I don’t know James Rolfe, but maybe I can better know myself
Yesterday, a YouTube video made me feel something. Being candid, I watch entirely too much YouTube: photography and technology review videos, research on new hobbies, and long essays on various bits of history and pop culture that really only vaguely land inside my realm of interest. Seldom do these many consumed videos provoke an emotional response.
Dan Olson’s “I Don’t Know James Rolfe” truly touched me. After finishing watching it (more than once now), it seems like Dan began this video as an examination of what’s happened to the YouTuber and filmmaker James Rolfe and his Angry Video Game Nerd/Cinemassacre channel over the years, but as the piece formed Dan was able to notice and tease apart deeper observations than he anticipated. A view into James’ career and creative ambitions begins to form, but over the video’s runtime it becomes clear Dan is also reflecting on and searching his own feelings about creativity and filmmaking, not just James’.
A few things stood out to me from the video:
It might be easy to describe James as stuck in his creative endeavors. Per his own autobiography, he still thinks back to and compares his modern YouTube videos to partially-finished childhood backyard movies or college projects, despite having made so much “professional progress” since then as the creator and longtime star/showrunner of the Angry Video Game Nerd.
A subset of AVGN fans are clearly upset with James’ output as his channel has progressed, but the more Dan reads from James’ autobiography, the blurrier our view of how James feels about his own career becomes. Is he resentful toward AVGN “needing” to stay the same on account of fan expectations? Does he wish he could’ve moved on and done more creatively? Is he just grateful to have a job that provides for his family and involves filmmaking, even if it’s on YouTube?
Throughout the video, Dan is drawn to a stupefying aspect of James’ current filmmaking: the cramped “AVGN Basement” set, complete with its jerry-rigged light stands, scrap wood tripod heads, et al. From our viewpoint at the end of Dan’s reflections, this is one of the main “hooks” that pulls him in deeper and provides the clearest potential window into James’ outlook or situation. One where he might be frustrated; short on time, energy, funds, and space.
Dan describes these befuddling decisions in James’ set as clear hacks to solve specific problems, but also as potential inefficiencies or distractions. Small and solvable enough problems in isolation, but taken all together could feel intertwined and big in a way that adds up to a sort of creative technical debt. The kind that might eventually drag down on someone’s ambition and leave them feeling mired, pulled down by many small things in life.
The whole video felt relatable to me, but especially the points where Dan focused on the visibly built up, habitually inefficient cruft that might weigh down someone’s life. This deeply struck me with personal parallels. Creative ambitions I’ve harbored all these years to apply myself as a blogger, a photographer, a streamer, maybe a youtuber or filmmaker myself. Remnants of these lie scattered in my brain, but also in the technical ephemera around the office where I was watching Dan’s reflection.
These leftover bits and bobs are reminders of years spent thinking if I could just solve this or just overcome that, then I’d surely be in a good spot to unlock the creative potential I might be harboring up inside my brain. Hell, just earlier the same day I was goofing around with a digital camera I’ve had since I was 15 years old, attempting to see if maybe it could still serve some creative purpose. For some reason I’m typing this text on a slightly broken laptop of similar age, despite having numerous newer computers I could be working from.
Am I being thrifty, jerry-rigging together a suite of still usable tools and thought patterns for creativity? Or am I hanging onto bits of old gear and long dead ambitions? Would de-cluttering my environment, goals, and the things allowed into my mental state make space for putting my energy into something truly meaningful?
I’m glad to be thinking on it. Because I certainly don’t know James Rolfe’s thoughts on creativity in his life, but maybe I still have a chance at figuring out my own.
~Mike