THE VIDEO SHOP

For Steve Wilson-Alexander, a member of Wollongong born theatre collective re:group, the video shop was a staple of his young life. It was a past time where he went to browse and borrow from the shelves, it inspired the amateur movies he and his mates made during lunchtime at Bulli High, and it fed his literary and theatrical interest that eventually led him to study Theatre at the University of Wollongong. Today though, the video shop that saw so much of Steve is no longer around. The community that lived in the tradition of browsing and borrowing has seemingly dissipated, and the effort and devotion it took to consume media in the way Steve, and so many others did, is mistaken as out-dated or obsolete. For the majority of us, the ease with which we can take to Netflix, trawl 20 odd titles before settling on one, press pause or play from our phones, rewatch or ditch that title with no late fees, no scratched discs, and no need for a parent to approve the M rated movie we’re after, is considered a great pleasure.  

In re:group’s latest work, Coil, they ask us though to instead consider what we may have lost in this newfound ease. Coil is a cross form production, a narrative recount and technological feat that depicts the history of both re:group and its members, and Wollongong as a community where text, art and entertainment are central. It is a sentimental, profound and, in the truest sense, unique live performance, the first half being a telling, by Steve, of his times at Bulli High and UOW, and more importantly at the video shop. 

“[Coil] follows my friendship with one of my best mates, Jackson, and how we used to make movies together in high school and we used to go to the video shop all the time. And so it's me reflecting, and then also telling the story of Leading Edge video store in Thirroul that closed down in May, 2020. [I’m] reflecting on the loss of the friendships that you have when you're a young person—you have so many connections with so many people, particularly when you're an artist. So I talk in the show about when Jackson and I went to uni and studied the performance degree. We used to make theatre shows with like, 20 young people running around on stage, which can obviously only work if we're all doing it for free. And so there was no money, there were heaps of people, there were lots of friendships. And then I compare that to the loss of the video shop, because now I'm 32 and most of those people don't make art anymore. In the same way that we don't have the video shop, I guess I'm talking about losing a certain type of space in our community.”

This tangible loss of Wollongong’s community Steve tells us of is also one that’s not limited to the video shop. It’s one he points out is applicable too to live music.

“The venues all sort of dried up…Oxford Tavern, Rad Bar…for a while there, the change seemed to be that there were just less spaces for people to come together around community. And the rental crisis and how difficult it is to find space, to have space, affects all of this.”

But by the same stick, this focus on tangible forms has seen a resurgence in the past five years: film photography is again the done technique, vinyl records have become more valuable than ever, and, take Wanderer for example, we are doing the work to revive print. Steve sees that there’s a “thirst for this” which re:group are exploring and giving light to. However, there’s a certain depth that is often overlooked in these more trend based resurgences, this depth is where re:group are refocusing.

“When it comes to nostalgia we do want to probe a bit deeper. I think that often nostalgia is just used as a surface level aesthetic and it doesn't ask, Why have we lost what we have lost? Why are things different and have we lost anything and was it worth it? So we want to explore the more real and three-dimensional aspects of nostalgia.”

Drawing on a real-world, universally appreciated space such as the video shop, as Steve and re:group have done, has proven a wonderful way to appeal to these ‘three-dimensional’ aspects of nostalgia. 

“We just did our first show of this tour and there were a few people who seemed to rock up because they were like, 'Oh, I saw the ads on Facebook and I just love the video shop so I came along.’ So I think that the video shop really has this power; so many people have a really deep connection and memory of that place.”

Part of this real-world impact that the show is seen to be having likely comes from its true-to-life nature. Steve himself interviewed John and Marion Wallace, the former owners of Leading Edge video shop in Thirroul. Right before they tore the shop down they actually gave Steve the shop sign, which became part of the set. The conversations he had with the couple went on to shape the script, particularly in its second half which is a screenplay written by Mark Rogers. 

“The way the show works is that for the first half I'm telling this story, literally just me being like, 'Hey everyone, I'm Steve. I used to go to the video shop.' And in between doing all of that Sol is running around with the camera, gathering shots. Then in the middle we press play and the movie starts playing. And so the audience can watch this movie that's made up of all of the reordered shots that you've seen before. So it's reordered into what now feels like a movie. And I'm running around on stage because every second shot is live, and I have to be in the right position to deliver the right line as the right character in the right costume.”

He tells me it’s similar to a video ‘loop pedal’ used so that a performer can interact with themselves. He also tells me “Sol has created a video design that uses seven programs running on three computers, he's attached a Wii remote to his camera, he's 3D printed objects to use the camera like that. It's really wild. It sounds convoluted but it makes a lot of sense when you’re there in the room.”

When the idea first came about, the team were asking themselves, “Can one character play all of the characters in a movie live on stage? So if we film half of a scene on stage in front of you, and then we play back those shots and cut between the prerecorded and back to the live camera, can the performer get into the other position and do the other half of the scene with themselves?” It seems that, after inventing their own process, and with enough passion, it has been done. More than this, the show is Auslan interpreted and has an audio description for blind or vision impaired audiences too. Re:group set out to ensure there was something in Coil for everyone. 

“Form-ally we make a movie out of sequence, live on stage, and then I interact with the movie so that I can play all of the different characters. So there's something very new about this show. It's not all reminiscing. I definitely don't want people to think that it's just for an older generation, or just for a younger generation…It's actually pretty accessible as an experience. It's quite fun and silly and sentimental and nostalgic and sad as well.”

On getting to this point, from local, cash-strapped, student, to touring performer and theatre-maker, Steve credits the social side of his story largely. When asked about what Coil represents to him, he defers instead to talking about what it represents of his friends and how proud he is of them, he describes the show as “bigger than the sum of its parts.”

“A lot of the writing things that I do with Mark [Rogers] is us in the surf talking about possible shows. So one thing that comes up for us is: do it, you know, do something. Get your ideas up there. Find an open mic night, find a scratch night, organise something in your friend's living room. The main thing is to test your ideas. Put them out in front of people. If they stick, they stick, if they don't, they don't. But don't let them be theoretical or in your head forever. You are a writer but no one knows that. You can't just try and convince people of that. Practise your art and then you'll be making community and something else will happen.”

It is clear that in this surf talk, in this practice and active ‘doing’, many, many things have happened for Steve and re:group: Coil and the resurrection of the video-shop community being one of them. 

Coil is a show that is inherently in, but is not limited to, the realm of Wollongong. It is a retelling of our community in a context that is no longer seen, but it also offers pertinent commentary on global community and tradition. It is a lovely narrative of growth and loss, friendship and the ways in which these entities move as the world does too. You can see Steve and his fellow cast along with the team of re:group performing Coil at Wollongong’s IPAC theatre from July 26-29. It’s not one you can catch at the cinemas, or stream at a later date, and much like the video shop it asks you to play your part, come and join in before it’s too late. 

Get your tickets to see the production here!

Words by: Matilda Reid