned by mail. And they didn’t need to be rewound; the laziest of Americans rejoiced.
Then shit really started to change - streaming movies through some tiny fucking wire, from some giant server somewhere, became a real thing. VHS was killed by DVD and DVD was subsequently killed by streaming.
Family movie night was again changed forever; family movie night was cancelled in many homes as family members streamed their own movie choice from their own devices, in their own areas of the house.
It’s been seven years since the family has seen Dad. One day, the doorbell rings. Mom opens the door - It’s Dad. He looks good - he’s lost weight, he’s well dressed, he’s got new teeth too.
Mom says, “Got my child support?”
Dad replies, “Actually yes. When you divorced me, I hit rock bottom. Then I crawled my way back up from the purgatory of the streets, invented a better mouse trap and then sold the design for a cool $5 million. Here’s a check for the back child support - and a little bit more for your trouble. May I come in? It’s Friday, and I was hoping for perhaps a family movie night again.”
Mom stands in the doorway and thinks about it. She grabs the check from Dad’s hand.
“Sure, I think you’ve proven yourself.” Mom replies.
Dad walks into the house; the children celebrate the joyous occasion in the living room. Mom smiles - the family is back together.
The celebration abruptly ends when one of the children realizes that the internet just dropped. A text comes through each of the family member’s phones: “Internet outage reported; estimated restoration time: seven hours.”
“So I guess no family movie night then.” One child sobs.
Dad replies, “Goddam fuckin’ internet. It’s those goddam fucking Russians and Chinese fuckin’ with our shit. Fuck those guys.”
Dad escorts himself back out the front door.
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