In the information age, aren’t surprises great? Though the film may have premiered to some lukewarm reviews, everyone lost their collective stuff earlier this year when it was announced the low-key, somewhat-anticipated horror movie “The Woods” was, in fact, a Blair Witch sequel. The announcement came so close to the release of the film that there was no time for rampant speculation on the plot; no time for myriad spoiler leaks and internet debates; just enough time for audiences to go in naïve to the story and soak up the pure experience of it.

In terms of horror franchises, Phantasm has had one of the more protracted—and interesting—histories. When it hit screens in 1979, Phantasm was unlike anything many audiences had seen outside the realm of Eraserhead. The story of two brothers trying to outwit an evil mortician resurrecting the dead for use in extradimensional slave labor, the film worked according to its’ own dream logic and eschewed the rising slasher trend in favor of eerie, trance-like sequences.

Mention the name Herman Raucher to most people today, and they’ll probably respond with a blank stare—perhaps ask if he’s a politician, or a German philosopher, or maybe an athlete on a team you don’t follow in a sport that isn’t really your scene. That’s a shame—because forty years ago, in that fantastically turbulent era we’ve only ever been able to explain as “the seventies,” Herman Raucher was one of the names in popular entertainment. Few celebrities today can boast of the success he enjoyed—the 1971 film Summer of ’42, penned by Raucher and based on his own adolescence, became a cultural touchstone that won an Oscar and was the 6th highest grossing film of the year.

In an age that’s become defined by rapidly changing technology and fly-by-night dot—com startups, perhaps no other business has had so short a shelf life, yet so big an impact, as the video store. The era of the rental chain was relatively short, especially if you only consider the years that it really enjoyed as a cultural mainstay. Though mom and pop stores became a localized phenomenon in the late 80s, the ritual of Friday night at the video store didn’t really develop until the early 90s; by the time Netflix delivered its’ billionth DVD in 2007, Blockbuster and Hollywood Video had already ceased to be places of any significance for anyone but those who’d grown up with them.