Saving Scarecrow: Film as a Cultural Resource

Supporters of one of Seattle’s cultural treasures are working to save it from extinction: Scarecrow Video, a library of 149,309 titles that represent a large piece of the American and some of the International cinematic canon. Its name, Scarecrow, is symbolic: suggesting the need to ward off the threat of insufficient resources to guarantee its future.  

SOS stands for the Save-Our-Scarecrow campaign to raise $1.8 million to form the foundation upon which the non-profit can stand long-term. Kate Bara, Scarecrow’s manager, is encouraged by the early support the fund drive has attracted. She is encouraged because “We have the chance to tell our story to the broader community. Scarecrow is a cultural resource. Its videos capture pictures and stories of who we are, as a people, and who we want to be.” 

On one level, people rent DVDs for entertainment. Students and researchers also use the collection for research. A recent article in the University of Washington magazine, by Shin Yu Pai, recounted examples of how U-Dub students tapped Scarecrow’s collection for material for their capstone projects. 

One can imagine a high school history class viewing a DVD film such as Schindler’s List as it studies fascism and antisemitism in mid-20^th century Europe. Mid-century American movies offer a wealth of depictions of racism and sexism, as well as a record of clothing fashions and social mores. The research value of Scarecrow’s collection is endless.

Scarecrow’s international sections may be not as large but they are as rich a source of entertainment as information. When someone asked a Scarecrow staffer for the Taiwanese section, he was asked “By country or director?” The name Hou Hsaio-Hsien rolled effortlessly off his tongue as he gestured toward the directors’ section. 

Scarecrow’s staff is another critical asset. To a person they are friendly and helpful. My legs don’t take easily to the stairs leading to the second floor, but staffers on more than one occasion offer to go up and fetch the requested DVD. The staff are loyal veterans, and Bara says the average tenure is 12 years, and some (“five or six)” have been there at least 20 years. 

Scarecrow is in the University District, on Roosevelt Way Northeast just north of N.E. 50th Street. It moved there in 1993 from its initial 1988 location on Latona Avenue. George Lapsios and his wife Rebecca operated the for-profit business. To stave off financial ruin, Scarecrow went into bankruptcy in 1998. Two Microsoft “angels” came to the rescue. In 2014, the plan to go non-profit included proposals to run Scarecrow from three different groups. The owners chose the employee group over outsiders. 

“Our inventory,” Bara notes, “is larger than Netflix, Amazon, and Apple TV combined.” Bara can state with assurance that Scarecrow’s collection is among the largest in the U.S.A. 

By the beginning of October, Scarecrow’s SOS campaign had raised about one-third of its goal. “Our landlord has said we can stay here for two years,” Bara said. “After that, at some point we will need a new space.”

The campaign has attracted some 5,000 donations and membership subscriptions. “That’s good but we really need some major donors,” Bara said. They are working with a consultant to develop new messaging focused on Scarecrow as a cultural asset. “One foundation we applied to told us ‘We don’t fund video stores.’”  

A collector recently donated 11,000 titles, 9,700 of which Bara characterized as “great.” Many were new titles, along with many  duplicates. “This allows us to hold the duplicates so we have them to replace those DVDs that wear out.”

For today’s and future generations, Scarecrow’s collection must be saved, nurtured, and protected. Its current SOS campaign is a sensible and feasible pathway to that end.