Blockbusted! One Man’s Brave Journey into the Blue and Yellow

JR's Update, May 2003: I've now received a number of emails from Blockbuster employees who are a little worked up over the acidic short story below. See what they had to say, and what I dished out in return. Blockbuster has also been a popular topic in our Feedback section, so check that as well. Since this Blockbuster piece seems to provoke even more misunderstandings and ruffled feathers than my old Paul McCartney review, a brief disclaimer is in order: "Blockusted" DOES NOT APPLY TO ALL BLOCKBUSTER EMPLOYEES. Nor am I blaming Blockbuster employees for the overall corporate direction of Blockbuster, Inc.

I walk into Blockbuster and brace myself for the sonic assault. Soon I hear the sounds of the Blockbuster “advertainment” system, an audiovisual collage of Blockbuster gimmicks, self-promotions, bad music, and trailers from overhyped movies. A Blockbuster employee spots me and robotically greets me with that patented Blockbuster “hello” – a special kind of hello that means “Welcome to our store, since I won’t have much time for you once you’re in here, I better say something now to maintain the illusion of customer service.”

As I scan through the new releases, I notice that once again there seems to be no connection between the videos available for rental and the demographics and interests of the community I live in. Hundreds of copies of The Thomas Crown Affair are languishing on the shelves, while the only two copies of the highly-anticipated Boys Don’t Cry have been rented by two of the thousands of lesbians who live in Northampton, the lesbian capital of the U.S.A. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the typical long line forming at the checkout counter. There are two employees at the register checking out customers, and a third employee is sorting videos in another part of the store and seems to be in a highly meditative state.

As I scan through the rows of new releases, a promotional special on Christina Aguilera that nobody asked for blares out of the televisions that surround me. I daydream about an ill-fated video store down the street, we all know the type: a little Mom 'n Pop that always had an interesting movie playing on their little TV behind the counter, right next to the shelves of thoughtfully-selected employees’ picks. But one day there was a sign on their door stating simply that Blockbuster had run them out of business. I glance over at the comedy section, and happen to notice Swimming with Sharks. I recall coming back to Blockbuster after renting it and having a surly employee defend its placement in the comedy section (yes, I usually have better things to do with my time than ask about how movies are categorized. But the store was empty that day and I wanted to know how my input would be received; I wanted to confirm my notion that I really didn't have any).

I thought I had posed an interesting question (and yes, I know that the employee I spoke to did not have the power to categorically change the category where the movie was placed, but I do have the quaint notion that feedback from a customer might, now and again, trickle up the management chain): given that Swimming with Sharks was a pretty graphic film about an employee who tortured his boss, why was it in the comedy section? The answer was crisp and dismissive: “Because it’s a black comedy.” It’s always exhilarating to have your lack of input rubbed in your face; it’s somehow very Zen to experience your own pathetic insignificance. Now that I look back on it, I think this fellow was right, Swimming with Sharks does belong in the comedy section after all. I can hear the Blockbuster promo blaring now: "If you liked Kevin Spacey in KPax , you'll LOVE him in the hilarious Swimming with Sharks.. Find it in the 'Comedy' section, on our special 'Workplace Torture' shelf." Tonight, a mental note to self: don't question store policy (which, as we know all too well, the workers don't control anyway), don't look for indie films buried next to The Spy Who Shagged Me, just grab a Jennifer Lopez movie and get in line like everybody else.

Meanwhile, over at the counter, things are getting a little hairier. There are now four employees out on the floor, but they are disconnected entities without collective awareness or priorities. They are on missions more important than getting customers out of the store – all kinds of vital projects are underway. One “Blockbuster” has emerged from the customer-free barracks in the back and is now restocking videos. Despite the fact that the line is getting much, much longer, there are still only two people behind the counter, and one is on some type of involved phone call. It seems that one of the customers trying to check out had the nerve to be a member of a different Blockbuster branch. This is causing some type of checkout brainlock/technology meltdown. An ongoing phone discussion between Blockbuster branches ensues. I look around for the golden parachute, for the extra worker that might emerge from somewhere with a cheery “how can I help” look on their face. At this point, even a grimly-spoken “I can take the next person at this register” announcement would be just fine. But the stalling line triggers no hidden switches and activates no additional employee brain cells. Or perhaps they are operating the store with full brain capacity, but according to a weak management philosophy or training program. Or, more likely, they are so poorly paid that Blockbuster has agreed to let them work at half-capacity in exchange for half a wage.

Whatever the case may be, there is the same kind of “just wait your turn” attitude in place here that all of us instantly recognize from our experiences at the Registry of Motor Vehicles and other government agencies. But at least then we were waiting to get our license renewed for four years – in this line, we’re waiting for our chance to watch half of The Next Best Thing before yawning off in disgust, forgetting about it under a pizza box, and picking up some pricey late fees in the process. I look around at the others waiting in line, and their faces all tell the same story: “Yep, we’re stuck here.” Just fifteen feet away, there is an employee opting not to help us, but instead to hunker down in the 24 hour return booth. He is bent over the return bin and seems to be hiding from Christina Aguilera as so many of us are.

Then another phone line rings a few times, and who do you think finally picks it up? If you guessed the other employee who was helping customers to check out, then you know your Blockbuster trivia! The line of customers now extends into the comedy section. I ask myself that classic chicken-and-egg question: "Would things be different if Blockbuster had any real competition from other video stores?" I make a silent pledge to keep my cool in line this time. On a recent visit to the store, during some type of late fee hassle (the kind that is being addressed in the class action lawsuit Blockbuster is settling), I had ominously warned an employee that Blockbuster might be in for some financial trouble given the surge in pay-per-view technology. Once again I was set straight: Blockbuster was going to have a monopoly on that market as well.

But back to the line, where I had ample opportunity to think about how seriously I disagree with Blockbuster’s so-called “family values” video stocking policies, where all kinds of violent films and games are available for rental but sexually explicit films or anything carrying an NC-17 rating is banned categorically. So based on this well-thought and deeply moral stocking policy, you can’t rent an unedited version of Crash, a disturbing but original film, but you can rent Married People, Single Sex and other soft-porn titles. But then again, why strive for morality when you have the financial power to flaunt your own hypocrisy?

I think to myself, maybe if I write Blockbuster a strongly-worded letter something will happen. But I already know what’ll happen; I've been down this road before. A really nice district manager will contact me and listen politely to everything I have to say. She will claim to take my viewpoint into consideration and she will send me store credits which I will never receive. I will find myself back in line again, dealing with store employees who seem to draw some type of sick vigor from Blockbuster’s corporate power. As for this particular trip to the store, I am unable to rent my new movies because I still have a movie at home that is late by a day. I am firmly informed that I can’t rent new movies even if I am willing to clear my account of all late fees.

A bit of tit-for-tat ensues, and I really am polite and not acting surly and obnoxious like I am in this letter, but the Blockbuster employee I am working with today is unwilling to bend. He falls back on "story policy;" his hands are tied (It turned out that his grasp of official Blockbuster policy was not as firm as he thought, as a regional manager later veriried to me). But being “in the right” doesn’t help me much that day. I have go home, bring in the overdue movie, and rent it again so that I can rent the new films. I know that the bar code for the overdue movie is on his computer screen and he can simply call it up, but he isn’t going to budge. He wears the pants and lets me know about it.

It’s another great video rental experience at Blockbuster. On my drive home to get the late video so that I can return to the store and wait in line once more, I can’t help but wonder why Blockbuster is unable to harness all their resources to create a more satisfying experience for customers. I resolve to spend more time and money at the one little independent video store we have left. But I’m sure I’ll be exploring my love/hate relationship with Blockbuster again soon, because let’s face it, chances are, Blockbuster’s got the new releases I want – as long as I am interested in the same films as every other Blockbuster customer in every other location in America. Once I decide I’d rather rent Memento instead of Jackass, then I’m in for a fight to the shelves with everyone else in town.

Maybe the real lesson here is for me, and not Blockbuster: when I act like part of the herd, and rent the same movies at the same video store as the rest of the herd, then I can expect to be treated like part of the herd, and let’s face it, I deserve it. So I’d like to formally thank the executives of Blockbuster corporation for making me aware of my own conformist tendencies, which really do need to be eradicated if I am going to make an iota of difference in the world; and I’d also like to thank all Blockbuster executives for their lasting contributions to the advertainment monoculture.

Jon Reed