Missed the final installment? Here it is.
Want to watch Doug’s own review of The Review Must Go On? Click here!
Before anyone asks, I’m not reviewing the anniversary movies.
After watching the entirety of Demo Reel, I have this to say: Damn, this was not worth the collective conniption fit.
Nuh-uh, you don’t get to argue with me. After having a mass aneurysm over a wall color, you guys squandered your right to justify any and all actions concerning the Critic.
All that aside, this was probably the most fun I’ve had reviewing something. I’ve been working on this batch since June 2018. It is now June 2019. An entire year spent with Demo Reel, in between a day job, writing, drawing, blogging, and real life obligations. An entire year spent drafting and writing, thinking of clever ways to describe the oddities I found in the show, mixing all kinds of ingredients to create original beverages I could be proud of, sharing these creations with others, and learning how to take criticism of my writing and recipes. I got to tap into what little mixology talent I possess and experiment with ingredients. I don’t think I would have been inspired otherwise.
More importantly I became better at meeting personal deadlines, writing concisely, and editing on the fly. The closer I neared a deadline, the more confidence I gained in meeting it, even if it was by the skin of my teeth.
It wasn’t a bad way to spend a year. It was, in fact, probably the most I’ve grown as a content creator.
I must admit that I’ve been remiss in explaining the origin of the Teddy Ruxpin joke. In 2008, the Nostalgia Critic reviewed the classic toy, saying some pretty harsh things that resulted in… well, you’ll have to watch the video to find out. But for a few years afterwards, fans would “scare” Doug with the toy at conventions, and the rare mention of the stuffed mortal enemy would become a running joke in the fandom. I thought I’d put my own twisted… twist… on it and imagine it as an effigy for the overwrought fans while Demo Reel denied them their Critic.
I heard there was a followup of sorts to Demo Reel, but considering the source is TV Tropes (a pop culture wiki that’s even less controlled than Wikipedia), I doubt the veracity of this information. Back when the Walkers hosted livestreams, there may have been a Demo Reel-ish story acted out by Doug, Malcom, and Tamara Chambers, the new leading lady. I never had the opportunity to drop in on these streams, and they don’t seem to be archived anywhere. I guess I have no choice but to distrustingly take the hydra-headed word of TV Tropes on this.
I may be a soft voice in a crowd of shouters, but I stand by my opinion. I don’t think the Walkers made something terrible. I think they targeted the wrong demographic.
When a creator gains a fanbase, they usually keep making things to entertain that fanbase. They also want to branch out and try different things. Different genres, mediums, and formats. To keep doing the same thing over and over atrophies the imaginative muscles. It makes a mind stale.
When a creator attempts something different, they usually expect their fanbase to readily accept and enjoy it. But fans can be unpredictable. The romance novelist who tries her hand at thriller mysteries may find her fans devouring her newest works. The comedian who attempts a drama may find his fans claiming he’s desperate to remain relevant.
It’s a roll of the dice when a creator ventures into new frontiers. Doug and Rob were no different. They wanted to write a sitcom, to try something that involved more craft and thought than reviews. They refused to stagnate with a single character and premise. Yet the fans rioted.
To this day, some fans regard Demo Reel as a blemish on Doug’s career. Trolls and critics disdain it and use it as the butt of jokes aimed at him. But this is in gossip forums, YouTube comments, and wikis. In my small corner of the world, inhabited mostly by writers, poets, and daydreamers, Demo Reel is something different.
Any time I brought up the concept of Demo Reel to these people, I’d get a message back asking me for more information or links to the videos, or a glint in the eyes that spoke of a desire to write something just as crazy and original. If they weren’t wowed by the show, these people at least appreciated its irreverence.
Demo Reel was a show about a director trying to tell his transformative versions of popular Hollywood movies as a means to avenge his dead mother… only to discover that his life was a lie and he was in a limbo created by an omnipotent being. To many viewers, it was an obnoxious distraction, a fraud, and a travesty.
To me, it was a show for creators.
It was a show for creators who charge on ahead even if all the odds are against them; who dread that they’ve wasted their time on something nobody will ever read, watch, or enjoy; who come to grips with having to destroy their own worlds and characters; who brainstorm entire worlds and end up having to put them on the back burner or abandon them altogether; who fumble and fail; who conceive tiny bits of genius and come to rediscover an idea or story that feels like home.
As someone who’s done all of this, Demo Reel means something on a somewhat deeper level to me.
Was it perfect? Of course not, no story ever is. Was it profound? In a couple of moments, I think so. Was it groundbreaking cinema? I can’t determine that, not by myself. You can set out to create what, in your mind, is the be all and end all of your craft, and end up creating something that the public finds lackluster. Or you can create something that isn’t appreciated until years later. It’s all a matter of public opinion. (Or as I’ve observed in my writing circles, authors don’t determine their own bestsellers, readers do.)
But some of us don’t agree with public opinion, and not just because we’re contrarian (read: difficult). Some of us just like what’s different and unusual, or what reflects our own fears, desires, and hopes. The majority hated Demo Reel, but I loved it.
Time will tell if Channel Awesome creates something entirely original again. Their FanScription podcast and videos seem to be a small step in that direction. Don’t let the “fan” part of the name fool you; actor Walter Banasiak and Rob Walker lead the other Channel Awesome folks in reimagining entire plots of movies. These could easily transform into original works with a little more imagining. It could lead to inspiration. More importantly, it could give them the courage to try something more original. I hope they do.
The Nostalgia Critic has enjoyed his homecoming and revival. But the years roll along. Pop culture trends come and go, people grow older, interests wane, and death is guaranteed. This is pure fact and cannot be debated: The Critic will go away one day, it will be for good, and the fans will have no say in the matter. No ranting, downvoting, mass unsubscribing, Teddy Ruxpin effigy creating will stop it.
But maybe by then, the fans will be ready to say goodbye.
Now that it’s all over, I have a Donnie-shaped void in my life. I’m kind of afraid to say goodbye to him. He was my mental companion for this entire year. He hung out with me as I performed drudgery at the day job, sat idly by as I hammered out bullet points in a document, and inspired me during odd moments—sometimes in the middle of the night—so I’d have to scramble for my phone’s note app or a pen and paper.
He was a dreamer and a doer, charging on with limited budget and few tools, hanging on to his personal mission when everyone else was against him. I saw so much of myself in him that I dreaded having to write the final post in this batch. Not only did it signal the end of this project, it meant having to write about the death of Donnie’s hopes and dreams—and even Donnie himself. You don’t spend a year with someone, even if they’re fictional, and not bond with him in some way.
Yes, he was the Critic all along, and although I adore the Critic, I developed an affinity for Donnie. But this is my personal Zelda/Sheik dilemma, and I’ll deal with it.
Maybe you’ve come to love Donnie, too. Maybe you just tolerate him. No matter your opinion of him, he served a purpose. He gave Doug a much needed break and helped bring in a new, long lasting wave of Nostalgia Critic reviews that are still going strong to this day. You have to appreciate him for that at least.
So if you’re a Critic fan or if you enjoyed Demo Reel, raise a drink to it. Watch the videos on the Channel Awesome YouTube channel and leave a comment. Or raise one of my drinks in the comments.
But maybe don’t mention where you got the drink names… at least right away. Because it would make my year if I opened a First Viewing or Doug Reviews video and the first words out of Doug’s mouth were, “Okay, before we get into this, I gotta ask: What the fuck is an Angry Squirrel?”
Legal Matters
The Nostalgia Critic, Demo Reel, Channel Awesome, That Guy With The Glasses, and other related materials and properties are copyrighted to Doug Walker, Rob Walker, Mike Michaud, and others who hold these copyrights and/or trademarks.
The recipes featured in this batch are of my own creation and are based on existing characters, events, or concepts from the original source. No profit was made in creating these drinks (in fact, I spent quite a bit of money…) and they are not being sold to any dining or drinking establishments.
All materials derived from the source are used for illustrating and quoting purposes. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Every effort was made to accurately quote and portray the source; any errors are my own.
Oh, yeah, the header image? That has a “real” script page I roughed out.
It’s not perfect, but I thought it was a nice touch.
Prep Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6 Cleanup
