Taste in Video: Some People Just Don’t Get the Picture

It had been a while since my husband and I drew all the blinds, turned off the lights, shut the door, made sure our daughter was asleep, and then engaged in some serious entertainment.

And Richard and I do so enjoy a good video.

Lately it seems our problem has been timing. I know that now, after stopping by the video store early this weekend.

I hardly recognized the place. There was none of this picked-over, bare-shelves business. No grabbing at tapes just to make sure that the guy next to you doesn’t get it first.

Before me was an undisturbed cornucopia of boffo box office, as well as the usual teen-age slasher flicks, obscure foreign films with fading subtitles and schlock (most of it starring Burt Reynolds) that you wouldn’t even watch on the tube.

Overwhelmed, I rented two.

After much deliberation.

See, video selection is sort of a sore point in our house. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. But you know how some people can be.

Like Richard, for example. The last time the two of us decided to rent some weekend fun, he was the one who went to the store.

(No sense both of us going and risk creating a scene in public.)

So he comes home and pulls his selection out of the bag to show me. He’s grinning.

“We saw it,” I say.

“Are you sure ?” he says.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s the one where some cousin is visiting from Hungary or wherever and she’s standing on the end of the runway at JFK watching the planes take off.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “Did we like it?”

This has happened on more than one occasion. Not that I’m keeping count, you understand. But a little here, a little there, and those dollars can get away pretty quickly. Just ask Donald Trump.

So as I was saying, I made this weekend’s selections very carefully. Especially since, pecuniary matters aside, two videos can lock up a weekend pretty good.

Think about it. When’s the last time you have not watched a rental video that you’ve shelled out a whole $2.50 for?

Husband: “God, this stinks.”

Wife: “Yeah, got to be one of the worst.”

Husband: “Oh, did you hear that ? Give me a break!”

Wife: “What? I missed it.”

Husband: “OK, I’ll turn it back.”

Anyway, I was getting a little tired of that scenario, so when given such a vast choice in video, I picked two that I knew Richard and I could both enjoy.

One was a witty farce and the other featured a sorry foursome of drug addicts living a squalid urban existence which they were able to maintain by holding up drugstores and then shooting up until they could hardly see straight.

We went with the comedy first, saving the sure-fire winner for last.

“So where did you hear about this movie?” Richard asks, sliding the tape into the VCR.

“I don’t know, I read about it somewhere,” I say, which is what I always say when Richard uses that tone.

It’s that tone, see, that signals one of the inherent pitfalls of video choice, part of the insidious code that has destabilized countless otherwise happy marriages all over America.

In other words, what Richard was really saying was, “If this stinks, you are personally responsible.”

Not that I ever stoop to that level, of course.

Did I mention it when the comedy turned out all right? (Richard: “This is so stupid, it’s sort of funny.”)

Or when the addicts’ adventures did not disappoint? (Richard: “Great.”)

Or when Richard, returning the first two movies, picks up a third ?

All right, I did mention it. But that’s about all.

“Look what I got,” Richard says, displaying the weekend’s third movie title.

“Yeah, I saw that there,” I say.

OK, OK. So what I was really saying was, “And I had the good sense to leave it where I saw it.”

Not that I’m blaming Richard--even though this movie was so bad that we fast-forwarded over the love scene.

But I didn’t bring that up. Not even once.

Why should I?

Richard and I, we have an understanding about videos.

Dianne Klein’s column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Klein by writing to her at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7406.