Fannish Friday, Links Edition
Jun. 21st, 2024 11:25 amTo the Cuckoo, a crossover between Howards End and A Room With a View
Would that I lay there, for The Poe Clan
It feels good to post those! I am so out of practice. I remember that posting got easier the more that I was doing it—less anxiety about the summary or title or tags, more confidence in judging when a project is good enough to ship. I am going to keep working on rebuilding the habit.
I am a fan of a handful of YouTube video essayists. It’s not a big part of my entertainment—the publication rate for the people I watch has dropped to about one video per year, which is honestly more than reasonable when considering the amount of work that goes into producing these hour-plus videos. I watch about four long video essays a year.
I Don’t Know James Rolfe - Dan Olson
Reflecting on creative success and self-mythologies
Olson breaks down the career of one of YouTube’s biggest earlier stars, James Rolfe (The Angry Video Game Nerd), mostly through the lens of Rolfe’s self-published autobiography and a behind-the-scenes video tour of Rolfe’s recording space. This is an interestingly lo-fi premise for a YouTube takedown video. Rolfe has already had those made about him, eviscerating his business decisions and in particular focusing on a plagiarism scandal (that he has acknowledged and apologized for). Or I’ve seen people focus on Rolfe’s brand of gross-out juvenile humor, which might have been crassly funny in 2006 with his audience of mostly 13-24 year old men, but is now just kind of sad. These are both valid avenues of critique, and there are others as well, but they’ve been done before. Olson would be retreading old territory to focus on them.
The angle that he chose is so much more compelling to me because what he chooses to interrogate is not whether Rolfe’s videos are Good (he pretty easily dismisses them as bad), but what we can learn by thinking about their production. Olson is a self-identified gearhead when it comes to film equipment. He sticks on the bizarre choices that Rolfe has made in constructing the set where he records his videos: the cramped layout, the amateur camera mounts, etc. He contrasts that with standard professional practice. But as he goes along, he starts to bring in elements from the Rolfe autobiography, and you learn how Rolfe positions himself as very specifically a filmmaker, not a YouTuber. Olson’s dissection of this identity is worth watching if it sounds interesting—there’s a lot of work going into the visual representation of this argument through his shot composition.
The end result feels extremely personal. Olson doesn’t interrogate one of his YouTube peers without recognizing that the same critical lens must be applied to himself. He ends on that note in a gag sign-off, but to me, the theme was overwhelming throughout. What does it mean to have gone to film school and dreamed of your career in traditional filmmaking terms and reached success (financial stability, large audience, etc.), but on YouTube instead of in the movie industry? Olson and Rolfe are both old enough that YouTube didn’t exist when they were 18 and picking out college majors. They are not the current youngest generation of internet celebrities, who could have envisioned their career goals in terms of follower counts and specific platforms. They were inspired by examples from a fundamentally different format.
Rolfe seemingly continues to define himself against the old ways. He makes films, never mind that his features are posted directly to YouTube and are not the main attraction of his channel. Olson… it’s not as clear, except that he’s aware of this tension and recognizes himself as a YouTuber. But is that in addition to being a filmmaker? If he allows it for himself and not Rolfe, what does he see as the distinguishing factors? I don’t think he should have presented an answer to those questions, so I’m glad that he didn’t—it would invite unnecessary drama into what is much more interesting as an open question about the myths we construct around ourselves.