I was so happy. I was finally at a point in my life where DVDs were affordable, provided I did my homework and found the place selling the movie I most wanted to see for even just a few dollars less than the competition. Yes, it was a simpler time, a time when I enjoyed purchasing the few films I felt genuinely inclined to watch again and again, and to experience in a new way via all the special features.
And then the whisperings of a new device began. I heard rumblings of the Blu-Ray revolution, but I was so encased in my bubble of DVD happiness (having finally phased out any and all remaining VHS tapes-- remember those?) that I was able to turn a deaf ear on them. Blu-Ray would never affect me; I wasn't into dropping all my cash on a new platform for movie watching, not when I was so satisfied with my current viewing means. I watched a Blu-Ray or two with friends and I came to the conclusion that, even if it grew popular, I didn't want to make the switch over, because I found the excessive sharpness of the movies to be incredibly off-putting. That wasn't going to become my problem.
But this Friday, after years of resistance and eye-rolling, Warner Brothers tried to make it my problem. Here was I, in my local Borders (I had a gift card, or else I obviously would've ventured somewhere decidedly less pricey), ready to fork over some $20 for a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. I was so excited, because I'd been seeing and reading advertisements everywhere for this awesome DVD package that would include not only hours of special features and behind-the-scenes footage, but a very exclusive preview of the film's second half, due out in theaters on July 15th. This was perhaps the exclusive reason that I trekked down to the store (in the rain, no less) on the day the DVD was released, so that I could be one of the first people I knew to view all this special features goodness. But what happened instead was deeply disappointing.
Apparently I had been misled by the advertising campaign, perhaps deliberately. You see, when I reached the DVDs section, I was presented with two options: I could purchase a copy of the film, just the film with perhaps a few deleted scenes (which if you know DVDs is nothing special), for the regular price (the 20 or so dollars I was anticipating), or I could have access to all the special features and extras I was promised if and only if I purchased the DVD/Blu-Ray combo for nearly double the price. I'm sure you can imagine the twinge of annoyance that took me over upon reading that.
I don't have a Blu-Ray player, and I have no plans to purchase one any time soon. My living room television and computer both play DVD's, and DVDs are still, for the most part, about half the price of the average Blu-Ray. It makes no sense, logically or financially, for me to make the switch. And yet here was WB thinking they could appeal to my love of Harry Potter and try to force a conversion out of me. It was a nice try, I'll admit-- if any movie could have potentially persuaded me (and I'm guessing many others) to consider Blu-Ray, it was HP7. But I'm not so easily swayed. I bought the regular DVD, contented myself with watching the movie in normal quality and the halfhearted special features the lone disk included, and you know what, WB? It was great. And I'm sure I'll be able to find the preview of the second movie on the Internet in a matter of days, if it hasn't been posted numerous times already. And then I'll send the link to my friends, with the warning that they shouldn't be bamboozled into purchasing a fancy Blu-Ray copy they don't need or want. Or better yet, I'll wait until July to see the first scene of Part 2 in person, the way it should be seen.
It's frustrating to live in a society that's constantly upgrading these things. Yes, it's great that we're on the cutting edge (although I'd like to see a lot of the energy and funds we use for some of these things used on maybe medical advances or helping people who actually need it, but that's another story...), but things are getting out of hand. We assume everyone has an Ipod, a Smart Phone, a laptop computer, and then we get started on comparing brands. I've largely tuned out the snobbery of the Apple disciples of the world, but sometimes it just downright stings to be judged because maybe you can't afford to drop $1500 on a laptop when all you really need it for is word processing and Internet; or your old-school flip phone works just fine for you, because it still makes calls and sends texts, which if you can remember that far back was the original purpose of these increasingly absurd devices.
I'm not old-fashioned. I'm pretty minimalist, but I still have more stuff than I probably need. But I think it merits asking why we're so obsessed with these kinds of things, and where we think it's actually going to get us in the long run. I like to think that my appreciation for and understanding of film and music haven't been negatively impacted by the lack of an Apple insignia on the devices by which I consume them, nor will they be. And I don't like being deceived, just because some corporation thinks they can turn me into one of those consumers who starts blindly assuming I need that next new shiny thing.
