My Pee-Wee Anniversary
Paul Reubens, we hardly knew ye
Pee Wee, We Hardly Knew Ye
It was the anniversary of Paul Reuben’s death last week, July 30, and I thought again how much I miss him. It was time we had a talk.
I happen to have a Pee Wee Herman marionette, so when the going gets tough, the doctor is always in. What a life the man had, what a life we shared together!
There was Pee-Wee’s Playhouse Christmas Special, my favorite part of Xmas. It’s not too soon to watch it August!
And then, the not-so-secret gay universe of Pee-Wee Herman’s children’s show that lit up our lives, for three golden years of Saturday mornings. I own the box set now, so I can watch perpetual re-runs.
Every time I think of antigay witch-hunters who destroyed Reuben’s Playhouse career, I STILL want to kill somebody.
Thus, I sat down last night to watch Matt Wolf’s Pee-Wee as Himself, a HBO 2025 biography of Reuben’s life, shot as he was (secretly) dying of lung cancer.
It has been nominated for several Emmys, and deserves every one.
I procrastinated my screening, yes. I knew seeing Paul Reubens on TV, at the end of his life, would be tough. We lost a genius, a real one, and his career was cut short not just by cancer, but by only-in-America sexual persecution.
The documentary is rich, so much I didn’t know. Can you believe his father was one of the pilot daredevils who founded Israel’s Air Force? —A man who told his beloved son to “be the best homosexual you can be?” His parents adored him.
I was surprised to find young Paul was part of the first theater cohort at CalArts Valencia university. He was frequently cast in improv with David Hasselhoff and Katey Segal, because the three of them were the tallest kids in the class.
And the saddest shock: Reuben’s life was one big gay-gay-gay drag performance art piece, until he shut the closet door tighter than Dick’s hatband. He broke up with his lover, Guy Brown, a black painter from Echo Park— Paul’s only confidante and the love of his life.
It breaks your heart. Years later, when Pee-Wee’s showbiz competitors sought his scalp, and joined forces with the tabloids and fake Christians to crucify him, that secret was his Achilles’ heel.
I realized after watching the biopic, that Reubens was deeply secretive about more than one thing. I still don’t know why.
The secret started with relatively small things like, Paul was a closeted chain smoker. He absolutely did not want children to know he smoked; he was ashamed of it. Later, after the cancer diagnosis, he didn’t want anyone to know he was sick, and he kept it to himself for years. He prevaricated, to his own detriment— including lying about why he was unsure of cooperating in Matt’s documentary.
Reubens is right when he describes the wall Hollywood puts up to keep gay actors in the closet. In his youth, there was no way he could have “broken out” if he’d been open about his life. It is a sacrifice many make. If you are “twee” or fairy-like— not Cary Grant or James Dean— it is an impossibility.
Paul Reubens solved the mainstream success puzzle by embracing a child-like persona. He invented a prankster Peter Pan, a fly-fantastic little boy. Pee-Wee forever. He couldn’t grow old. And we all know what happens to that plan . . .
I have a Pee-Wee Herman doll, a talking marionette, that was sold at the height of the Playhouse show’s fame. My doll sits up on a bookshelf, and on occasion, I take him down to share with a friend, a friend who needs a private talk with Pee-Wee.
I watch the tears come to their eyes as we “pull his string,” and I instruct them to ask Pee-Wee a personal question.
As much as we laugh at our pantomime, there’s a heart attached to that cord. My friends hold the Pee-Wee doll tight in their arms and have a hard time putting him down. I’m talking grown men here, as big as David Hasselhoff!
Pee-Wee and I needed some alone time, too. The day he died, we shot a video together:
Love you forever, dear friend. They’ll never be another like you.