It might be a sunny Friday afternoon, but I’m having what I described to a friend, without a shred of irony (or perspective), as “a cursed day”. After all my usual coping mechanisms failed, I found myself staring helplessly at the blank page where that day’s feature should be until a stinging sensation glazed my eyes over. Are they…tears, I wondered? I’ve been in therapy long enough to know I am not feeling this way because of writer’s block.
I know all too well that something else is at play, and so I try to do the right thing—within the confines of being on deadline—and take a mental health break. I grant myself 20 minutes, set the alarm, lie on the sofa and await serenity to wash over me. After seven minutes, I realise I am not en route to tranquillity, so I reach for my phone. Surely, social media will be a source of relief, I wonder, losing my grasp on reality. The universe throws me a bone. Or rather, a video of jellybeans being squished under a gleaming hydraulic press. Next up is a compilation of macaroons, Pringles, and Wotsits being flattened. The caption reads: ‘Colourful Crushing Fun’ and the video has 749,205 plays. Make that 749,206, I think, hitting repeat.
Have I come across a coping mechanism? Who else knows about this? Everyone, apparently. It turns out there is a whole community dedicated to watching inanimate objects get annihilated on film. The key players are, fittingly, the Hydraulic Press Channel, which has 9.52 million subscribers on YouTube. “Wanna see stuff getting crushed by hydraulic press? This is the right channel for you.” reads the bio. Yes! I think as I scan the channel for what looks like the most satisfying object to be crushed. I land on Top 100 Best Hydraulic Press Moments | Satisfying Crushing Compilation and watch with glee as a Hydro Flask, Post-It notes, and a Rubik’s Cube get smashed to smithereens to a boppy tune.
Is this what succumbing to madness looks like? Just before I have a chance to question my motives too much, I remember a discussion I had at Self Space’s Supper for the Soul, where I met the comedian Laura Smyth, who told me about a place in Hackney where you can break stuff. Another tablemate, who said she had trouble expressing anger, added that her therapist encouraged her to go hell for leather with a rubber bat, making us all think of that Simpsons episode.
I notice that the video—which was uploaded four years ago—has had 63 million views, and 48,977 people have felt compelled to comment on it. Popular comments include, “I don’t know why I’m watching this exactly, but it’s really satisfying.” (107 likes) and “Daddy, where did all my toys go?” which has a whopping 47k likes.
“Watching videos where objects are destroyed can offer a sense of satisfaction and emotional relief,” suggests Yana Morgan, an Art Therapist. She reasons that the act of destruction may symbolise a release from negative emotions or experiences. “Additionally, the lack of real-world consequences in these videos provides a safe outlet for expressing aggressive or destructive tendencies,” says Morgan.
Sarah McCreanor is a 32-year-old actor, dancer, comedian, and content creator from Australia who performs under the name ‘Hydraulic Press Girl’, which sees her “move her body to imitate objects being crushed in hydraulic presses”, according to her Wikipedia page. Still under the spell of my new social media obsession, I know I need to speak to her.
She tells me she’s been playing with interpreting things that wouldn’t typically be interpreted through dance since she was young. “When I first saw the viral phenomenon of the original Hydraulic Press videos, I immediately saw it as choreography and began creating,” she remembers.
@smacmccreanor
♬ Purple Rain – Prince & Prince and The Revolution
Of the 918 videos on McCreanor’s YouTube, 157 are part of her Hydraulic Press Girl series. She’s created custom work for brands and performed at the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne as part of its contemporary art exhibition “The Triennial”. She credits her success—she has 1.64 million YouTube subscribers and 2.8 million followers on TikTok—with the fact that people are drawn to seeing familiar things in an unfamiliar setting. “We all love the element of surprise!” says McCreanor.
Morgan believes that destruction videos can provide a form of catharsis, allowing viewers to experience the release of pent-up emotions in a controlled setting. “The visceral satisfaction of witnessing destruction can temporarily alleviate feelings of frustration, anger, or a need for control.” It tracks with my own feelings, but Morgan is quick to point out that while they may offer cathartic relief, “they don’t address the underlying causes of emotional distress.”
So, while I won’t be scrapping my therapist just yet, I feel reassured that indulging in hydraulic press videos is just a bit of harmless fun. Unless you’re an inanimate object, that is.
