“We can learn a surprising amount from the most disturbing elements of our culture,” my roommate said as we discussed my idea for this blogpost. Over the course of the semester, we have considered how parodies, adaptations, and different versions of a text can change its identity as a whole. I began to realize just how relevant this concept is to our daily lives, even in the peculiar case of “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life.”
For those who are unaware, “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” is a series of YouTube videos originating from the image board 4chan. The videos depict the DreamWorks character Shrek as a godlike figure who brutally murders multiple people and engages in obscene sex acts with a minor. If you wish to view these videos for yourself, do so at your own risk. After viewing them, it is near impossible to look at the original Shrek movies in the same light—which is my exact reason for analyzing “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” from this theoretical lens.
The lewd vulgarity of “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” is impactful to the extent that it changes our entire perception of Shrek as a character. No longer is Shrek a simple ogre from a children’s movie; the internet has given him a new, larger, and twisted identity. Moreover, the “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” videos allude to numerous scenes and lines of dialogue from the original movie series, altering our perception of the films. On a deeper level, their identity. Is this a change for the better? For fans of crude, offensive humor, possibly. But for viewers who wish to enjoy the Shrek franchise as it was intended—an animated comedy film geared toward children—, certainly not.
Likewise, “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” forces us to question who holds true ownership over a text, film, or any cultural artifact. DreamWorks holds legal and monetary ownership over the Shrekfranchise through copyrights and contracts, but perhaps these forms are nominal: there is evidently a much greater, collective cultural ownership of Shrek. With all its capital power, DreamWorks could alter the identity of its own creation; at the same time, a single individual using rudimentary computer animation in his basement seems to have the same power. If the “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” videos prove one thing, it is that the collective is a strange animal. The collective is not homogeneous. When it comes to collective ownership of a cultural artifact, friction is a strong likelihood. One faction of the collective, no matter how small, can alter the identity of an artifact and potentially ruin the experience of the rest of the group. Problematic? Yes. Avoidable? Not without infringing on the individual right to digest a piece of culture in one’s own unique way, which I see as imperative to academic discussion and greater societal growth. Though it may lead us down some disturbing paths—made apparent by “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life”—, it is better than stagnation.