Video stores are quickly joining typewriter repair shops and evening newspapers as relics of yesteryear.
Madison Video, a staple at 500 Madison St. for almost 25 years, quietly shuttered in December. With that, just one video emporium remains in Oak Park, where once there were a dozen back in the go-go days of VHS in the 1980s.
There’s no sad and twisted story behind the latest local closure. Owner Richard Chhun, 50 and of Romeoville, said the rent was going up, and nobody was renting videos.
“I feel bad, but there’s nothing you can do. It just wasn’t making any money,” said the owner, who originally hails from Cambodia.
Commercial real estate broker David King slapped the first “for lease” sign in the window there since the late ’80s, though the signature “Madison Video” marquee is still affixed to the property. “The bottom line is that business model has come and gone,” King said.
Though not if the village’s last video store has a say. Oak Park Wireless has been in business for almost 20 years, located a few blocks closer to the city, just east of Humphrey Avenue at 26 Madison St.
The little video store appears to be teleported straight from the 1990s, complete with its sign boasting the old name, Oak Park Video and Beeper, and their skills at repairing VCRs. Another decal in the doorway advertises the availability of DVD VIDEO.
Since 1995, it’s been owned by Lisa Kheng, also a native Cambodian who once lived in Oak Park, but now stays in Plainfield. The owner was not in the store last Thursday, and didn’t return a message. But her aunt, Nancy, reeled out the details about the store last week, during a brief interview through the front counter’s bulletproof glass window.
No, they don’t offer beepers anymore, or repair VCRs, but a new sign is expensive for a little mom and pop, and they haven’t quite gotten to replacing it. What they do have, according to Nancy, is about 4,000 VHS tapes for sale, along with 3,000 DVDs to rent.
Back in 1985, there were a dozen video shops in the Oak Park area, according to the village’s historical society. One local favorite, Forest Park’s Circle Video, had 50,000 titles by the time it closed in 2006.
But all the little independents got taken down by the chains, and then the chains were decimated by the Internet. Blockbuster had 9,000 U.S. stores at its peak, including one on Lake Street, but is down to just one-sixth of that. Still, they’re trying to keep the brick and mortar alive and thriving, according to a spokesman, despite the signs of impending doom. The last Blockbuster in the area is in a strip mall just off Harlem and North avenues in Elmwood Park.
Oak Park Wireless has a handful of cellphones stocked in its display case, and mobile contracts for customers to sign. Nancy, who declined to give her last name, said the majority of their business comes from phones, but the store has no interest in ejecting the video side of the equation. She admitted that video streaming and kiosks, from the likes of Netflix and Redbox, have eaten away at their customer base.
New releases were going for $2 last week, while old movies were $1.50 for five days. Those stacks of old VHS tapes were 99 cents apiece to take home. Most customers, like Chicagoan Dion Jones, go for horror and action at Oak Park Wireless. Drama and foreign flicks, not so much, according to Nancy.
Jones, 35, said he stops in about once a week because he enjoys the back-and-forth with a store clerk and doesn’t want to use a credit card. “Me and my dad have always been real good friends with them. We have a good rapport,” he said. “Exactly what is a Redbox?”