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Documentary Review: Kim’s Video (2023) by David Redmon and Ashley Sabin

A still from Kim’s Video by Ashley Sabin and David Redmon, an official selection of the NEXT section at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival. Courtesy of Sundance Institute. All photos are copyrighted and may be used by the press only for the purpose of news or editorial coverage of Sundance Institute programs. Photos must be accompanied by a credit to the photographer and/or 'Courtesy of Sundance Institute.' Unauthorized use, alteration, reproduction or sale of logos and/or photos is strictly prohibited.
Forget love letters to cinema. Remember Kim's Video!

Last week, Sundance returned in-person for the first time in two years – and “Kim's Video” played on the historic first night. The excitement in the air was palpable. Paper cutouts of cinema's greatest directors were strewn across the seats of the cinema; I myself picked up a mask of Jean Luc-Godard. Audience members tried on the masks and dried off their snow-crusted boots; the cinema was a-buzz with warm chatter. Like the original Kim's Video in New York, Park City's Prospector Square Theater seemed to witness a newfound community of cinephiles in the making.

 Kim's Video was nominated for the NEXT Innovator Award at

According to and 's sophomore feature, the film's titular subject was a humble franchise and legendary storefront in the Lower East Village. It was, they claim, a center for artists, musicians, and fans alike; Redmon openly admits that he was an avid member. Over the last few decades of the 20th century, Kim's Video had acquired (and bootlegged) an impressive collection of 55,000 rentable VHS tapes. Upon the advent of digitization, however, Kim's Video suddenly disappeared. Redmon, hot on the trail to find out why, follows the scent of Kim's Video for six years. The adventure turns out to be more manic than anyone might have anticipated. He makes multiple trips to the collection's new (and neglected) home in Salemi, Sicily; finds himself embroiled with Italian government officials (some of whom have alleged ties to the mafia); and comes to know and befriend , the charismatic, twinkle-eyed founder who started it all. As Redmon learns more about the decrepit fate of this incredible collection, he also becomes more indignant. He concludes that the only solution to save Kim's Video from the wear and tear of bureaucratic abandonment is, naturally, to repatriate the collection back to New York City… through an “Argo”-like heist. 

(Yes, this does mean Redmon films a fake movie to ship out all these movies.) 

(And yes, it does work – kind of.) 

Redmon's anarchic tendencies raise eyebrows, but easily fizzles out due to the director's easy humor. Between somewhat poetic interludes about the relationship between art and life, wine-drenched glamor and seedy counterculture, Redmon cannot help but crack a few self-reflective jokes. The documentary filmmaker himself cuts comparisons between his own situation and other beloved cinema classics; at one point, he even likens his straits to be like that of a Scorsese movie. Contextually, the film's premiere at Sundance – one of the largest film markets of the year – is doubly funny. Redmon presses that movies — just like Kim's Video — are never just about the people who “own” them. Instead, cinema belongs to The People. 

To this end, Redmon's retelling of the fate of this video store is immensely entertaining. Though he does lay on his cinematic comparisons a bit thick – we get it, the man watches movies! – “Kim's Video” is a genre-defying rollercoaster of a docu-mockumentary-essay-movie-about-movies. The frenetic stakes and the expository out-of-control spiraling doesn't overwhelm the viewer. Instead, Redmon sweeps the viewer along for the ride. Through Kim's Video, anyone can join the “ghosts of cinema” and be a part of the silver screen as we know it. 

As the credits rolled, “Kim's Video” was met with uproarious applause. When Youngman Kim himself — now bearded — showed up at the Q&A, the room tittered. He spent some time to thank his collaborators and recount his first immigration experience in the US. Then he summarized the film in a word: “Kim's Video was known as a bootleg store — but that's not the point.” Kim's Video was – and always has been – much less about the destination than it has been about the journey.

About the author

Grace Han

In a wave of movie-like serendipity revolving around movies, I transitioned from studying early Italian Renaissance frescoes to contemporary cinema. I prefer to cover animated film, Korean film, and first features (especially women directors). Hit me up with your best movie recs on Twitter @gracehahahan !

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