When Paul Reubens died Monday at age 70, fans around the world mourned the death of an artist.
But they were even more devastated by the passing of their dear old friend, Pee-wee Herman.
That bowtied ‘80s fixture was too goofy to be true, but also remarkably real to us because of the actor’s intense commitment to his zany character.
And that’s exactly how Reubens, the man who created and performed as Pee-wee, wanted it.
“I thought Pee-wee Herman worked better if [they] didn’t know that I was an actor,” he said in a 2004 interview with Dateline NBC. “So I went out of my way to try and get the public to think that that was a real person.”
Like the late Barry Humphries did for decades with Dame Edna Everage, Reubens led many viewers to believe that his laughing alter-ego in the gray suit was 100% legitimate.
That shrewd trick is part of what made Reubens one of the most brilliant kids entertainers ever — and one that the routinely boring genre barely deserved.
When he parlayed his meant-for-adults Pee-wee stage show from LA to the 1985 movie “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” — which put director Tim Burton on the map before “Batman” — and then the 1986 CBS family TV series “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” he brought innovative traits those nice daytime programs rarely see: true art and genuine entertainment.
Children’s TV, as fed-up parents well know, tends to be either educational like “Sesame Street,” or feel-good and hug-y like “Peppa Pig.” (The Count counts and the pink porker says, “If you are jumping up and down in muddy puddles you must wear rain boots.”)
Compare that aggressive wholesomeness with the surreal first episode of “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” when a sea captain phones Pee-wee while his ship is dramatically sinking. “Mayday, Pee-wee! I’m lost! Lost at sea!,” he screams.
Herman, speaking into a soup can on a string, hollers back: “Say it, don’t spray it, Captain Carl!”
The show was so preposterous that his furniture friends were called Globey the Globe and Chairry the Chair.
Over on the big screen, not many cut-and-paste family movies today have a scene more strangely awesome than the “breakfast machine” beginning of “Big Adventure,” or one half as memorable as the “Tequila” dance.
What a genius this guy was — and his geeky screaming maniac, somehow cool? Parents loved Pee-wee, too, and college kids gathered to watch him in their dorm rooms. When a stage version of “Pee-wee” came to Broadway in 2011, ticket-buyers of all ages went in costume.
You see, Pee-wee didn’t do so much preaching or teaching — he entertained everybody. He connected to both extrovert adventurers and introvert outsiders with his eagerness, quirks and unpredictability. If he imparted anything to his enormous audience, it was off-the-charts creativity and a bizarre sense of humor.
Taking that tack worked wonders. I’ve never once heard a Gen Xer or millennial proclaim how impactful “Barney the Dinosaur” or “Care Bears” was on their personality, but many social media users said Monday that Pee-wee has been a huge influence in their lives.
Pee-wee not only changed people, but also made his mark on future TV and movies.
These days we take for granted that films and series from Pixar, DreamWorks and Disney aim to please viewers of all ages. The characters are bright and bulbous for youngsters while the script sneaks in knowing jokes for grown-ups.
We definitely wouldn’t have had “Sponge-Bob Squarepants,” the most acclaimed children’s show since “Playhouse,” without Pee-wee Herman.
The not-so-secret word of the day is “sad.”
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