Once a mainstay for cinephiles in 1980s and 1990s Manhattan, the sprawling video emporium Kim’s Video stocked over 50,000 films—both popular favorites and obscure international discoveries almost impossible to find elsewhere.
From its flagship location on St. Mark’s Place, owner Youngman Kim grew his chain to five stores across the city, amassing the most diverse collection of movies anywhere through his relentless passion. However, the rise of DVD and streaming led to Kim’s closure in the late 2000s, leaving fans bereft of its treasure trove.
Kim’s donation of the massive collection to the small Italian town of Salemi offered hope that it would live on for future generations. But what truly became of these films? This is the mystery director David Redmon sets out to solve, uncovering unexpected twists.
Redmon’s cinematic sleuthing takes him from the ruins of 80s East Village to the back alleys of Sicily and beyond. Along the way, we learn how Kim’s went from underground video punk to spawning a new wave of indie auteurs. Most intriguingly, in grappling with cinema’s digitization, Redmon’s documentary becomes its own unpredictable thriller, embracing film as the ultimate art of imagination and discovery.
The Immigrant’s Vision
When Youngman Kim first arrived in New York City from South Korea in 1979, he saw opportunity where others might see struggle. Still just learning English and starting fresh in a new country, Kim focused on hard work as a dry cleaner to make ends meet. But through long hours of pressing shirts and delivering orders, his mind began to wander to another passion: movies. Kim loved exploring new films and discovering hidden international gems ignored by bigger shops.
In 1987, Kim took a chance by placing a shelf of rented VHS tapes in his storefront. To his surprise, customers snatched them up as eagerly as they did their dry cleaning. Gradually, the tapes outnumbered the steam presses, and soon the first Kim’s Video was born in the East Village. Through tireless searching, Kim stocked obscure finds alongside cult classics and art house anomalies next to Hollywood hits. He sent employees on missions to foreign festivals to salvage banned films and bootlegs.
Word spread fast of Kim’s treasury, and by the 1990s, multiple new locations buzzed with energy. Employees recalled marathon shifts fueled by sugar-fueled debates about Bergman and Tarantino. Fresh-faced directors like Alex Ross Perry reminisced about sneaking early efforts behind the counter, while habitués swapped film recommendations and underground fanzines. By its peak, 55,000 titles crammed the famed St. Marks store—a ticket to a global film swap meet where nothing was off limits so long as it fit Kim’s expansive worldview.
Through it all, the stoic Kim kept growing his collection while quietly absorbing the store’s eclectic spirit. His video empire rose as a populist palace for outsiders and artists, a gathering spot where movies provided escape and connection. Though changes ultimately shuttered Kim’s iconic stores, his vision lives on for those who recall movies’ power to bring worlds together between reels and shelves.
Tales from Salemi
Youngman Kim faced a dilemma when deciding what to do with his massive collection of over 55,000 films after closing his famed New York rental shops. Seeking the perfect home where cinephiles could continue enjoying his titles, an offer from Salemi, Italy, piqued Kim’s interest.
The small Sicilian town vowed the collection would be housed in a public facility, offering Kim reassurance that his lifework wouldn’t collect dust in obscurity. A celebratory arrival greeted the films, with locals proudly unveiling rare flicks for all to see. But not long after, access grew difficult, and questions surrounded the collection’s care.
Years later, filmmaker David Redmon wished to explore these rumors during a trip to discover the videos’ current state. But upon arriving in Salemi, an uneasy task soon followed. Officials stayed elusive, and the designated building sat locked, an unkempt interior sparking concerns for the neglected titles.
Persevering in his search for clarity, Redmon’s inquiries tangled him in political threads far murkier than expected. Tracking leads toward dubious figures intent on silence; his well-meaning mission transformed into an investigative thriller. What really transpired with the donation, and could the beloved films still be rescued? Through determination and more than a few surprises, the truth behind Salemi’s unfulfilled pledge would finally find its way to light.
The Trail Goes Cold
David’s hunt for answers about Kim’s Video collection had led him to Sicily, but upon arriving, he found only dead ends. The promised archive set to house the tapes had been closed for years with no public access. Redmon searched in vain for any trace of the treasures within, finding no record of how they were being preserved or even where they were stored.
Determined to uncover the truth, he began questioning locals about the mysterious deal that brought the collection there. Most knew little or were reluctant to speak out, wary of drawing unwanted attention. But David was a man on a mission and would not be deterred. He tracked down leads that led him to the mayor at the time the agreement was made, a flamboyant figure named Vittorio Sgarbi known for ruffling feathers.
Sgarbi proved evasive under David’s questioning, dodging specifics about the terms of the deal or how the funds were spent. Suspicions arose that promises made had not been kept. When footage surfaced of the politician associating with shady characters, David’s investigative instincts told him more digging was warranted. He soon found himself closing in on uneasy truths about small town politics, missed opportunities, and threats lurking beneath a façade of culture and civic pride.
As shadows lengthened around the collection’s status, David worried for the films’ safety. Had years of neglect damaged what Kim’s meticulously amassed? Where has the trail truly gone cold? He was still missing crucial pieces, and danger could emerge if he pulled too hard on certain threads. But with so much at stake, he was ready to follow this path wherever it led.
Rescue in Salemi
David Redmon’s quest to uncover what happened to Kim’s Video collection brought him to the small Sicilian town of Salemi. But what he found there only deepened the mystery. The warehouse supposedly housing the thousands of tapes was closed; its condition is unclear. Local officials stayed elusive, refusing his requests to view the collection.
Redmon’s cinephile passion turned to frustration. These films deserved better than such neglect. Memories of classic movies fueled his determination—sometimes the only way forward was an unorthodox plan. Donning a disguise, he accessed the warehouse after hours, camera rolling. The scene resembled something from Blow Out; the collection was disorganized, and some tapes were damaged. An alarm blared as he searched for answers.
Back home, answers remained elusive. But in poring over favorite films, an inspiration emerged—why not turn real life into the drama of his favorite heists? With friends, he hatched an elaborate plan borrowed from the greats, confronting wary locals while evading both discovery and danger. Famous directors concealed their faces as tensions mounted.
Through it all, one man offered a glimmer of hope—Yongman Kim, now removed from the business but still devoted to film. Kim understood Redmon’s plight, inviting him deeper into the true story. Their talks revealed the complex forces at work and a path forward that respected Kim’s original vision.
In the end, Redmon’s perseverance secured the collection’s future. With Kim’s cooperation and help from new allies, the tapes emerged from the shadows. They’ve found a fitting home where their influence can spread, ensuring Kim’s Video lives on in stories and memories for movie lovers everywhere. Some rescues require an unconventional approach, but the materials are what matter most. This mission was a success thanks to one man’s refusal to let the story fade to black.
The Legacy of Kim’s Video
Kim’s Video cultivated a generation of fiercely independent filmmakers in New York City. Home to young cinephiles and clerks during its heyday, the storied chain became a breeding ground for new voices. Directors like Alex Ross Perry and Robert Greene credit their time at Kim’s with igniting their love of cinema and connecting them with like-minded creatives.
Greene recalls the East Village location as “the center of the movie world.” Clerks would eagerly debate films for hours with customers. This fostered a sense of community and hands-on education hard to find elsewhere. For many, it was a safe haven, a place to explore controversial work and soak in diverse perspectives.
While online streaming has boosted availability, it can’t replicate the magic of browsing unique titles selected by passionate staff. Finding obscure foreign gems or bootleg editions only at Kim’s was an adventure in itself. The late owner, Yongman Kim, had an unparalleled eye for discovery, unafraid to take risks that expanded minds.
Kim’s enduring impact has come full circle. Some of its former clerks are now acclaimed filmmakers explored in classrooms internationally. Meanwhile, services like Criterion Channel cater to aficionados shaped by the store’s aesthetic. Its collector’s item releases are a nostalgic nod to Kim’s knack for preserving important histories. Though the store is gone, its legacy lives on in repertory cinemas, and fans are committed to experiential viewing. Kim’s proved nothing can replace real community in appreciating our shared loves, on screen and off.
The Spirit of Kim’s Lives On
Redmon and Sabin deliver both as documentarians and caper-film directors. Their adventure makes for an entertaining watch as they work to rescue Kim’s collection from disarray. Yet this story says something deeper about how we lost touch with the spirit Kim nurtured.
In the old days at Kim’s, rarely-seen films mingled with pop classics. Clerks cared not for credentials but for passion. They curated experiences, sparking discoveries and friendships that fed careers. This special place valued the outsider and challenged normal ways of seeing.
Today, streaming gives access but lacks serendipity. We choose alone what was once found together. Rare titles may remain unseen without a guide. Community fades when recommendations happen on a screen rather than across the counter.
Still, Redmon ensured Kim’s collection found advocates willing to share its wonders. And followers keep Kim’s memory alive by championing the bold, the bizarre, and the overlooked. New forums let connections form online, where stores once thrived.
While change swept the industry, Kim’s spirit of adventure lives on in those who ensure great stories find their audiences. And its example shows how a love of film can build community and shape lives when passion is set free.
The Review
Kim's Video
Kim's Video delivers an entertaining documentary-cum-heist film that resurrects a legendary video store's spirit. Though it sacrifices depth to indulge its caper, the film nourishes nostalgia for a bygone era of niche discovery. It leaves us hoping others will continue shining light on the diversity and connections that Kim's championed.
PROS
- Engaging storytelling as a documentary and fictional caper
- Evokes nostalgia for video encourages
- Rescues Kim's collection to be shared more widely.
CONS
- Sacrifices documentary depth for fictional elements
- Less exploration of the impact of the home video shift
- Not comprehensive on other subjects like mafia involvement
