I don’t know what it is that’s so perversely satisfying about Schadenfreude, but turn on the TV any night and you can watch any number of programs showcasing other people’s anger, frustration, embarrassment or humiliation. In 2002, first-time feature director Ben Steinbauer saw a beat-up underground VHS tape of blurry and profane outtakes made by an RV salesman having a meltdown during a commercial shoot in 1988.
That man was Jack Rebney, who promptly and quietly disappeared from sight – until 2005, when the birth of YouTube made the “Winnebago man” an instant celebrity again. That clip, which has been seen by some 20 million people worldwide, reawakened Steinhauer’s curiosity about what had happened to Rebney.
Jack Rebney
Winnebago Man records Steinbauer’s search. Clues from the crew on that shoot eventually led to Rebney, living the life of a hermit on a northern California mountaintop with his pit bull Buddha. Anything but profane, Rebney was quite the soft-spoken gentleman, seemingly mystified at his continuing celebrity.
Steinbauer attempts to find out who this man is, but Rebney will have none of it. He doesn’t want to talk about himself but about politics and social policy, specifically Dick Cheney.
Ben Steinbauer & Jack Rebney
What does a filmmaker do when a subject has his own ideas about how he should be portrayed? In this case, he goes along for the ride.
Winnebago Man is enjoyable enough seen simply as a quirky little piece about a real-life character. But it could also be considered a cautionary tale about the price of celebrity and (especially poignant in view of the Shirley Sherrod affair this week) the power of the media to damage the innocent with dishonest editing. Or maybe it’s about aging and alienation.
In any case, Winnebago Man has the distinction of being different, riveting and unlike anything else you’ve seen this year.
