
Austin Zook

Audio By Carbonatix
A submarine hangs from the ceiling, a Jane Fonda cut-out is selling fitness tapes by the wall and Leatherface lurks around every corner at the Video Crypt, the Texas Theatre’s annual art installation celebrating classic video rental stores.
The Video Crypt is currently in its fourth year at the Oak Cliff movie theater, taking over the venue’s Safe Room gallery for the month of October. In addition to the exhibit itself, Video Crypt is co-presenting screenings throughout the month, highlighting seasonally-appropriate selections that harken back to the golden age of video.
The installation is a labor of love, the brainchild of Texas Theatre employees Vianca Vega and Chad Pierce. Eli Luna, the founder of Dallas VHS Swap, is a key collaborator, helping them fill the exhibit’s shelves with tapes.
“The idea was to recreate that feeling of going to a mom and pop shop,” says Pierce. “We all grew up in that age, and it’s not an experience that you really get anymore.”
These tapes can range from nostalgia-inducing to bizarre or exciting; a couple of shelves are lined with Japanese versions of American films on VHS. Physical media heads know that when it comes to memorable, striking cover art, nothing comes close to what the Japanese market produces.

Austin Zook
Upon entering the space, guests are greeted by one of four VHS displays. Each display has shelves on either side. The installation’s operators loosely theme or curate each shelf face, pulling from their own collections to maximize the breadth of tapes on display.
To the right is a checkout counter, complete with an old ‘90s-era computer, a rack of plastic bags for any purchases made, and, of course, a clerk. Video clerks were the ultimate arbiters of taste in the video store era, as they exposed people to new films, passed judgment over purchases and gave prime placement to movies they wanted to rent.
Most of the items on display at the Video Crypt are not for sale (or rent), with the exception of a shelf in the corner filled with clearance tapes and some shirts and zines at the register. Pierce says he still gets to enjoy playing the part of a clerk when he mans the exhibit.
“Part of the fun of working up here in the Video Crypt is you get to feel like you’re working in a video store,” he says. “People share their stories of all these videos. They’re like, ‘Oh, I remember this tape.’ And, you know, you get fun stories. It’s a good way to connect with people up here.”
In addition to the tapes on the shelves, the video store aesthetic of the Video Crypt is completed with classic movie posters on the walls and standees from the era advertising then-new releases like Jackie Brown, The Hunt for Red October, and Jane Fonda’s workout series (ranging in difficulty from beginner, low-Intermediate, high-intermediate and Advanced, for the true jazzercise aficionado). These are also pulled from the curators’ personal collections.
A favorite of Pierce’s is a standee for the ill-advised 1992 Stephen King film The Lawnmower Man, advertising a “Watch and Win!” contest. The top prizes? A “Virtual Reality System” valued at $40,000… or a Mazda.
This year, Pierce says the team has the space’s layout fully nailed down now. Each year, they cycle through different VHS tapes, posters and standees to ensure a fresh experience. The focus now is on finding ways to continue expanding and growing the brand and actively engaging the Video Crypt community.
One idea is to have people come by and film commercials for the faux video store. These commercials can then be edited together, put on VHS, and sold at next year’s Video Crypt. Pierce says anyone with an idea they want to pitch can send a message to the Video Crypt Instagram page.
Much like music on vinyl, VHS as a medium has had a resurgence in recent years, with people yearning for the old video aesthetic or just seeking a way to collect and display the films they love. These curios of a bygone era have made the Video Crypt a must-visit exhibit for Dallas cinephiles over the past several years. It has become a retroactive work of community-building, bringing people together with movies and a physical space to talk about them and remember the way things used to be. And if nothing else, maybe just a warm hug from our old friend, nostalgia.
Information on Video Crypt’s upcoming screenings can be found on the Texas Theatre’s website.