Making a documentary film is tough. Aside from the obvious tasks of finding an interesting subject, whittling down hundreds of hours of footage into 90 minutes, making sure it’s not boring and getting people to see the damn thing, how do you go about making a film that is both of good, filmic quality and not exploitative?
Even rather incredible documentaries such as “Grizzly Man” and “Billy The Kid” dance on the line of exploitation, and it can be argued that the directors take advantage of their subjects and cross the line for the sake of having a good film. Recall the moment when Herzog, on camera, tells the ex-girlfriend of Timothy Treadwell that not only should she never listen to the audio recording of his death, but she should destroy it.
What was the point of having this intensely personal moment captured on film, other than for the sake of the narrative? It seems to be just part of the process: how can we attempt to capture reality with a camera and not have it be manipulation? The second the camera goes on, it is manipulation. That said, while documentary film-makers have admitted to partaking in manipulation (and to a certain extent, exploitation) and audiences accept the films no matter what the cost to the subjects, few filmmakers have really confronted the idea of exploitation within their film. In fact, never in a million years would anyone believe that one of the films to include in this is a documentary film focusing on the viral video of a Winnebago salesman cursing out loud for four minutes. “Winnebago Man” is not only a sad tale on accidental Internet celebrity, but it also confronts the passion to make a good film no matter what the cost, even if it makes you look like a scumbag in doing so.
“Winnebago Man” is essentially a documentary following filmmaker Ben Steinbauer on his quest to find the star of the famed RV salesman freak-out video, Jack Rebney, sometimes dubbed as the “world’s angriest man” and a guy who’s video ranked #2 on some stupid Vh1 show about all-time Internet memes. The man is a total character and freak in the video and he has a delicious way with words (his desperate, “do me a kindness” imploring to the boobs around him is particularly funny and has caught on in a big way). You might want to stop right here and watch the trailer to figure out what the hell we’re talking about.
Conflict arises when Rebney refuses to open up to his “fans,” much to the dismay of Steinbauer who wants a good film. The film begins with narration from Steinbauer himself, in a rather dull fashion that telegraphs the film like a book.
A brief history of viral videos begins, going from “Star Wars Kid” to Rebney’s own video, which is very informative and wraps up nicely in a short amount of time. Steinbauer also shows his strange obsession with the video in quirky segments ranging from him watching the film with his grandmother to interviewing fans of the video who can’t fathom why anyone would even care where this man was now. He goes as far to hire a private investigator to find Rebney, which gets the ball rolling and from that point on, talking head videos and those quirky reenactments grind to a halt. The rest of the film follows the two in real time, with some of the strongest moments coming from the relationship between the filmmaker and the subject. One scene involves Steinbauer asking Rebney about his childhood and his previous marriage, with Rebney blowing them off and insisting on talking about politics, particularly on the subject of Dick Cheney. The documentarian takes him aside and tells him no one wants to hear his thoughts on Cheney, that he should try opening up to the camera first, that it would be better for the film. Rebney refuses to comply, and Steinbauer leaves disappointed.
There are many more rich moments like these, some so personal and harsh that it’s surprising the director even kept them in. This is why some of the film’s weaker features, like the overly quirky re-enactment segments in the beginning or the lifeless narration track are not only forgiven, but redeemed. These strictly Steinbauer-focused devices, particularly the narration, maybe seem a little self-satisfying, but that can be said about any sort of personal work, and it’s essential to have this kind of openness in order to confront the idea of exploitation in documentaries. This film is just as much about Steinbauer, about exploitation in documentaries, and about the extreme push to have a good film no matter what as much as it is about Rebney, his hilarious Winnebago-video antics, and unwanted Internet celebrity. In fact, Steinbauer is actually the more interesting one, the one who decided to, at all costs to both himself and his subject, make a good film about this man that nobody had any interest in learning about.
The film also does a good job in displaying all sides of the two main subjects. Although there are scenes that make him seem selfish, we don’t hate the filmmaker. He does appear to actually care about Rebney and really pushes for him to connect with other fans that love him so. While Steinbauer wants to make a good film at any cost, he also legitimately cares for his subject and wants to help him get the audience he deserves. And while the ex-salesman is definitely foul-mouthed and at times bitter and almost senile, Rebney does have a soft side which comes out at times when talking to his best friend, his pet, and eventually, his fans.
Steinbauer, with his insistence on making a good film out of this man, finally succeeds in the latter half when the two, along with his best friend, go en route to the “Found Footage Film Festival.” There, a now visually impaired Rebney (during the course of the film, he ends up losing his sight) meets his fans and finds much joy, accepting his fan base which he originally discredited as having a “room temperature IQ.” The result is charming, sentimental and exactly what Steinbauer wanted his film to ultimately be. The filmmaker is also smart enough to leave out his narration in this section, letting it play on its own, and the film completes on a heart-warming note.
Those looking for more laughs in vein of the “Winnebago Man” video won’t find it in the film. With the video in mind, one would assume (as does the director) that the film would be packed with just as many amusing freak-outs, but when Rebney gets heated, it’s more sad than funny. If the viewer can accept a serious, thought-provoking film about the star of a viral video and be patient enough with its weaknesses, they will be rewarded with a film that refused to settle on being a simple, goofy film about an underground/YouTube celebrity, one that was brave enough to portray its own filmmaker in not necessarily a negative way, but in a truthful way. [A-]
