It’s a weird thing when the internet decides to exhume a ghost. One day you’re watching a movie reviewer talk about the latest Marvel flick, and the next, your feed is blowing up with a grainy screenshot from 2010 that looks like a total career-ender. For Jeremy Jahns, that ghost was a video where he reviewed the movie Blade while wearing blackface.
It happened. It’s real. And even years after the initial fallout, the conversation around the Jeremy Jahns blackface incident continues to serve as a massive case study on YouTube’s "Wild West" era versus the accountability culture of the 2020s.
The Backstory You Might Have Missed
The video wasn't some hidden, leaked footage from a private party. It was a public upload on his main channel. In the early days of YouTube—we’re talking over a decade ago—the platform was a very different beast. Content creators often leaned into "edgy" or shock humor that simply does not fly today. Jahns, who has built a massive empire on his "Awesometacular" rating system and high-energy jump cuts, was reviewing the 1998 vampire hit Blade.
To "get into character," he applied dark makeup to mimic Wesley Snipes.
He wasn't the only one doing stuff like this back then. That doesn't make it right, obviously, but it provides the context of the era. He wore the makeup throughout the review, attempting to channel the stoic, leather-clad vampire hunter. Looking back at it now through a 2026 lens, it feels incredibly jarring. It’s a stark contrast to the polished, professional critic we see today.
Why it Resurfaced Recently
For a long time, the video just sat there, or rather, it lived in the archives of people who download everything. As Jahns grew in popularity, reaching millions of subscribers, his past became a target for scrutiny. This isn't just about "cancel culture." It’s about the fact that as someone becomes a leading voice in film criticism, their past takes on a new level of importance.
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The image started circulating heavily on Twitter (X) and Reddit around 2020, coinciding with a global reckoning over racial depictions in media. People who had followed Jeremy for years were blindsided. They saw a guy who seemed genuinely nice and passionate about movies, yet here he was, participating in one of the most historically offensive tropes in entertainment.
The Apology and the Aftermath
Jeremy didn't hide. When the backlash hit its peak, he addressed it. He didn’t pull the "I'm sorry if you were offended" card, which is the classic YouTuber non-apology. He admitted it was a stupid, tone-deaf decision made by a younger version of himself who didn't understand the weight of the imagery he was using.
He took the video down. He acknowledged the hurt it caused.
But here is where the nuance kicks in. The internet is rarely satisfied with a single apology. Some fans accepted that he had grown over the last fifteen years. They pointed to his long track record of consistent, non-problematic behavior since that time. Others felt that the act of putting on blackface is such a fundamental lapse in judgment that it permanently stained his reputation.
The Evolution of YouTube Accountability
Honestly, the Jeremy Jahns blackface situation highlights a massive shift in how we consume digital media. In the 2010s, "edgy" was a brand. Today, empathy is the standard. If you look at other creators from that era—guys like Shane Dawson or even Jimmy Kimmel and Sarah Silverman in traditional media—they all have these "blackface skeletons" in the closet.
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What makes Jeremy’s case interesting is that he isn't a "shock jock." He’s a movie nerd. The disconnect between his "nice guy" persona and that specific video is what made the sting so sharp for his audience. It felt out of character, even if it was "in character" for the Blade review.
Critics of Jeremy argue that ignorance isn't an excuse, especially for someone whose entire career is built on understanding film history and tropes. Proponents argue that people must be allowed to evolve. If we don't allow creators to acknowledge a mistake and move forward, we create a landscape where nobody can ever improve.
What We Can Learn From This
Basically, the internet never forgets. Even if you delete the file, someone has a screen recording. For creators, this is a permanent lesson in longevity. What feels like a "funny bit" in a basement in 2010 can become a PR nightmare in 2026.
It also teaches us about the complexity of "canceling." Jeremy Jahns didn't disappear. He’s still one of the most-watched critics on the platform. This suggests that a large portion of the audience values the decade of growth over the singular, albeit major, mistake.
It’s okay to be disappointed in creators we like. You don't have to "pick a side" instantly. You can acknowledge that the Blade review was offensive and wrong while still finding value in his current film analysis. Life is messy like that.
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How to Navigate Creator Controversies
If you're a fan or a casual viewer stumbling upon these old controversies, here is the best way to handle it without losing your mind:
- Check the Timeline: Context matters. Was this something done yesterday, or was it a product of a vastly different cultural era? Growth is possible, but the timing tells you a lot about the creator's current mindset.
- Look at the Response: Did the creator get defensive? Did they blame the "woke mob"? Or did they take ownership? Jahns chose ownership, which is why his career survived where others failed.
- Evaluate Current Actions: Does the creator's current content reflect the mistakes of the past? In Jeremy’s case, his content for the last decade has been focused purely on the craft of filmmaking and entertainment, without leaning into racial tropes.
- Form Your Own Boundary: You are allowed to stop watching someone if their past actions cross a line for you. You are also allowed to keep watching if you believe they’ve changed. There is no "correct" way to feel about someone else's mistake.
The Jeremy Jahns blackface incident remains a permanent part of his digital footprint. It serves as a reminder that the path to becoming a top-tier influencer is often paved with cringeworthy—and sometimes genuinely harmful—mistakes. The real test isn't whether a creator messed up back in the day; it's whether they have the character to admit it when the light finally shines on those dark corners of their archive.
Instead of just following the outrage cycle, use these moments to look deeper into the history of the tropes themselves. Understanding why blackface is harmful—even in a "tribute" to a character like Blade—is more valuable than just participating in a comment section war. Knowledge beats outrage every single time.
Keep a critical eye on the media you consume. Understand that your favorite creators are human, flawed, and often products of the times they started in. Whether you continue to hit that notification bell is entirely up to your own personal set of values.