The Loner, The Rebel, The Muse
It’s a cold and foggy morning as I write this. The air has taken on the very first crisp of approaching fall. Since hearing the news of Paul Reubens’ death yesterday, I have been surrounded by my own blanket of fuzzy nostalgia and melancholy at the loss of one of my favorite artists of all time.
I was nine years old when Pee-wee’s Playhouse debuted as part of the Saturday morning lineup on CBS. Sandwiched between Jim Henson’s Muppet Babies and the New Adventures of Mighty Mouse, the live action comedy show struck a chord. The combination of Paul Reubens’ character, the incredible artistry and design of the sets, and the overall irony and humor of the show captivated me, and I was hooked.
It must have been the same year, or very soon after, that I also saw Pee-wee’s Big Adventure on VHS, rented by my parents (along with the VCR itself, most likely) for a family movie night. While I was completely terrified by Large Marge, so much so that I leapt out of my seat and halfway across the sofa into my dad’s lap, I still loved everything about the cult classic.
The fact that I grew up in a small, Los Angeles-adjacent town in San Bernardino certainly contributed to my aesthetic appreciation of the movie and TV show. I lived only 30 minutes from the truck stop dinosaurs in Cabazon where Pee-wee meets Simone and it was a local landmark I easily recognized and identified with. The distinctly 80s L.A. aesthetic was also something close to my heart. I grew up watching Eye on L.A. and Entertainment Tonight and reading the Sunday L.A. Times Magazine which we had delivered weekly — the large format newspaper insert was the first thing I read after perusing the comics and horoscope. The bright colors, crazy patterns, and pop-art influence were part of my childhood aesthetic and remain a lynchpin in my artistic vision today.
When asked about the styles that went into the set design, [artist Gary] Panter said, "This was like the hippie dream .... It was a show made by artists .... We put art history all over the show. It's really like .... I think Mike Kelley said, and it's right, that it's kind of like the Googie style – it's like those LA types of coffee shops and stuff but kind of psychedelic, over-the-top." (Wikipedia)
Highly stylized art has always appealed to me, and the combination of Paul Reuben’s over-the-top character and Tim Burton’s precise, distinct vision as a director made Pee-wee’s Big Adventure a perfect union. Over time, it has become my favorite film, holding up to repeated viewings year after year with the comedy remaining fresh and clever. It is weird, it is surreal, and it winks at an audience who is forever in on the joke. From the opening Rube Goldberg breakfast making machine, to the James Dean rebellion, to the trope of the escaped convict, to the parody of Texans and their love for the Alamo, the film is packed with pop-culture references that have made it fascinating to revisit time and again. As I have grown older and my own knowledge of culture has grown, my love for the film deepens and my respect for the artists involved only increases.
There is another element to Reubens’ work that form a core value of my own artist’s credo - the value of absurdist play. I am a huge advocate of not taking oneself too seriously as an artist. When I go back and watch Pee-wee as an adult, I am taken by his commitment to innocence, to fun, and to indulging his inner child by assuming the persona of an adult who refuses to grow up. He is not a perfectionist, not weighed down by responsibility, and not afraid to do things just because they seem interesting and like a good time. He screams at the secret word, plays with scotch tape, and finds endless uses for giant underwear. I love things that exist simply to be absurd, to remind us not to take life to seriously, and to highlight just how strange and chaotic the human experience can be. Throughout his career, Reubens committed to the tongue in cheek humor that brings the audience in on the joke, making himself both the comedian and the punchline. In doing so, he created a space where we, the audience, are released from the expectations of mundane reality and are free to frolic beside him with a sense of childlike wonder at the weirdness of the world.
Pee-wee is also the embodiment of authenticity. He is always himself, and in staying true to his view of the world he teaches us that, despite making mistakes, taking a wrong turn, embarking on a fool’s errand, we can return to ourselves and incorporate lessons learned from life’s adventures into our understanding of the world. Pee-wee teaches us that we can be ourselves in a world that demands conformity. He demonstrates that being a unique individual does not eliminate the potential for growth. Quite the contrary — Pee-wee is changed by the experiences he has, the people he encounters, and the mistakes me makes. And, in turn, he changes those who are lucky enough to be caught up in his fantastic movement through the world.
Every year, on my birthday, I watch Pee-wee’s Big Adventure. It is comfort food, pure nostalgia, a reminder that love, joy, and laughter are the values that guide my life. Thank you for the wonder you have created in the world, Paul Reubens / Pee-wee Herman. Today’s secret word is “LOVE”.
