Introduction

In a promotional interview with Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck, the three main characters of the Internet series, Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared (dir. Sloan & Pelling), one concluding question was posed to Roy, the father of Yellow Guy, supposedly present for the entire interview yet completely silent throughout. “Do you have anything to add?” the interviewer asks. Roy responds, “My silly boy has allowed his eyes to grow arrogant and rude, for this I will take him on a trip to punish land” (Pritchard, 2016, para. 19). Some reading this may think that this is the most cryptic answer to anything, ever. But those people would be unfamiliar with the entirety of DHMIS.

British animators Becky Sloan and Joseph Pelling created the nonsensical, transgressive series in 2011 and released the final episode in 2016. Featuring two puppets (Yellow Guy and Duck) and an actor in a full-size red costume, Red Guy, and set in a cartoon-like house, without proper attention, the series could be confused for an innocent children’s show. But, according to Barbosa (2017), DHMIS is a “surrealist parody” of children’s television (p. 39), done in horrific fashion. The aloofness of the series’ meaning is subject to myriad fan theories, posted throughout YouTube, Reddit, and Fandom Wikia, and there seems to not be a great deal of consistency. The three (to possibly five - see endnote) bonus videos, produced by the same creators, however, help to narrow the possibility of meaning. Likewise, Roy’s answer to the interviewer’s question is, in fact, more enlightening than confusing. But what can it teach us?

That is the purpose of this critical essay, which started off as a joke but has evolved into an investigation of meaning, identity, power, and the oppositional forces that we must utilize to achieve our own liberation from the suppressive corporatist forces that wish to exploit us. In this essay, I will demonstrate the critical-rhetorical pedagogical value (Ott & Burgchardt, 2013, p. 130) presented in Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared to set the viewer free, emancipating them from the “punish land” and the vapidity of a manipulated and plugged-in life.

In my argument for the pedagogical value of this extremely important artifact, I will explain the creators’ employment of light/dark archetypal metaphors (Osborn, 1967, p. 331) for revealing the intentions of the many vague characters; I will explain the creators’ constitution of the narrative form (Fisher, 1984, p. 266), to present their anti- corporatist moral argument; I will explain the use of ideographs in order to free the viewer from his or her “conditioning” (McGee, 1980, p. 468); and, finally, I will explain the creators’ attempt at consciousness-raising (Campbell, 2002, p. 592) and its effect on the message of the film. Alas, the critical analysis.

Critical Analysis

Light/Dark

The understanding of the light/dark archetypal metaphor is ubiquitous throughout rhetoric. According to Osborn (1967), the employment of the light/dark metaphor in rhetoric is to demonstrate the “varying degrees” (p. 331) of their representations. Set innocuously in a cartoonish and, at a glance, enchanting house, the supposed tone is invitingly light. Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck are visited in each episode by a new character who acts as a teacher. Once appearing, their teacher takes them on a transgressive and usually violent journey, whether it is through a completely animated trip to space, a flight through the sky leading to the initiation of a cult, or even a gruesome cooking show. These journeys, to Osborn (1967), are the unknown, and the characters are “reduced to a helpless state, no longer able to control the world” around them (p. 331). According to Barbosa (2017), the graphic imagery of gore causes “errors in data processing” to “evoke a feeling of volatility and unpredictability” in the viewer (p. 42). The journeys vary in their events and in their animation style, but each new environment represents the evil dark, the unknown, and certainly, the fear instilled by being helpless.

There are a few specific instances of the light/dark metaphor that help to understand the meaning poured into DHMIS. Aside from the ambiguous journeys led by a teacher, throughout the series much more about the three main characters’ situation is revealed. In the first episode (Sloan & Pelling, 2011), on their very first journey, their teacher - a sentient notepad (according to Stoltz, 2015, p. 2, named “Paige”) - takes them on a psychedelic trip, established already as the dark unknown. But, there is another layer revealed: on that first journey, the characters are digitalized and the angle of the shot pans to display cameras, lights, and directors’ chairs, as if the characters were just on a set of a room in a house.

Throughout the entirety of the series, about which The Film Theorists (2016) excellently explain, it is slowly revealed to the viewer that Red Guy, Yellow Guy, and Duck are actors on a corrupt syndicated children’s television show. Therefore, not only is each torturous journey (led by their transgressive teacher) within the canon of the supposed broadcasted episode, the disintegration of an ostensibly welcoming TV show into a panic-inducing horror film leads the characters to discover that the very production of the children’s show is completely corrupted by an unseen producer. This is represented by the malicious themes of each episode, together constituting the series’ overarching dark journey.

Much of what happens in DHMIS is the characters getting tortured. For instance, Yellow Guy drowns in oil (Sloan & Pelling, 2016) and Duck consciously watches his intestines being eaten from him by a giant can (b. Sloan & Pelling, 2015). The creators of the series did not just want to make a “panic-inducing nightmare,” as Driggs et al. (2016) puts it, but rather, they wanted to “elicit significant value responses” with their graphic scenes and imagery of light versus dark (Osborn, 1967, p. 331).

The best example of this throughout the series is in episode four (Sloan & Pelling, 2015), dubbed “Computers,” in which the main characters are, once again, digitally converted and transported into the matrix. Moreaz (2017) argues that this episode is mainly critiquing the Internet’s amplification of “social isolation behavior, narcissism, [and] deflection” (p. 2), whereas the characters are presented with just three utilities for the Internet: according to Moreaz (2017), those three doors represent misinformation, exaggerated virtual identities, and even Internet addiction (p. 9-11). Perhaps the creators, with their series, wish to argue that broadcast media and online new media is “hypnotizing” children, as the Indonesian scholar Sumadiria puts it (Moreaz, 2017, p. 9), or just how “pointless” the Internet can be (Stoltz, 2015, p. 2). However, in examining this episode through the concept of light and dark archetypal metaphors, this hypnotic digital journey has a degree of “inevitability” (Osborn, 1967, p. 332). Inevitability, that is, that this computerized “punish land” will happen to you.

Moral Argument

Utilizing the light/dark archetypal metaphor revolved around a corrupt children’s television show, it is clear that the creators had a message. However, in the series’ narrative form, the creators are allotted additional opportunities to craft a moral argument (Fisher, 1984, p. 262). Utilizing the narrative form, in which probability and fidelity will be analyzed, and having released the entire series not through a distributor but on the streaming platform YouTube, this section will look directly at the moral argument attempted to be relayed through DHMIS.

Firstly, within the narrative form, the plot and events must be coherent. This, according to Fisher (1984), is called “narrative probability” (p. 263). It would be improper to say that everyone featured in the series is coherent, as, in episode three (b. Sloan & Pelling, 2014), a butterfly arrives to take Yellow Guy on a journey, and Yellow Guy misidentifies the butterfly as “a little baby pigeon,” while Duck calls it a “pesky bee.” However, throughout the six episodes and (a majority of) the bonus content, a coherent narrative is formed, despite being “portrayed in a nonsense way” (Barbosa, 2017, p. 39).

Here, it is important to reiterate the significance of The Film Theorists’ (2016) examination video in uncovering the plot and rectifying the non-chronological sequence of events in the series. Throughout the series, as explained earlier, the viewer discovers that the main characters unwittingly act in a children’s television show. As the characters start to realize that they are being tortured and manipulated, they start to push back against their producer: Red Guy leaves the show at the end of episode four (Sloan & Pelling, 2015) and Duck is killed after dissenting in episode five (b. Sloan & Pelling, 2015). Red Guy, the original creator of the show, literally unplugs the show when Roy reveals himself to be the producer – and corrupter – in episode six (Sloan & Pelling, 2016), finally putting an end to the characters’ torture. The final shot in the series shows the three main characters sitting in a carbon copy of the original set, but in lighter pastel tones. The show is finally out from under control, and the story concludes.

Just as there is a coherent narrative probability throughout the plot of the series, the characters have relatable experiences. Fisher (1984) calls this “narrative fidelity” (p. 263). Fictional characters’ fidelity is determined by the “degree of their authorship... and of their own deeds” (p. 269). Although not everyone can relate to almost being initiated into a cult, or being consumed from inside-out, some may be familiar with getting so frustrated that they storm out of the room, out of the production, as Duck did in episode five. Unfortunately for Duck, his steadfast decision led ultimately to his gruesome fate (b. Sloan & Pelling, 2015). In this murder scene, according to Barbosa (2017), the viewer watches “from the point of view of the characters” in order to add “suspense and terror” (p. 42). The decisions that the characters make are made more realistic by the film style despite the ludicrous situations, once again, aimed at eliciting an emotional response when faced with these types of transgressive and manipulative situations.

The moral argument that the creators have made reconceptualizes “validity, reason, and rationality” (Fisher, 1984, p. 266). When Red Guy unplugs the show in episode six (Sloan & Pelling, 2016), he cuts ties with the corruptive influence of Roy and he is able to restart the show on his own. As The Film Theorists (2016) explain, this is entirely representative of the creators’ choice to air the series on YouTube, on which anyone can upload without corporate and corruptive restrictions. Fisher (1984) maintains that this type of argument must be aimed at “untrained thinkers” (p. 269), and there is no better place to find these people than on YouTube. Through the platform, the creators skipped “punish land” altogether.

Ideographs of Conditioning

The creators of DHMIS have clear opinions on other media content providers. The use of ideographs, symbolic representations of ideology (McGee, 1980, p. #), amplify the creators’ anti-corporatist argument. For these, it becomes more clear in the bonus content. In two promotional videos, entitled “Help” and “Help 2” (Don’t Hug Me .I’m Scared, 2010; Don’t Hug Me .I’m Scared, 2014), the three main characters are extorted by a money monster, demanding more money. In McGee’s (1980) words, money is the “high-order abstraction representing collective commitment to a particular but equivocal and ill-defined normative goal” (p. 476) within the realm of DHMIS.

Their society is much like that of ours, and in episode six, before the start of production of his show, Red Guy awakens from a dream at a desk in a cubicle. He leaves this and performs the song from the first episode of the series – Red Guy’s pilot episode – at a bar and he signs a deal with Roy (Sloan & Pelling, 2016). The obsession with money, much like in most modern countries, according to episode six, is what constitutes power in their world. The Film Theorists (2016) explain that, in selling his show to Roy, Red Guy has sold out his values and message.

The role of media, particularly on children and specifically through the Internet, in exerting control is a major theme along with the unquenchable pursuit of money. McGee (1980) explains that “social control... is control over consciousness” (p. 468). In particular, in episode three, in which Yellow Guy is almost initiated into a cult (b. Sloan & Pelling, 2014), social control is disguised as love, solidarity, and friendship. Although left to interpretation, which will be addressed posthaste, The Film Theorists (2016) argue that the cult represents the mainstream mass media, specifically aimed to brainwash children. The very programs meant to entertain and bring joy to children are being corrupted by the influence of money – by those who control the networks and the stations.

In terms of ideographs and power, the producers of Red Guy’s show are “agencies of control” that condition the audience (McGee, 1980, p. 469). For example, in episode six (Sloan & Pelling, 2016), Red Guy leaves the set of his final day at the show and enters a dimly-lit control room. Upon pushing random buttons, Red Guy discovers that this machine controls everything that happens in the show, from its product placement of Roy’s Oats (The Film Theorists, 2016) to the different transgressive teachers that appear. The character whom this influences most is Yellow Guy, still trapped in his father’s production, and Yellow Guy is visited by myriad horrifying teachers in Red Guy’s experimental button-pushing on the control dashboard. Yellow Guy is not only the sole character to not have his own fidelity, instead prisoner to Roy’s will, but he is also representative of the intended audience of the show: children strapped watching and putty in the networks’ grip. According to McGee (1980), conditioning media must “be effective on the whole community” (p. 476). In this episode, however, Red Guy is able to break free of Roy’s influence and free his two counterparts in the process.

DHMIS itself as a series, in the words of McGee (1980), is important not “because of [its] fiction, [its] connection to poetic, but because of [its] truth, [its] links with the trick-of-the-mind that deludes individuals into believing that they ‘think’ with/for/through a social organism” (p. 476). With a viewership of over thirty million (Coldwell, 2016, para. 3), Sloan and Pelling’s message against corporate conditioning is far- and wide-reaching.

Consciousness-Raising

The ability for the creators to publish their corpora-critical and get millions of views is a logical goal for their message. In publishing anti-corporate content, the creators are dissenting against the suppressive powers by which they are dominated. Campbell (2002) discusses this at length in discussing “consciousness-raising” (p. 592). While in many instances the characters denied agency and are actively suppressed (p. 595), the ability to publish the series on a (near-)gatekeeper-free streaming service allowed the creators to subvert the suppressive powers of corporate networks and content providers. The creators utilized “rhetoric as self-creation” (Campbell, 2002, p. 601), in order to create a discourse of a new identity. A new identity that is not controlled by the corporations, just as Red Guy breaks free in episode six. Along with the content of the series, the utilization of YouTube rather than selling to a studio, the commitment to consciousness-raising within the entire project is clear.

DHMIS is so popular simply because it is so elusive and completely up for interpretation. With the consciousness-raising it aims to create, the series is best described as “an epistemic stance based on shared experience, participatory interaction in arriving at conclusions, strategic indirection in presenting evidence and argument, and conversation as the predominant mode through which influence occurs” (Campbell, 2002, p. 603-604). The very existence of the series, with its enigmatic meaning, is a group experience, bringing not only the characters together, but all of the viewers as well.

The consciousness so raised throughout the series is entirely anti-corporation. The influence of Roy over Red Guy’s show is heavy-handed, and Roy is solely intent on punishing those who think of straying from his station or his brand of taking in money. Just as Red Guy was able to “exploit the crevices” of the corporate puppetmasters, the creators of the series were able to broadcast their true message without the corruption of giant media companies altogether.

Conclusion

In the series DHMIS, the creators intended to teach us many things, including being wary of our digital surroundings and paying attention to the forces who wish to control us. But most importantly, DHMIS teaches us that we are the masters of our own destiny, and that there are more ways to live life than just making money.

In researching this project, it was clear that this subject has not been broached by many academic writers, and many of the academic articles that were utilized were translated into English from their original language. This subject is likely more suited to literary criticism, yet the series is worthy of any type of intellectual criticism that one may do. Although the academic field is lacking in this particular artifact, I hope that this serious paper and investigation, as well as the new short film that premiered at Sundance 2019 (Fienberg, 2019) inspires others to look more closely at this magnificent series. As far as the meaning for the new episode, we will just have to wait for it to be fully released to the public, although, this time, it may very well be right on your TV.

Who knows if what the creators mean to teach us will come to fruition or not. Are we already stuck in a “punish land,” despite barely scratching the surface of technology, even with the development of AI, AR, and VR? Will we ever be able to overthrow our oppressors? Well, whatever your opinion, it is untenable to live under tyranny, whether from the state or from corporation. Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared encourages us to look a bit more closely at our own situations, and to fight back against injustice. Through cryptic and spine-chilling messaging, it asks us just one thing: Do we wish to remain in punish land?

Endnote

See the three confirmed bonus videos as (Don’t Hug Me .I’m Scared, 2014; b. Don’t Hug Me .I’m Scared, 2014; and b. I ‘m Reddish, 2015) and the two unconfirmed but potentially related videos as (Don’t Hug Me .I’m Scared, 2010, and I ‘m Reddish, 2015).