The Existential Angst of Vewn’s Animations

We don’t question the YouTube algorithm too much.

Often, we treat it as an invisible creature with a will of its own, recommending us treasures from time to time. It’s through this digital system that we were introduced to Vewn in 2017, like a glorious gift from the depths of the app. 

 
 

Seemingly appearing from out of the blue, Vewn garnered thousands of followers on her YouTube channel thanks to her witty and cynical animated shorts. From there, she has worked for “We The People” on Netflix for an episode featuring rapper Cordae, Adult Swim, and is currently developing a comedy titled “Dirt Girls” with Fox Entertainment. 

 
 

Victoria Vincent is the artist behind the Vewn universe. Born in 1999, Vincent has captured fans across the globe with her instantly recognizable style, which could be described as the musical genre of bedroom pop translated into visuals. Her YouTube channel is home to some of the coolest animated short films; raw, outspoken, and metaphorical, they’re the stars of the show. 

 
 

All-nighters, self-reflection, bandaids, and cats are at the forefront of Vewn’s creation. Especially in her animations, the stories are just a few minutes but feel like a movie thanks to the depth and relatability of her creations. They’re funny, and they reek of Gen-Z problems like the existential dread that pairs with climate change and the unbearable loneliness despite the width of the Internet. Despair is punctuated by the formality of irony and the twang of the bold color scheme, simultaneously dark and nauseously vivid. Characters are sketched out, not explicitly good or bad, nor beautiful, just as domestic and complex as everybody else. 

 
 

Vewn voice acts in her videos, usually as the main character; the sound design and music she incorporates further immerses and blend seamlessly with the gritty, sketchbook-esque world of hers. Vewn is modern in a nostalgic way, reintroducing the aesthetic of 90s cartoons and RPG video games through the lonely comfort of our tiny blue screens. 

 
 

About the Author:

Mizuki Khoury

Born in Montreal, based in Tokyo. Sabukaru’s senior writer and works as an artist under Exit Number Five.