Pee-wee Herman creator Paul Reubens dies at 70
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Paul Reubens' persona of Pee-wee Herman was a petulant man-child, yes — but he was also a trickster spirit, a burst of joyous id that snuck his brand of anarchy into the mainstream. He's pictured above in Los Angeles in 2009.Danny Moloshok / AP -
In 1991, Reubens pleaded no contest to indecent exposure in an adult movie theater; about a decade later, he was charged with possession of obscene material of a child under the age of 18, but later he pleaded guilty to a reduced, misdemeanor obscenity charge. He's pictured above onstage at Universal Studios in Universal City, Calif., in October 2011.Kevin Winter / Getty Images
Pee-wee Herman, the comic creation of actor/writer Paul Reubens, would often toss taunts of the schoolyard into his casual conversation. It was one of the character's go-to bits.
"Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer!"
"That's my name! Don't wear it out!"
And, most iconically,
"I know you are, but what am I?"
Of course, when it came to Pee-wee himself, with his tight gray suit, red bow tie, crew cut, rouged cheekbones and ruby-red lips, "What am I?" was the real question – it was the one he posed merely by existing.
Reubens died Sunday of cancer at the age of 70. He was an actor – but for a long time, he tried to convince the public that Pee-wee was a real person, not a character.
Folks didn't know what to make of Reubens' petulant man-child at first. Created in 1977, while Reubens was a member of the Los Angeles sketch troupe The Groundlings, Pee-wee was part prop comic, part brat and part trickster spirit. There was something fearless in Pee-wee, something unapologetic and brash that took you a second to process. The character was very obviously and intentionally what folks used to call a sissy – but how could a sissy own the stage like he did? Bask in the spotlight like he did? How could a sissy so confidently and explicitly dictate the terms for his audience on how to experience him?
The Pee-wee Herman Show at The Groundlings Theatre soon had LA hipsters lining up around the block for a midnight show that mixed puppets and parody with archival educational films – the precise fuel mixture that powered Reubens' later CBS Saturday morning show, Pee-wee's Playhouse.
It was never Peter Pan, what he was doing. Yes, Pee-wee was a boy who never grew up, but he was more than that — he was one singular adult's remembrance of what it was like being a kid. Specifically, of those parts of childhood we pretend not to see in our own children — the narcissism, the selfishness, the utter lack of basic human empathy. The monstrous bits.
In Pee-wee's Big Adventure, it manifested in his hilariously obsessive drive to recover his stolen bike — a quest which would cause him to trample on the feelings of friends like Amazing Larry (Lou Cutell) and Dottie (E.G. Daily). On Pee-wee's Playhouse, it took the form of gleeful admonitions to his viewers to "scream real loud" whenever anyone said the week's secret word. (Spare a thought for the long-suffering parents who'd hoped that sitting their kids in front of the TV would allow them a moment's peace to finish their coffee.) On 1988's magnificent holiday staple Pee-wee's Playhouse Christmas Special, Reubens zeroed in kids' ravenous greed for presents, turning Pee-wee into a monster who only reluctantly sees the light once guilted into it. (Like Scrooge, he's a lot more fun to hang around with before his last-minute epiphany.)
To watch Pee-wee was to re-experience childhood the way we'd forgotten it actually was – pure, concentrated, distilled to its essence, when riding your bike and playing with your toys and screaming real loud was all it took to fill a day. Pee-wee was a creature of impulse, anarchy and id – which is probably why Reubens' frequent appearances on Late Night with David Letterman helped launch him to stardom.
Reubens' silliness worked on a different frequency than Letterman's – Pee-wee was wilder and far less inhibited than Letterman could ever hope to be, and Letterman knew to play up his own tetchy, aggrieved discomfort at Pee-wee's hijinks for comedic effect. The two men vibrated at opposite ends of the comedic spectrum, but they worked together brilliantly. In those interview segments, which quickly devolved into Pee-wee's signature giggles, you laughed at Reubens' ability to take complete control of the experience, and at Letterman's entirely uncharacteristic willingness to give over the reins.
In the coming days, our social media feeds will fill up with a lot of Pee-wee's greatest hits – Large Marge; "Tequila!"; Jambi the Genie; Chairy; Reubens' extended and entirely improvised death scene in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie; "I'm a loner, Dot. A rebel."; and, of course, "Come on, Simone. Let's talk about your big 'but.'"
Me, though, I'll be putting on the aforementioned Pee-wee's Playhouse Christmas Special, because it will remind me of one of Reubens' most overlooked talents – his ability to sneak an artisanal blend of fey subversiveness into the mainstream. That special injected a defiantly, yet matter-of-fact, queer sensibility into the CBS primetime airwaves of Reagan's America: The Del Rubio Triplets! Zsa Zsa Gabor! Little Richard! Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon! KD Lang! Charo! The LA Men's Chorus dressed up as a Marine choir! And, most indelibly, Grace Jones as green Gumby, drag singing a club mix of "The Little Drummer Boy."
Keep your "I meant to do that." Keep your dancing on the biker bar to "Tequila." The image of Reubens that I'll be holding closest to my heart over the next few days is of him rocking out in the background as Jones sings in the glare of the spotlight.
Because I swear you can see, in just the way he holds his body, the mischievous delight he's taking in what he's unleashing on an unsuspecting public: Grace Jones, ladies and gentlemen, delivered unto your living rooms, pulling up to the bumper of your cozy family holiday special, an entirely singular brand of weirdness served up to you hot and fresh, with a high, unselfconscious giggle.
Jennifer Vanasco contributed to earlier versions of this story.
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Transcript
AILSA CHANG, HOST:
Actor Paul Reubens, best known as the character Pee-wee Herman, died of cancer on Sunday. That's according to an official statement on social media. He was 70 years old. Reubens starred in "Pee-wee's Big Adventure," "Big Top Pee-wee" and on the Saturday morning children's show "Pee-wee's Playhouse" from 1986 to 1990. Glen Weldon, co-host of NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour podcast, is here to help us put Reubens' legacy into context for us. Hey, Glen.
GLEN WELDON, BYLINE: Hey, Ailsa.
CHANG: So as we mentioned, "Pee-wee's Playhouse" and all the Pee-wee movies - I mean, they were these huge hits in the '80s and '90s. But then Reubens dropped out of the spotlight a bit after that - right? - following some legal troubles. Can you tell us more about that? Just remind us what happened.
WELDON: Yeah. In 1991, Reubens pleaded no contest to indecent exposure in an adult movie theater. About a decade later, he was charged with possession of obscene material of a child under the age of 18. But later he pleaded guilty to a reduced misdemeanor obscenity charge. And that, as you might imagine, inevitably changed how Reubens was perceived by a great many people.
CHANG: OK. Well, before all of that, people knew Reubens for his character Pee-wee Herman. What do you think made that character so unique and memorable?
WELDON: Well, there was his look, for one thing. I mean, he was a tall, skinny guy with white powder makeup, very pale, red lips, rouged cheeks, a crew cut, a gray suit, red bow tie. There was the laugh - (impersonating Pee-wee Herman) ha-ha - that made him iconic.
CHANG: (Laughter).
WELDON: But it was the persona, really. I mean, this guy was a man-child, right?
CHANG: Yeah.
WELDON: So Pee-wee the character lived his life like a young kid imagines what adulthood is like, which is just more time to ride your bike, you know, more time to play with your toys. So he was this kid who had managed to make it through to adulthood without ever going through puberty or feeling any kind of adult sense of responsibility or anxiety or dread - you know, the stuff we all live with. So even though he lived on his own and had his own playhouse with a bunch of puppet friends, he still peppered his speech with a lot of playground taunts like (impersonating Pee-wee Herman) say it; don't spray it, and, (impersonating Pee-wee Herman) that's my name; don't wear it out.
CHANG: I know you are, but what am I? I can't do your Pee-wee voice. But that's the best I could.
WELDON: No, I can't do my Pee-wee voice, either.
CHANG: (Laughter).
WELDON: Nobody can. But I know you are, but what am I - that's the most iconic question...
CHANG: Yeah.
WELDON: ...Because when it comes to the mainstream, for him, what am I was the million-dollar question because folks really didn't know what to make of him at first. I mean, Pee-wee was very intentionally what folks used to call a sissy, and yet here was this sissy on his own terms...
CHANG: Yeah.
WELDON: ...Who owned the spotlight...
CHANG: Totally.
WELDON: ...Who was completely comfortable in his skin. And Reubens came up with the character in the late '70s when he was a member of the LA improv group The Groundlings. He developed a midnight show called "The Pee-wee Herman Show," which was parodying the hosts of kid shows like Pinky Lee and Captain Kangaroo. The show had puppets. It had clips of old educational films. But mostly it had - front and center, it had Pee-wee, who was just this petulant, pouty man-boy.
CHANG: Man-boy. I mean, he was a total brat, which was kind of part of his appeal.
WELDON: Yeah. Yeah. I mean, to watch Reubens as Pee-wee was to remember what it felt like to be a kid. And he didn't shy away from depicting those parts of kidhood that we tend to gloss over. They're monsters - right? - the narcissism, the greediness...
CHANG: (Laughter).
WELDON: ...The complete lack of empathy.
CHANG: Yes.
WELDON: That's what he played up. And later, what really launched him is he would appear as Pee-wee on "Late Night With David Letterman," the talk show. And Letterman was the perfect foil because he was so buttoned up. He was visibly uncomfortable with just this pure id that Reubens was bringing. And they were both playing up their respective roles. And you watch them interact. You'd see Reubens, this creature of just chaos energy, and you'd see Letterman very slyly just handing over the reins - right? - to the show. They were coming from complete opposite ends of the comedy spectrum, but they worked together so well.
CHANG: OK, but before I let you go, we have to do the greatest hits now because there is a scene in...
WELDON: Sure.
CHANG: ..."Pee-wee's Big Adventure" when Pee-wee - you know, he needs to distract some tough-looking bikers. So he slaps on some really huge shoes, jumps on the bar while the jukebox is playing "Tequila."
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE")
UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) Yeah.
(SOUNDBITE OF THE CHAMPS SONG, "TEQUILA")
UNIDENTIFIED GROUP: (As characters) Tequila.
WELDON: Yeah, that's an iconic image. That's the indelible image. That's the one people are going to remember.
CHANG: Yeah.
WELDON: It's a (inaudible), too.
CHANG: Well, do you have an indelible image of your own?
WELDON: Well, yeah. And it comes from a 1988 Christmas special he did where he managed to sneak a whole lot of - I mean, people will discuss this - a whole lot of either queer or at least avant-garde or at least an outsider sensibility into the most mainstream thing there is in the world, which is a network holiday special. You can find it online. This thing has appearances by Little Richard and Charo and Annette Funicello and the Del Rubio Triplets and k.d. lang and Zsa Zsa Gabor and, only for a few seconds, Grace freaking Jones, Ailsa...
CHANG: (Laughter).
WELDON: ...In this kind of Gumby green Christmas drag singing what has to be a remix - a Studio 54 club remix of the "Little Drummer Boy."
(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "CHRISTMAS AT PEE-WEE'S PLAYHOUSE")
GRACE JONES: (Singing) Come, they told me. Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum (ph).
WELDON: Right?
CHANG: (Laughter).
WELDON: And just imagine, Ailsa, that was going out over the airwaves in Reagan's America.
CHANG: I love it.
WELDON: And you can just see him...
CHANG: Yes.
WELDON: ...Bopping along, knowing that he's given the kiddies of America something subversive, something weird.
CHANG: That is Glen Weldon, co-host of NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour podcast. Thank you so much, Glen. Let's take it out...
WELDON: Thank you.
CHANG: ...With some "Tequila."
WELDON: Tequila.
(SOUNDBITE OF THE CHAMPS SONG, "TEQUILA") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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