As we wrap up the year 2024 with one last column, it’s time yet again to take a look at the year that was in internet video and digital media. As with last year’s selections, the goal here is not a conventional “Best of the Year” ranking, as you’d see with songs or movies or TV shows. Comparing the work of different creators across various internet platforms in that way seems counter-productive, or downright impossible. Instead, I just like to focus on clips or viral moments or channels or ongoing projects that stand out as particularly notable, or speak to some larger trend in our culture or among professional creators.
Much like the sandwich itself, Silicon Valley consultant Barry Enderwick’s Instagram channel is a masterclass in simplicity. Depending on the ingredients and condiments you stick between two slices of bread, there’s a seemingly infinite possible variety of different flavors and textures. Similarly, Enderwick starts each installment of “Sandwiches of History” with the same minimalist format: he picks an old sandwich recipe, he prepares it in his home kitchen, he tries it out, and then he “pluses it up” with a new ingredient or two of his own.
There’s really nothing more to it than that. Enderwick even deploys the same patter from episode to episode, turning simple expressions like “let’s give this sandwich… a go” into the IG Reels equivalent of a hit catchphrase. In a world where so much entertainment is “high concept,” “Sandwiches of History” finds joy in the straight-forward and familiar. Sandwiches are good. Old-timey sandwiches were kind of weird, and tastes shift and change over time. There doesn’t have to be any more to it than that.
ANDREW GARFIELD ON “CHICKEN SHOP DATE” / CONAN O’BRIEN ON “HOT ONES”
If I had a nickel for every wildly popular internet chat show pivoting around the host and guest eating chicken, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s still strange that has happened more than once.
I think part of the appeal here is that you wouldn’t normally see people eating while conversing on television. Conventional wisdom says that’s kind of a poorly-chosen activity for video. It’s distracting, “eating noises” cover the dialogue, and you’re creating the possibility that talent is going to spill food on themselves or otherwise do something visually unpleasant you’ll have to cut around in post.
“Chicken Shop Date” and “Hot Ones” lean into these conflicts. They use the trappings of a meal to generate candid moments with celebrities, catching media pros off guard in a more familiar, everyday scenario than an appearance on, say, “The Tonight Show” or “The View.” It’s that much-vaunted authenticity the internet enjoys so much, and that under-30 viewers absolutely demand at all times.
Throughout Garfield’s flirty appearance on “Chicken Shop Date,” it’s impossible to tell whether or not he and host Amelia Dimoldenberg are doing a bit, experiencing a genuine real-world connection, or some overlapping combination of the two. They’re both charismatic performers! The segment feels almost like a one-act play, defying the viewer to discern for themselves where the joke ends and reality begins, like a Jiminy Glick segment if that weren’t clearly just Martin Short in a fat suit.
O’Brien’s appearance on “Hot Ones” goes completely the other way, blowing up the traditional “unscripted talk show” format with obviously pre-planned, intentionally over-the-top comedy bits. O’Brien’s antics – covering his face in spicy hot sauce, bringing in an actor as his personal physician for mid-show check-ups – essentially turns “Hot Ones” in on itself, transforming what was once a gimmicky interview show into a platform for absurdist sketch comedy. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that, just months after O’Brien’s appearance, “Hot Ones” started inviting fictional characters to drop by the studio. He opened the door.
Lots of internet creators did interesting work in the horror genre in 2024, from Markiplier’s “The Edge of Sleep” series to the twisty YouTube-exclusive found footage film “Milk & Serial.” One standout for me was the animated series Meat Canyon, which combines the plotlines of H.P. Lovecraft, the tone of “Tim and Eric’s Bedtime Stories,” and a sort of post-Mike Judge “Beavis and Butt-head” animation style.
Each episode starts with a pop culture reference or meme and then turns it into an otherworldly cosmic horror scenario. Take this recent episode, when an upstairs neighbor’s fascination with the “Hawk Tuah Podcast” takes a mysterious, sinister, and ultimately disgusting turn.
You could argue that some of these episodes are satirical to the point of being cruel to their subjects, but MeatCanyon’s work feels less about the viral personalities themselves, and more about the strangeness and darkness that lurks behind just about every aspect of modern life. Take “Chik Fil A Sauce,” which imagines a nightmare dungeon full of mutated freaks in the basement beneath the popular fast food spot. It’s an almost Lynchian look at the unspeakable horrors hiding just out of view, even in the sanitized American suburbs.
Obnoxious, self-consciously goofy families have been making viral comedy videos together for as long as the internet has existed. Remember the Holderness Family, who went mega-viral in the early ‘10s with their holiday-themed music video parodies? No? Well, I’m forcing you to remember!
But no family has ever done more with less actual material than A.J. Befumo, his son Big Justice, his daughter Ashley, and his wife Erika: aka “The Costco Family.” The Befumos all have nicknames, they performed a song about their catchphrase “BOOM!” and they enjoy (and frequently review and re-review) the food options available at Costco. This is essentially the entire bit.
Somehow – SOMEHOW – they have turned these extremely simple concepts into a legitimate cultural phenomenon. The Befumos have been on “The Tonight Show.” They’ve been parodied on “SNL.” A.J. is now an AEW wrestling personality. Plus they’re at the center of an entire extended universe of TikTok and YouTube channels, which also includes young social media breakout The Rizzler.
How has a large man and his large son saying BOOM! after eating a chocolate chunk cookie managed to remain top of mind for millions of people over the course of several months? I could not begin to tell you. This kind of staying power was once unheard of in the realm of internet virality. It would be like the “Damn Daniel” kid getting his own movie franchise.
HOLDING SPACE FOR “DEFYING GRAVITY”
You know that part in “Succession” where Kendall told his ex-wife Rava that she’s “too online” and has “lost context”? I think we all kind of feel that way in 2024, as social media discourse continues moving further and further away from any kind of objective baseline reality.
That’s especially how I feel about the very peculiar viral clip in which Out Magazine writer Tracy E. Gilchrist asks “Wicked” stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande about “Defying Gravity.” To summarize: Gilchrist says to Cynthia Erivo specifically: “I’ve seen this week people are taking the lyrics of ‘Defying Gravity’ and really holding space with that and feeling power in that.” Erivo responds: “That’s really powerful. That’s what I wanted.” As Erivo speaks, Grande seems to hold on to her finger empathetically, to provide some kind of emotional support.
If you are immersed in the world of internet “queer media,” as Gilchrist no doubt is, this exchange made practical sense. As Gilchrist later explained to The New York Times, to “hold space” simply means to take a beat, pay additional attention, and give yourself time to process some new information or something profound. So her statement was really a lead-in to asking Erivo something straight-forward: how does it feel to play a character who’s so important to queer people?
But if you are not part of this world, and have not encountered the phrase “holding space” before, the entire segment is entirely baffling and strange, which is why it went super-viral last month. Gilchrist, Erivo, and Grande have all commented on the interview and seemingly attempted to shift blame for its other-worldly peculiarity, but I think this is just how our culture works in 2024. There’s not really a “mainstream” any more. Everyone is paying attention to their own little corner of the internet and the culture, with less crosstalk than ever before.
Kids entertainer Ms. Rachel (aka Rachel Anne Accurso) is some kind of toddler genius. I have tried watching all kinds of YouTube kids content with my little nephew Dougie, and even professionally produced stuff like “Sesame Street” and “Bluey.” But nothing appeals to his 1-year-old heart and mind more than Ms. Rachel’s songs and language lessons, helpfully compiled into 1-to-2 hour YouTube mixes she has branded “Songs for Littles.”
I really enjoyed this year’s “Reading Rainbow” documentary, “Butterfly in the Sky,” which looks at how a group of educators and TV producers came together in the 1980s to reconsider children’s TV and bring a new learning-focused approach. In the present day, outside of legacy media like “Rainbow” or “Sesame Street,” it’s hard to think of a similar franchise that’s more focused on the public good than turning a profit. Kids love “Paw Patrol,” sure, but it’s about selling them toys, not teaching them anything about actually being a first responder.
And to be sure, Ms. Rachel is also selling merch through Target and Walmart these days. She’s also running a for-profit enterprise. But the spirit of her videos is definitely about enriching kids’ lives and instilling them with confidence and kindness. I genuinely believe she is a force for pure good in the world, if only because she is the only one who can stop Dougie from crying when he gets very upset and misses his parents.
MEGAN BITCHELL: REVERSE WILLIAM TELL
Comedian Megan Bitchell’s “Reverse William Tell” TikTok is exactly what the title describes. Rather than putting an apple on her head and asking friends to shoot it off with a bow and arrow – as Swiss folk hero William Tell famously did – Bitchell wears a hat with a long stick attached. Her collaborators then throw apples at her face, hoping to impale them on the stick without hitting her and causing injury.
It’s goofy and dumb, but it also exists at the exact meeting point between a sketch and a stunt. Just conceptually, it’s hard to come up with “Jackass”-level stuff like this, especially for old folks like me who came of age when “comedy sketches” and “dumb internet stunts” existed as two distinct categories of content. A visually amusing scenario like this, that you can actually accomplish at home with everyday household items, and that will genuinely make viewers not just laugh but feel included in the silliness, is a rare and special thing.
With apologies to Drake (okay, not really), Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us” might be the best and most iconic diss track of all time. The song dominated the airwaves from the summer on, providing a much-needed respite from Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso. Then the music video – which is nearing 200 million views as of publication – fueled one of 2024’s biggest viral trends: copying Kendrick Lamar’s weird little dance (courtesy of Compton choreography Charm LaDonna).
Viral dance trends are certainly nothing new online, and there were a number of them this year alone. But it’s the scale of the “Not Like Us” trend that makes it stand out. The usual TikTokers were doing the dance, sure, but so were wedding parties, and toddlers, and Janet Jackson. It was one of those rare moments when the monoculture seemingly returned for a fleeting moment, a taste of how things used to be in the “Harlem Shake” era.
OK, technically, this debuted on NBC before going online, but Lonely Island were so instrumental to the early days of YouTube… I’m going to allow it.
This year, the music and sketch comedy group returned for a few new “SNL” videos and, wow, they have still got it. Andy Samberg, Jorma Taccone, and Akiva Schaffer and their collaborators have an unerring ability to copy contemporary music and music video style with careful and delicate precision. Their zany parodies take on a life of their own because they’re so believable. With just a few content tweaks, and less goofy subject matter, these could be real contemporary songs and music videos.
“Sushi Glory Hole” is a particular delight because of Schaffer and Samberg’s note-perfect performances. The premise – two try-hard stuck in the 1980s businessmen pitching a terrible idea for a sushi app – is really not particularly funny. They just completely nail the execution, right down to Samberg’s increasingly accomplished flow. The song is an actual bop.
Australian academic and breakdancer Rachael Gunn (aka Raygun) is maybe the perfect public figure to summarize 2024: all bravado, no self-awareness. After giving a bizarre, embarrassing performance at the 2024 Summer Games that received a score of 0 from the judges, Gunn proved herself utterly incapable of laughing at herself.
While most people would have probably been tempted to concede that their internationally-televised breakdancing performance was not well-received, and maybe even respond with some self-effacing humor to let everyone know they were in on the joke, Gunn reacted defensively and even litigiously. She didn’t embrace her 15 minutes of fame, but fought against the perception that she was not a “real” breakdancer (whatever that means) and played the victim. Most recently, Gunn turned her attention toward a one-woman comedy show from Australian performer Steph Broadbridge, threatening to sue the venue and comedian for using her “intellectual property” and successfully getting the entire show – titled “Raygun: The Musical” – shut down.
It’s an instructive lesson in The Streisand Effect, the idea that pushing back against internet jokes and fighting online culture only makes whatever you’re trying to hide or cover up into more of a spectacle. If Gunn simply allowed people to make their Raygun jokes, it’s likely the world would soon be ready to move on completely. By reacting aggressively, and turning herself into the villain of the story, Gunn keeps the trend going and puts Raygun back at the top of everyone’s mind. It’s self-defeating at this point.