An Interview With Gavin McInnes of ‘The Brotherhood of the Traveling Rants’

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Gavin McInnes is often referred to as “The Godfather of Hipsterdom”, having co-founded the seminal international publication VICE in 1994. But as bold as that moniker may be, it doesn’t tell the whole story, as it was but one chapter in his bizarre legacy of a life. He’s been a cartoonist, played in punk bands, taught English to kindergarteners in China—and since leaving VICE in 2008, this modern day renaissance man has carved a niche as an essayist, an actor, a comedian, a musician, a pundit, and recently, a feature-length filmmaker. His docu-dramedy road movie, The Brotherhood of the Traveling Rants, received a glowing review from yours truly a few weeks ago. His next film, How To Be A Man, is already in the can, and he is currently shooting a third. All this, while juggling a job as the creative director of ad agency Rooster New York. Not to mention, he’s also a husband, and a father of three kids. To say his days are full is an understatement, and I’m honored he found the time to chat with us here at Smug Film.
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The Brotherhood of the Traveling Rants: That Weird Penis Guy Made a Great Movie

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The Brotherhood of the Traveling Rants (2013)
Directed by Steve Durand, Bryan Gaynor, Gavin McInnes
68 min.

Most of the people reading this probably have no idea who Gavin McInnes is. My first introduction to him was through his weird penis. I’m a big fan of Terry Richardson’s photography, and many years ago I saw a couple photos by him of some guy with pointy facial hair and a very pointy foreskin*. These photos forever stuck with me, and it wasn’t until about a year ago that I saw this mystery man again, on Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld. Turns out the pointy foreskin man is a smart and funny writer and comedian who has a lot of great outside-of-the-box opinions on stuff. And now, with this movie, I’ve been surprised by him once again—the man has some serious acting and filmmaking chops.

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Rants is one of those sorta-documentaries containing some real scenes and some fake scenes. This kind of gimmick is usually annoying and unsettling, because you never really have a sure foothold, and you spend the duration of the film trying to deduce what’s real and what’s fake rather than just following the actual story. This film gets that, though. The switch-offs between real and fake here are so goddamn tongue-in-cheek and good spirited that by the end, the whole damn thing approaches transcendence, satisfying both your funny bone and your heartstrings in ways you will never have thought possible from what is essentially a standup comedy film.
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