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[title]There was a time when watching a movie required more than just a click. Streaming didn’t exist, there were no cell phones, and certainly no algorithms suggesting “what you might like.” To watch a movie, you had to go out and find it.
Going to the video store was an experience in itself: an outing, a ritual—almost a cinematic hunt. You had to walk to that brightly lit shop, sometimes with neon signs, push open the door, and face shelves packed with plastic cases. Inside was the treasure: a DVD holding the movie. And before that, in the ’80s, a VHS tape. It was the era of the VCR, adjusting the tracking, and dreaming of having your own player.
The ritual began by signing up for a membership. You got a plastic card with your name on it—and that was already exciting. Renting wasn’t buying: you could take the movie home for 24, 48, or 72 hours. If you didn’t return it on time—or worse, forgot to rewind it—you’d get charged a late fee. It was all part of the game.
There were neighborhood video stores, with faded movie posters covering the walls and owners who knew every title by heart—you could talk to them about cinema for hours. Then came the big chain: Blockbuster, which arrived in Argentina in 1995 promising a more “cinematic” experience—endless aisles, candy, and popcorn to complete your movie night. It was magical to wander those rows, read the back covers, debate between a horror film or the latest Back to the Future, and hope the title you wanted wasn’t marked as “rented.”
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Not every past era was better, but it was different. Technological change is part of evolution. Generation X and part of the millennials grew up with that ritual. Today, everything’s just a click away—we binge ten episodes of a series in two days, watching whatever “just dropped.” We live in liquid times, as Zygmunt Bauman would say: “The culture of liquid modernity no longer has a populace to educate and ennoble, but clients to seduce.”
Still, a few video stores continue to stand strong in Buenos Aires—places where you can still become a member and rent a movie, where film lovers cross paths and talk face to face. And for films that aren’t on any platform, these stores remain guardians of another time.
As a fun fact: Quentin Tarantino worked in a video store before becoming a director, and that experience shaped him forever. Years later, he even bought the store where he used to work. Maybe that’s why, as long as there’s a door to open, shelves to browse, movies to discover, and curious people looking for them, the ritual of the video store will never die.
Noir, Café y Películas
For over thirty years, Marcos Rago has been behind Noir, café y películas (formerly Black Jack), a video store in the heart of Palermo (Soler 4437) that truly has it all. The first location was on Guatemala and Malabia, but recently they moved to Soler, where Marcos and his partner decided to reinvent themselves: they added a cozy café to complete the experience. Coffee and movies—what better combo?
Marcos remembers when his father bought a VCR in 1980: “Everything changed.” In November 1989, at just 23, he opened his first video store with a friend. They started with VHS tapes, then came DVDs, and later Blu-rays. Everything rented out is original, and you can also buy. And if you don’t have a DVD player, Marcos always finds a way to help you enjoy that hard-to-find movie.
Noir has found a way to keep its spirit alive while adding the perfect touch: every Friday there’s a special event—maybe a movie screening with live music, a themed dinner by Función Privada, or even, if you’re lucky, a karaoke night.
Marcos says Noir brings together lifelong customers and curious young people. Not just students—some come to rent a movie and end up staying for a brownie and coffee. Others request full filmographies, like Brian De Palma or Woody Allen.
The video store also connects with younger generations: “We want to speak to young people.” For example, on May 4th—Star Wars Day—they hosted an event with cosplayers and special activities that filled the place with fans.
Membership is free and easy: just pick your movie and take it home. Rentals cost 3,500 pesos per week for DVDs and 7,000 for Blu-rays. The catalog is huge—from European classics to new releases, auteur cinema, and hidden gems.
Marcos remembers the fierce competition days: “If a Blockbuster opened nearby, you were in trouble… luckily, mine was far away.” And unlike streaming, he says Noir’s customers are looking for more than just quick entertainment—they want to relive the ritual.
“Many have become friends—they come back for the experience. Streaming is for people who’ll watch anything: action, comedy, whatever. Here, people come to discover. Some say I’m a living algorithm—I can instantly tell what movie each customer is looking for.”
Fun fact: Noir also hosts a show called Video Rec, featuring guests like Demian Rugna, Tomás Rebord, and Seba De Caro, cementing the place as a true cultural hub.
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Aliens
Keep walking down Soler and you’ll find Aliens (Soler 3555), another historic video store that’s been renting movies for over 30 years. Behind the counter is Yoichiro Higa, a Japanese cinephile who fell in love with Buenos Aires—but his greatest love of all is cinema. Talking to Yoichiro is an emotional experience.
The store was born from a shared passion for movies between Yoichiro and his friend Gabriel Gustavo Rodríguez. They chose an unforgettable name: Aliens. There’s even a sculpture of one in the store. Stepping inside feels like diving into a vintage space filled with pure nostalgia. “Cinema is a window to the world,” says Yoichiro. For him, movies are therapy, escape, relaxation—even a form of healing. “Everything depends on what you’re going through. In that window, you find things you sometimes can’t find within yourself,” he explains. You go for a movie and end up leaving with something deeper to reflect on.
Running a video store today isn’t easy, but collectors and film lovers still come from all over. Yoichiro says digital platforms sped up the closure of many stores, and the pandemic was devastating: “COVID made things really hard, but I managed to reopen. It was like starting all over again.”
Yoichiro lives right behind his vintage store. He’s seen everything and knows everything. The last movie that moved him deeply—and that he wholeheartedly recommends—is The Quiet Girl.
Sometimes, film students come by too. They find in Aliens not just a place to rent movies, but a space to learn and connect with a true cinephile.
El Ciudadano
Another magical, history-filled spot. El Ciudadano (Junín 611) opened in 1991, founded by Gustavo Jaimovich—now retired but still deeply passionate about cinema. He proudly points out that everything in his store is original: guaranteed, professional, and 100% cinephile-approved. It’s not just about loving movies—it’s about knowing them. Gustavo can find whatever film you need, even the ones that seem impossible to locate.
In true old-school fashion, there are no social media accounts. El Ciudadano is an analog refuge in digital times. Its clientele is made up 99% of collectors. Some look for films they’ve already seen and want to own on physical format, while others are completing collections with rare titles. The selection is vast—classics from the 1950s and earlier, and unmissable gems.
The crowd is diverse: people over 60, film students, photographers, screenwriters, and the simply curious. For Gustavo, “Cinema is like food—it’s hard to choose the ten or hundred best. What fault does number 101 have for not making the list? It’s all a matter of taste,” he says, laughing.
The best part of El Ciudadano are the stories. One of the most moving ones he recalls: “Once I was cleaning the VHS shelves and found a movie called Esta es mi vida, by Miguel de Molina. A few weeks later, an 80-year-old woman came in asking for that very film. I told her the price, but added, ‘For you, 16 pesos, Argentinita Vélez.’ She couldn’t believe I knew who she was—because she was the star of the movie. She was moved to tears, and so was I.”
A cinematic moment turned real life—like a scene from Forrest Gump suddenly becoming true. That’s what going to a video store is about: a unique atmosphere, where stories are shared, memories come alive, and little movies based on true events are lived.
Fun fact: the store is named after Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane, often considered one of the greatest films in cinema history.
Tiempos Modernos
No new movies have been released on physical formats in Argentina for four years, so finding certain titles isn’t easy. Thankfully, there are still places keeping the ritual alive.
In the southern zone, in the heart of Wilde, you’ll find Tiempos Modernos (San Francisco Pino 6223), one of the oldest video stores still standing. Over the years, it has evolved—besides renting and selling movies, they now offer video games and related accessories, adapting to modern times without losing their essence. Behind the counter is a family that has kept their passion alive; some members have been part of this little cinephile universe for over 35 years.
Daniel, one of the owners, recalls the old days fondly—and many customers come to relive that experience: wandering the aisles, flipping through covers, and taking their time choosing what to rent. There are lifelong clients and new ones—families who used to go decades ago and now return with their children or even grandchildren. The store is spacious, inviting you to linger and get lost among the movies, because watching films as a family still happens.
Fun fact: they also offer excellent tech support services.
Solo Cine
Solo Cine (Rodríguez Peña 402) is one of the most iconic businesses in downtown Buenos Aires, keeping alive the experience of browsing shelves packed with movies for more than 30 years. It’s not just anywhere—it shines on the legendary Corrientes Avenue, where the spirit of cinema seems to pulse through every corner.
Among curious tourists and lifelong cinephiles, it’s common to see people searching for titles impossible to find on streaming. “What I have can’t be found on any platform, and that attracts people of all ages,” says its owner, Jorge Lococo.
The magic is in taking your time, walking through the shelves, and discovering unexpected gems. “Plus, it’s cheaper than the platforms,” adds Jorge. When David Lynch died, dozens came looking for his entire filmography.
At Solo Cine, requests vary: Russian, European, Japanese, and American classics. There used to be more Argentine cinema available on DVD, but today it’s hard to find, since most local films go straight to streaming. Still, it remains popular among tourists, along with Brazilian and Uruguayan cinema. For film lovers, Solo Cine is a unique space to collect and rediscover films that are part of world cinema history.
Where’s the Last Blockbuster?
The last Blockbuster in the world is located in Bend, Oregon, USA. It’s the only remaining store from the chain that once had thousands worldwide. Today, it’s become a tourist attraction and a symbol of nostalgia for the era of video rentals.
Meanwhile, in Buenos Aires and other cities, a few video stores remain open—reminding us that the magic of choosing a movie, browsing the shelves, and sharing stories still lives on.