Kim's Video
Written and Directed by David Redmon and Ashley Sabin
Runtime: 1 hour, 25 minutes
In select theaters April 5th, opens nationwide April 12th

by Stacey Osbeck, Staff Writer

In the 1990s you had your local VHS rental spot and, if you were lucky, a Blockbuster Video. Blockbuster carried mostly big hits. The local establishment rented the same titles in less quantity plus a few foreign films and porn, to distinguish itself. But you couldn’t go to either and ask if they had works by Kenneth Anger or Maya Deren, never mind anything from the Czech New Wave. Streaming hadn’t arrived. Amazon only expanded to VHS and DVD sales in 1998, even still at the that time the majority of American households didn’t have a personal computer let alone internet access to place an order.

In this landscape Kim’s Video became a Mecca for NYC film lovers, filmmakers and average Joes wanting to expand their cinematic horizons. While attending film school, a friend took me to the one on St. Mark’s Place: indie films, avant garde, documentary, experimental, entire areas categorized by director, blaxploitation, japanimation, shorts. Wandering the aisles one discovered titles and genres no one dreamed existed. Here they could be stumbled upon. The world of film suddenly became exponentially bigger than the latest romcom or action flick. Kim’s Video wasn’t just a rental shop, it was a feeling.

In their documentary feature, Kim’s Video, David Redmon and Ashley Sabin are driven by that deep love for the now defunct chain. Movie clips spliced throughout mirror situations the filmmakers encounter. It also helps convey the wide range of what Kim’s offered so the audience gets a taste. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep a pen handy while watching this doc to jot down some lesser known gems like Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977), Mixed Blood (1985), There is a Criminal Touch to Art (1976) or Computer Beach Party (1987).

Yongman Kim started renting out videos as a side hustle in his dry cleaning shop. When the movies raked in more money than freshening up clothes he saw he was in the wrong business. Eventually turning Kim’s Video into a chain, he sent employees out to international festivals to gather interesting and esoteric films that otherwise people wouldn’t have access to. This also drew well established moviemakers to Kim’s with the Coen Brothers reportedly racking up $600 in late fees.

Mr. Kim, for some videos, resorted to bootlegging, bringing on an FBI raid. Once the G-men left he had another whole allotment of copied tapes ready to restock. The last shop shuttered in 2014. Which led the documentarians to ask: what happened to Kim’s Video? Where are all those films now? And who is the elusive Yongman Kim?

Here things take a turn for the bizarre. It involves a dishonest art historian, Sicily and the Mafia—an Italian interviewee who reveals this shortly thereafter winds up dead. It deals with confronting an indifferent mayor, rescuing a rotting collection and seeking out the only man who can help make things right, Mr. Kim.

The true story of Kim’s Video turns out more wild than any movie. It’s a fun and engaging doc that will have you fully invested.