Glebe Video: a story of catalogue and comfort
Glebe Video: a story of catalogue and comfort
By Iva Apostolova
Glebe Video will soon close its doors after 40 years.
It was the start of the second year of my PhD studies at the University of Ottawa, and I was feeling homesick. I had just taught my first course, which kept me busy, but Ottawa can be cold and grey and unwelcoming at times. Streaming services weren’t quite a thing like they are now, and I was desperate for a taste of something familiar.
So, I took a suggestion from a fellow grad student. He said that I may be able to find something in the Glebe to soothe my European soul. Next thing I knew, I was walking on Bank Street between Second and Third avenues, climbing the stairs toward this mysterious video store, tucked away on top of a pub, that I was nothing short of skeptical about. No, they didn’t have an online catalogue, which I thought was for sure a red flag. And they were ancient – around since 1985, for God’s sake!
The place wasn’t what I had expected at all! Instead of a dishevelled mess lorded over by an apathetic store guardian, I was greeted by two older gentlemen, busy organizing returned DVDs in an immaculate backroom. There was a funky Fellini clock on the wall and an old TV that was playing movies on a loop. When I was finally able to look around the several spacious rooms, I was dumbfounded by the endless stacks of DVD covers that went all the way up to the ceiling.
One of the quietly friendly fellows immediately inquired about what had brought me there. I was so relieved that I immediately confessed the reason for my visit. The spark in his eyes was unmistakable. Wait, he said, let me show you our international collection. In the middle of a large room, there was a catalogue table for Russian films only. I am not just talking about the six token Tarkovsky movies that have made their rounds on the festival circuits – I found myself flipping through several hundred titles ranging from such classics as the 1925 Battleship Potemkin to obscure action flicks that I never thought I would see outside my parents’ living room!
One of the guys came to inquire whether I have found what I was looking for. I didn’t know, I said, I hadn’t had the time to look through the enormous catalogue . . . nervous chuckle. Oh, but if you gave me the title, I could double check for you . . . warm smile. After a five-second pause . . . no, we don’t have that title, but I will contact the embassy on Monday to see if they might have it. That’s when I knew these guys weren’t joking when it came to movies! I don’t know if I was more relieved or elated, but I knew that what I had stumbled upon was a whole experience.
It’s an experience I relived over and over again for the next few years when, becoming a regular, I was either eavesdropping on conversations with other clients or I was an eager participant in one myself. And when I eventually moved to the Glebe with my new family, I discovered that the same quiet enthusiasm, precious knowledge and kindness (among other things, not pushing the return dates of even the newest releases!) was extended to my young daughter who would stare at the kids’ section for a good hour or so at a time. Although streaming movies online was slowly but surely becoming the norm, my daughter, like any kid, still enjoyed being able to not only pick the titles herself but also to hold and touch the physical disc of the moving pictures that so mesmerized her.
By the time the pandemic rolled around, my life had become impossibly full and busy. Although I could no longer afford the luxury of visiting the video store that had given me so much comfort and solace as a student and had also become a permanent fixture of my daughter’s childhood years, I was heartbroken to learn that Glebe Video had to leave what I had considered its permanent home on top of the pub between Second and Third. There was definitely panic and deep regret. Regret that I had not made more of an effort to keep up the visits, if for nothing else than for the conversations with real movie connoisseurs!
I was beyond relieved when I learned that the store had found a new home in the basement of Fourth Avenue Baptist Church. Even though the space was significantly reduced (many of the movies were in boxes on the floor, which had forced the creation of an online catalogue), I was cheering the owner so hard for keeping it alive when all but one other video store in Ottawa had long closed its doors that I thought I was going to cry when I first visited.
Sadly, that first visit turned out to be my last. Such is life. But looking back, I don’t think my new life in Canada would have been the same without the store and its wonderful guardians. Rest in peace, Glebe Video, and know that you have served the purpose of bringing pure joy and comfort to everyone who visited you!
Iva Apostolova is associate professor and vice-rector, research and academic, at Saint Paul University and a regular Glebe Report contributor on films and TV.