The Shortfalls of Short-Form Content
The name David Dobrik sends a shiver down my spine. In his Vine days, I used to be enamoured with him and this circle of friends he had in Chicago. As a group, they were funny and imaginative, playing off each other for content and clout. Consequently, Dobrik and his “Vlog squad” skyrocketed to notoriety on the platform, reigning supreme as a few of the most-liked and most-viewed creators. When Vine died in 2016 (RIP), Dobrik was left with a choice: to continue into stardom on another platform, or give up the throne. By choosing the former, he took a huge risk – one which cemented a fall from grace, and the proverbial signing of his (friend’s) death warrant. But why did his choice lead to the almost complete failure of many of his famous followers’ careers?
For those of you who have forgotten the brilliance of Vine (and who didn’t spend half your childhood watching Jay Versace and Enjajaja vine compilations), I’ll quickly clue you in. Ruled by still-trending names like Dobrik, Jake and Logan Paul, Curtis Lepore, Thomas Sanders, Lele Pons and KingBach, the app monopolised short-form content. Musical.ly before Musical.ly, if you will. Limiting all creators to original audios and seven second clips, it forced you to be funny fast. For a brief but blissful time, it became the go-to social media app for being adless and sponsorless.
When Vine was shut down, viners had no choice but to flee the grave of their beloved app. They had to adapt and move on, and do so quickly. Most of them moved to Youtube, which is where the first problem began. It’s pretty difficult to be problematic in seven seconds, but with the unlimited time allowance Youtube had to offer, suddenly these ex-viners were showing sides of themselves never before seen. The example that comes to mind first is the Vlog Squad. Mostly composed of David Dobrik, Zane Hijazi, Heath Hussar, Alex Ernst, Liza Koshy, Gabbie Hanna, Jason Nash, Scotty Sire and Toddy Smith, the Vlog Squad was one of the biggest groups reigning over Youtube in 2018. However, a group with so many members must be a house of cards, especially when the friends are media personalities. Through breakups and broken laws, the Squad saw many of these members flee to safety or be quietly excommunicated. Dom Zeglaitis, “Durte Dom”, was filmed (allegedly) sexually assaulting a fan by an encouraging Dobrik during one of Dobrik’s posted videos, and Gabbie Hanna was seen very publicly battling mental health struggles, worrying audiences of millions of people. I’m a strong believer that these occurrences were consequences of Dobrik’s caricaturisation of every member of the Squad. He forced his disciples into roles that aligned somewhat with their media personas, by blowing a specific aspect out of proportion and cementing their reliance on Dobrik for their following.
Jeff Wittek, a later addition of the Vlog Squad in early 2019, was labelled by Dobrik as the “ex-con”, having previously served time for drug-related offences. Despite having his own Youtube show called “Jeff’s Barbershop”, Wittek’s following was not enough to be Dobrik’s equal. This meant that Wittek was subservient to Dobrik. Dobrik at the time was still chasing the clickbait, quick-laugh nature ofVvine. He used the same media tools and techniques, and so he asked many of his disciples to engage in “pranks”, and stunts that he thought would draw audiences in and keep them watching for four minutes and twenty seconds. Of course, these “pranks” often went too far, and landed Dobrik in a lot of hot water. Consequently, he lost many high profile, long-term sponsorships from companies such as DoorDash and SeatGeek, and was ostracised from the celebrity “friends” who had occasionally appeared on his vlogs.
Dobrik knew his fame was dwindling, and so decided to do something big. However, this didn’t have its desired consequences. In a video titled “My truth” posted on the 21st March 2021, Jeff Wittek attempted to distance himself from the Vlog Squad, and revealed that he had been in a bad accident during filming for one of Dobrik’s vlogs. For a while, rumours swirled about exactly what had happened, until the 18th April 2021, when Wittek released his three-part documentary called “Don’t Try This at Home”. In the video, he explained an accident in which he broke parts of his face and skull, requiring extensive surgery. The accident occurred when Dobrik was operating an excavator on a shallow lake – swinging Wittek around at roughly 60 mph before abruptly stopping. Wittek consequently crashed into the side of the heavy vehicle and wound up in intensive care with permanent brain damage. According to Casey Neistat’s “Under the Influencer” documentary, which explained the accident, Dobrik claimed to be covering Wittek’s medical costs. However, Wittek later revealed that he had received neither a text nor money from Dobrik after a significant optic surgery. In more recent news, Jeff Wittek has begun fighting a court case for compensation over his injuries, and seems to be building a more supportive friendship group for himself. David Dobrik has yet to make a return to Youtube, and now appears only fleetingly in the occasional sponsored Snapchat post.
Other ex-viners had a similar fall from grace. Logan Paul suffered the same ailment as David Dobrik – searching for hard-hitting, quick-reaction content to fill his Youtube videos after moving platforms. On a trip to Japan in December 2017, a part of him thought it was a really good idea to film and post a dead body on his Youtube channel. He was visiting the Aokigahara Forest – otherwise known as the “suicide” forest – and documented the entire experience of stumbling upon and ridiculing the deceased for the world to see. His dependency on shocking content outraged the world, and continues to leave a bad taste in the mouths of many of the social media generations.
What Logan Paul’s case highlights is a further problem with the fall of viners; the ex-viners’ audiences grow old with them, but their tools and techniques, and approaches to content creation, do not. Both Paul and Dobrik boasted a large proportion of adolescent viewers on Vine, but their Youtube content attracts children. They use the same media techniques that grasp the attention of young audiences on Youtube, but do not resonate with any of their older followers from their Vine days. It means that their brand loyalty is non-existent. Any money spent on merch and extra content comes directly from parents’ wallets, and thus when the creators are as controversial as Paul and Dobrik, adults become reluctant to shell out. Youtube quickly becomes unsustainable as long as these tired techniques are used, this idolatry by their fan base can only last so long as the sponsorships continue to pull out.
It is important to note that some ex-viners made it out alive, like Cody Ko and Danny Gonzales. However, most of them have retired from public life and social media, and taken the substantial earnings from Vine with them. But through Dobrik and Paul’s legacies, the road to redemption through Youtube becomes rocky. In chasing the life Vine provided them with, ex-viners participate in their own downfall – because Youtube and TikTok are not Vine. Seven-second videos are usually harmless, and tend to go viral without celebrity and brand loyalty attached. But Youtube, where your number of subscribers dictates all, is an entirely different app, and an entirely different game.
I must say, this article was inspired by the absolutely brilliant video essay of the Vlog Squad lore by Nicole Rafiee on Youtube – it’s a worthwhile watch if you’re hooked by the Jeff Wittek/Gabbie Hanna complexities. She goes into a lot more detail than my word count allows me to. If you’ve got an hour to spare, The Cult of David Dobrik: How to Keep a Group Obedient is my favourite Youtube video essay ever made.