Following an uncelebrated career in back-room news broadcasting, Jack Rebney makes a switch to industrial film production. The move takes him out of the mundane commercial existence of NYC and situates him in the calm rural town of Forest City, headquarters of Winnebago Industries. This is 1988, and it is here within the dead, humid August heat of the Iowa summer, with the temperature pushing past 100 degrees, the air stagnant, and the flies on a blood binge, that Jack proceeds to have his now famous meltdown.
A little background. Jack is filming a new industrial video for the 1989 model year Itasca Sunflyer. This is the type of video that you may see running on loop at any vehicle manufacturer headquarters – uniquely polished and sterile of any ambiguity, the sole purpose of which is to tout the miracles of a new product so as to get the targeted dealers drooling at the mouth for a load of the candy. Neatly buckled into khaki slacks with a starched white shirt, well manicured mustache, and a smooth bald head, as moderator and public face for Winnebago Jack’s sole job responsibility is to remain poised in front of the camera and recite articulately from the script.
Except it doesn’t happen that way. Instead, the sun blazes through the Winnebago’s windshield and Jack must pause frequently to wipe the sweat from his brow. The flies came out in droves, pecking at Jack’s face and neck as he attempts to recite his lines to the camera. Even the equipment for the Itasca Sunflyer doesn’t cooperate. The compartment doors don’t stay open when they should, the ladder to the roof is slick and difficult to climb, and pieces of gear just seem to fall off of the truck in mid-shoot. Jack does not take these setbacks gracefully. As the heat wears him down he starts to falter, forgetting lines, mispronouncing words, and, in some cases, talking straight gibberish. Under the strain, Jack lets the F-bombs fly with a casualness bordering Tourette’s and apparently doesn’t stop until the shoot is complete.
As it happens, the film crew, for one reason or another, records all of Jack’s ravings and compiles them into a 4 1/2 minute long video tape. They then pass this along to friends, because it is hilarious, and the friends then share it with other friends until the tape takes on a cult following. Now remember that this is 1988, pre-Internet, so all of the sharing was via VHS dubbing, making the film one of the first true viral videos. The video is uploaded to YouTube in 2005 and is presently claimed to have been seen by over 20 million people.
At some point between 1988 and 2010 the film makes it into director Ben Steinbauer’s hands and he is immediately intrigued with the man behind the anger. So much so that he sets out to meet him. This is about the time where the documentary Winnebago Man (2010) picks up. Finding Jack happens to be harder than expected. Save one innocuous classified post by a man named Jack Rebney there is no other information on the Internet. After exhausting all of his known channels, Steinbauer seeks the aid of a private investigator who helps lead the way to Jack. Other people that have been the subject of similar viral videos have faced embarrassment and insult that has lead, in some cases, to attempted suicide or the threat of lawsuit. How has Jack received his unwanted attention?
Surprisingly enough, we find Jack living secluded in the California mountains. Hardly the image of the “Angriest Man in the World”, Jack is calm, mindful, and amiable. The very embodiment of the wise old man in nature. What’s more, Jack is unaware of his celebrity status or the viral nature of the Winnebago tape.
The surprises, of course, do not stop there, else this would be quite a short and boring documentary. What makes this documentary interesting is what Jack chooses to do with his sudden celebrity following the first meeting with Steinbauer. Though not deep in substance, Winnegbago Man offers a compelling character study of one man that has been viewed by millions of people on his worst day. It asks the question – how do we as viewers relate to the unfortunate people within the videos that we laugh at. Do we see them simply as buffoons, or perhaps heroes? At one point Steinbauer interviews an expert on viral videos who simply states that he has no interest in meeting the people that are in the videos which he collects. In fact, he seems to find the idea extremely distasteful. To him, the person on the film is more like an actor playing a part, a shadow, and to know anything about that person is to move the video out of the realm of entertainment and into the realm of reality.
But Jack’s viral video is not the common sort of blooper reel. Where most viral videos involve some uncoordinated ass crashing a shopping cart or clumsily misjudging the release from a tree swing a la America’s Funniest Home Videos, Jack’s dissent into madness makes us laugh because we see ourselves reflected in his actions. We have all had days like this. For some people their Jack Rebney moment is when they kick the golf bag and curse at themselves for shanking an easy putt, for me it is slamming my tennis racket against the ground until it is bent and useless after volleying an easy lob directly into the net. Rebney’s rants are not simply the chaotic bullying of a sociopath – they are instead the verbal self-flagellation of a perfectionist who can’t seem to do something that he commonly finds easy to do. We are provided a window into the soul of a man that is astonished and frustrated at being off of his game while videotaping a simple industrial video.
Unlike most of the unfortunate “actors” in viral videos, through the mediation of Steinbauer, we do get to meet and observe the true Winnebago Man. And I guarantee you that your perception of Jack will change as you watch Winnebago Man. And then it will change again. And then again.
Winnebago Man
(5 puppets)
For those that have not seen the original outtakes, below is the extended version of the viral film now on YouTube. The VHS film that was passed around was a shorter version. Warning, this video is not to be viewed by children or self-righteous bastards.
The Minnie Winnie – part of an American tradition.. and today, on the cutting edge of design and function, is a class C motor home… You believe any of that sh#t?