O VIDEO, WHEREFORE THY ART?
Welcome (the temperature dropped four degrees as I typed that word) to a moment in time when, thanks to cold, wet and economics, the nature of 'experience' in Britain has never been more vicarious. If you're frozen into position out in the U.S., eyes frosting over in front of MTV, you may feel we got nothing on you. But wait just a mo, bro.
LETTER FROM BRITAIN
Cynthia Rose
0 VIDEO, WHEREFORE MART?
Welcome (the temperature dropped four degrees as I typed that word) to a moment in time when, thanks to cold, wet and economics, the nature of 'experience' in Britain has never been more vicarious. If you're frozen into position out in the U.S., eyes frosting over in front of MTV, you may feel we got nothing on you. But wait just a mo, bro.
Consider: one of every three individual dwelling-spaces in the U.K. now possesses its own video (almost all, like British tellies, cheaply rented). And what do their proud owners find to show themselves at the local Video Marts and Tape Klubs? (There IS one on every block). The absolute dregs of the American drive-in circuit, that's what. Psycho Sisters, Camp Severed, The Brutes, Blowtorch, The Prize Of Peril. Not psychotronic movies, fun Z-grades or even flesh-flicks. Just sheer dross they couldn't even palm off on the Dauph's local.