To my eyes, the quality of streaming high-def films (Vudu, Amazon, Warner Classics) is fully at par with Blurays. Recently a TCM Bluray of Howard Hawks‘ Only Angels Have Wings went on sale, but I can’t imagine it looking richer and more detailed than a streaming HDX copy that I bought on Vudu. What’s the point? But I can’t surrender my love of physical media. Last night I bought the Criterion Bluray of My Darling Clementine (an impulse I’m almost sorry I succumbed to, given my vague dislike of John Ford‘s Monument Valley films) and I had to buy the Bluray of Thom Andersen‘s Los Angeles Plays Itself — been waiting to own this puppy for ten years now. And I’ve always had a thing for Uli Edel and Berndt Eichinger‘s The Baader-Meinhof Complex. Will I be buying Blurays five years hence? Good question. I know that I don’t like the idea of not replenishing the library. Which probably means I’ll keep shelling out as they long as they crank ’em out.