It appears love and obsession do more than create something for one individual; instead, they make a culture of sorts that is fascinated by the cadences of film enthusiasts and buffs. And yours indeed being a cinephile, there’s always a launching point, a fulcrum, for why we storied our manners into seeking out the complexities and intricacies of film and its sensation. They’re dreams for us fanatics, giving us the language and stories we want to see presented on the big screen while we become accustomed to them and try replicating the scenarios in reality.

Kim’s Video is another documentary that brings a manic and somewhat Campbellian structure to the forefront, one illuminated by director David Redmon’s (and Ashley Sabin’s) inquisitive yet relentless mystery of finding out where the fifty-five thousand film collection of the former Kim’s Video flagship moved to and who was behind it. Yours truly would like to know if the Coen Brothers will ever reimburse the $600 they owe to the owner, Yongman Kim. Reportedly, the films ended up in the small Italian town of Salemi after Kim found another candidate who was worthy to possess them.

The personal, underground quality indicates this more as a mystery or crime feature, and it becomes a pervasively intriguing exploration for only 88 minutes with splices of classic movies interwoven. Demented movie admiration may not be a reality yet, but it could be the tipping point for why more folks want to step into film. The dreadful aspect is that, even though admirable for its unique focus on this mission, it doesn’t exactly sell its story in the manner you’d expect for one in this genre. Tossing in nerves for experience is okay but not thrilling enough to declare where we can go. If they’re trying to fabricate this whole story based on a film store that old-school directors are familiar with, wouldn’t that be a much more exciting showcase of how infatuation can disrupt our perceptions?

So, Kim’s Video is not a pivotal missive from director Redmon, only another tidbit on guerrilla-investigative reporting and how the events from the store formerly on Avenue A and East 6th Street were addressed in today’s time. It does get the kudos for turning the field wide open for a chance at solving the past for lovers of psychotronic cinema, though.