With all of the desirable titles being released every Tuesday on home video, going to the movies has more often than not become anticlimactic.

Why hazard long lines and fork over steep concession fees on top of a $10 ticket to watch stupefying garbage when you can invite Carole Lombard or Sam Fuller into your living room? Not that I want to sour you on the movie-going experience, but for the same amount of money you can try your luck with three DVD rentals. Chances are at least one of the trio is bound to be better than X-Men or A Prairie Home Companion.

Call me old fashioned, but browsing Web pages for movie rentals that arrive in an anonymous mailer simply doesn’t cut it. I need to personally examine the cover art, and I prefer perusing store shelves over clicking “next.”

My Blockbuster card was torched the day they branded Scorsese’s Last Temptation of Christ morally undesirable filth and refused to carry the film. Questioning organized religion is intolerable, but it’s OK to offer countless rows of slasher films and every one of the Porky’s sequels. They quickly followed this disgrace by offering edited-down versions of Last Tango in Paris and other racier R-rated titles. Even though the company has changed hands several times, Blockbuster forever broke me of the habit of chain video stores.

In a city renowned for its weather-less climate that begs locals to stay outdoors, it’s surprising that San Diego plays home to three world-class rental outlets.

4067 Adams Ave.

(619) 284-2477

The 4000 block of Adams Avenue is easily the hub of cinematic fortification in San Diego. Not only does it house the fabulous Ken Cinema, our town’s precious single-screen palace, it is also home to one of the finest video emporiums this side of Facets in Chicago or Eddie Brandt’s Saturday Matinee in Burbank.

With over 30,000 titles to choose from, the family-run Kensington Video boasts the most comprehensive catalog in town. Need to re-examine the episode of “The Jack Benny Program” with Peter Lorre? How about a reel of breathtaking stop-motion animation from Russian master Ladislaw Starevich? Go deep in the back room and you’ll uncover the entire Russ Meyer catalog. If you can’t find it here, chances are it doesn’t exist on home video.

The staff knows their stuff and should be assigned roller skates to navigate the catacombs that lodge the mammoth collection. Who needs to belong to a health club when they can work at Kensington Video?

After six years, I was finally afforded a guided tour through the magic door. With its rows and rows of numbered black-plastic shells, divided only by a small path between the stacks for employees to navigate, it feels like the ultimate vidiot’s apartment.

The highlight of any visit to the store is going a few rounds with the Queen of Kensington, Winnie Hanford. Looking slightly less menacing than Mrs. Santa Clause, Winnie literally put the “mom” in “mom and pop” video store. Initially, her no-nonsense deportment was harder to crack than their sacred stockroom.

For years, they had a crazy-in-love kid named Sean who worked the counter. Sean knew his stuff and always tipped me to outstanding features that flew beneath my radar. I loved talking movies with him. Even when it was slow, Winnie vocally discouraged our incessant dialogue. She was like the warden after “lights out” was called. Even the hint of a whisper was verboten.

Winnie eventually thawed; I now spend more time in one visit gabbing with her than I ever did talking to Sean. If you really want a shock, ask Winnie who her favorite actor is. Brace yourself for a verbal love-letter to the master of inarticulate inexpressiveness, Charles Bronson. And I’m not talking Once Upon a Time in the West. Wait ’til you hear Winnie extol his later work for Canon Films.

Kensington does have a couple of minor drawbacks. The store inventory is not online and, given the massive amount of titles, it would be nice for duffers to have a way to electronically cross-reference actors and directors.

They are also slow when it comes to upgrading from VHS to DVD. If they own a title on VHS, it could take months, in some cases years, before they get around to making the change. Finally, a warning to first-time visitors: Before venturing in, make sure you have at least an hour or two to kill.

3026 Midway Dr.

(619) 224-0900

Those of you who drive past Blowout Video, spot the Déjà Vu strip club sign and keep going, need to take a closer look. Blowout shares its space with Déjà Vu’s corporate offices, and instead of a neighborhood titty bar or another branch of F Street, you will be delighted to find the largest selection of DVDs for rent anywhere in San Diego County.

The staff is nowhere near as knowledgeable as Kensington’s, and when it comes to searching out a film at Blowout, you’re pretty much on your own. If the title is in their computer, the staff will point you in the direction of the shelf, but unlike Kensington or Citizen Video, chances are they won’t be able to tell you much about the movie beyond the box description.

Of the three stores, Blowout is the only one that sells new and used DVDs. If you are in the habit of visiting the overpriced Tower Records for new releases, I suggest you stop at the nearby Blowout first. They sell almost as many new releases and their prices are competitive. Several weekends each year, they turn their parking lot into a sidewalk sale and offer ridiculously low prices on literally thousands of used DVDs.

Blowout also has one section that the competition doesn’t. Hang a right at the front counter, pass through the swinging doors marked “Adults Only” and you’ll find a virtual cornucopia of smut for sale and rent. They even boast a decent collection of GLBT titles. Perhaps it’s best that Kensington doesn’t deal in porno. I wouldn’t have the nerve to ask kindly old Winnie if She Said ‘Blow Me’ was in stock.

2207 Fern St.

(619) 281-FILM

I must confess a vested interest in Citizen Video. A friend and former MoPA co-worker kept threatening that his girlfriend was going to open a specialty video store in town. Late last year I got the call to help stock the pond with quality art, independent and foreign titles not available at your local chain stores. No shelves filled with 50 unrented copies of Benchwarmers, and Spielberg is definitely not spoken at Citizen Video.

Store owner Holly Jones fell in love with Alphaville Video, a rental store in Albuquerque, N.M., and used it as her template for South Park’s Citizen Video. She wanted a video store where titles were shelved by director and country, not genre or under the nebulous heading of “Critic’s Pick.” While the store has the smallest inventory of the three profiled here – they have just fewer than 2,000 titles in stock – this is a shining example of quality over quantity.

Rest assured that all of your favorite independent filmmakers are represented, in addition to plenty of titles that you missed when they played Landmark. If Kensington is a bit overwhelming and Blowout somewhat scattered, Citizen Video’s smaller stock allows them to focus on high-end, critically acclaimed selections from around the world. If you are going to take a chance on unfamiliar material, this is the store to browse.

Poke around and you’ll find African filmmaker Ousmane Sembene’s groundbreaking Black Girl and DVD copies of many Les Blank documentaries. (Kensington also stocks these titles, but only on VHS.)

Some of Citizen’s more eclectic offerings include a full line of experimental films released by Peripheral Produce and a section devoted to surf and skate movies. Holly listens to her customers’ advice and recently purchased a slew of incredible films from Korea.

For the past 25 years, the movie-going experience has been in a constant state of redefinition. At least the ’50s offered a wider canvas and an occasional visit to the third-dimension. What was once looked upon as an evening out is now a trip to a video store (or online) and two hours in front of the tube.

As a teen, my parents yelled: “What’s with all this going to the movies? Why don’t you read a book?” At least I left the house to be entertained. My kids, if I had any, would have been told to put down their video games and go out to a movie. What is the war cry of today’s parent’s? “Why are you watching a movie on a five-inch iPod when you can use the plasma screen in your bedroom?”

Until it gets to the point where you can order whatever you want whenever you want it via your computer, you will not go hungry for quality video in San Diego.