Movie columnist Dennis Perkins’ DIY project over the holidays: A new home for his collection of physical media. Photo courtesy of Dennis Perkins

Professional/saintly volunteer film preservationists like the fine folks at Portland’s Kinonik are making sure our precious movie history isn’t lost. But the rest of us have been put in the position of ensuring our favorite films and TV shows don’t vanish in the greedy blink of a CEO’s eye as well.

Don’t believe me?

Movies aren’t as permanent as they used to be.

Warner Bros. CEO David Zaslav rightfully became the face of the soulless “movies = content” movement when he shelved the studio’s “Batgirl” and “Coyote Vs. Acme.” Both films had major budgets, were basically finished, and are now non-movies after Zaslav decided it wasn’t cost-effective to release them.

“Big whoop,” some might scoff. “What’s a couple of spinoff properties in the grand scheme of things?” Apart from being unprecedented for a studio to literally erase completed films after a glance at its ledger, Zaslav’s reign has made explicit the profit-over-quality philosophy. The stereotype of bean counters mocking any idea that movies actually mean something is now explicit reality.

We video store nerds tried to warn you.

I watched the video store industry die from the inside (RIP Videoport) while my fellow video clerks’ warnings about the false promises of the streaming world went unheeded. Now look at your monthly streaming bill: Multiple platforms have carved entertainment into proprietary kingdoms, each charging you for entry, and each subject to the whims of commerce. (Here’s to Belfast’s Opera House Video for keeping the fires burning.)

Want to watch your childhood favorite film or TV show? Better be prepared to find out who owns the rights, pay the toll for reams of content you don’t care about, and hope you can catch it before the bean counters decide it isn’t cost-effective to carry it any more. Or, as happened this holiday season, a certain streamer (cough — Amazon — cough) just cuts out the most pivotal section of one of the most beloved classics of all time and figures nobody will notice. (It was ”It’s a Wonderful Life,” and we definitely noticed.)

Say what you want about video stores, but once we carried something, it was always going to be there, on VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray or laser disc. It existed, and we lowly clerks took care of it because we loved it as much as you did. Now, even the “original” programming created specifically by and for streaming companies can disappear into oblivion, while older titles are an even more disposable afterthought. Disney+ recently Thanos-snapped its own Disney-made series like “Willow” and “The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers,” and since they were never put on DVD, they literally do not exist. Anywhere.

Physical media is now revolutionary

We all love sticking it to the man, and now the simple act of purchasing a movie on DVD helps thwart the steamroller of Big Streaming. The entire business model these companies rely on depends on you settling for the endless stream of content they serve up, regardless of quality or care. Rope in a few big stars with huge paychecks, farm out a recycled premise to whatever AI program has supplanted screenwriters, and shove ads in every 15 minutes, all but ensuring such forgettable fluff as “Red One” or “Rebel Moon” or “Buddy Cop Template #7 With a Sci Fi-Comedy Twist” is their No. 1.

Actually choosing your own entertainment is a thumb in the eye of those asserting you’ll watch any old thing as long as it’s convenient. Curating your own movie night reclaims your power as a film fan. If you want to watch Robert Altman’s “Short Cuts,” Todd Solondz’s “Happiness,” Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rebecca,” Elaine May’s “The Heartbreak Kid,” John Waters’ “Pink Flamingos,” David Lynch’s “Wild At Heart,” Peter Jackson’s “Heavenly Creatures,” David Cronenberg’s “Crash,” or even “Cocoon” for crying out loud, you’re out of luck unless you own the DVD or Blu-Ray. Can those films wind up on a streaming service someday? Sure. But you shouldn’t have to wait for corporate permission to watch them.

Fighting for your favorite movies is worth it

As if anticipating our scrappy little collectors’ revolt, big companies are doubling down on their efforts to turn us into good little streamers. Major manufacturers are getting out of the Blu-Ray player business, while big chains have stopped selling physical media altogether. Meanwhile, streaming services have no incentive to even put their original movies and TV shows on DVD. It’s an all-out assault on film history and the nerds who care about that sort of thing.

But corporate America underestimates just how much we love the movies and TV we love. So here are some survival tips from a lifelong nerd on the physical media front line:

Build your own video store. Collecting your favorite movies is now a necessity as well as an absurdly satisfying hobby. Ebay is an option, although fellow collectors often drive up prices on coveted titles. (There are companies operating in the legal grey area that will dub out-of-print titles for you, but you definitely didn’t hear about them from me.)

The “before” photo from Dennis Perkins’ DIY project displaying his collection of DVDs. Photo courtesy of Dennis Perkins

The most rewarding source of movies are yard sales, thrift store, and flea markets. The tingly pleasure of finding a DVD spring clean-out in someone’s driveway is unmatched, and the nice old lady offering up her adult children’s abandoned attic full of rare horror special editions for a buck apiece will be delighted to be free of them. (This happened to me once and I will remember it till I die.) Sure, there’s an element of randomness to the hunt, but that’s part of the fun, too.

And once you’ve got your haul of precious faves, the fun continues in the display. I recently put up a second DVD wall in our dedicated movie room to alleviate overcrowding, and if I can do it, anybody can.

Life is hectic, hard and chaotic. An unchallenging streaming flick isn’t the worst way to decompress, and I get that. But movies mean more than that. Enjoying movies and TV that we love — when we want — is as close to an all-American virtue as there is, and doing so in defiance of the inexorable march of commerce makes the experience that much sweeter.