Netflix
When I first saw Pee-wee's Big Adventure as a kid, it was one of those movies that caused me physical pain from laughter. The entire opening sequence was barely catch-your-breath hysterical, and while the rest of the film never sustained that manic energy for that long, it reached similar peaks throughout; I was fortunate enough to see it on the big screen at the L.A. Film Festival a few years ago with a new generation of kids, and it played just as well to them. I no longer bust a gut, but it is still reliably funny; any scene where Pee-wee confronts arch-nemesis Francis is a classic of cinematic immaturity.
Pee-wee's Playhouse - look, if you don't think that was genius, we can't be friends. Okay, we can, but you need to mellow the heck out before coming over to my place. Like Tim Burton's original movie, it was a show that realized the cartoonish Pee-wee functions best in an animated-style world that matches his weirdness. Randal Kleiser's Big Top Pee-wee failed because it wasn't strange enough - just the fact that he gave Pee-wee a sex scene proved he didn't really get the character, as well as serving to make us wonder how Kris Kristofferson's Mace Montana was supposed to do it with his action-figure-sized wife Midge (my Dad and I discussed this afterwards, and decided it must be manual stimulation; that we were even thinking this way should be evidence enough that the movie failed).
Early in the Judd Apatow-produced Pee-wee's Big Holiday, now streaming on
But after the band we're suddenly told Pee-wee is a part of all breaks up with him, the man-child has a temper tantrum, only alleviated when a mysterious motorcycle rider comes to town and orders a chocolate milkshake. He then has a sound off with Pee-wee that's akin to the old original insult exchange with Francis, except this time they're both agreeing with each other on the topic of candy. The rider is played by Joe Manganiello, and I won't spoil the name of his character here as it's too much fun of a reveal, though others (including IMDB) might, so be careful. At any rate, Pee-wee and the newcomer hit it off, and the latter challenges our hero to leave his safe zone, and come to New York City in five days for a birthday party. It's not as pressing a plot motivator as a stolen bike, but it works well enough to get the vignette-heavy plot in motion here.
It's hard to capture the lightning in a bottle that was Tim Burton's first feature directorial effort, but John Lee, veteran of adult-skewing parodies of children's shows (like Wonder Showzen and The Heart, She Holler) is a solid choice. Seemingly knowing he's being hired to recapture the magic, he doesn't feel as confident at the helm as Burton was in forging a new live-action cartoon, though there are moments - a surreal snake farm here, a rapping Grizzly Adams mockery there - that mange to capture the classic weirdness in a way Randal Kleiser never could. Did I mention Big Top Pee-wee kinda sucks? This movie may not reach the heights of the original, but it definitely isn't a fail.
Paul Reubens, like Anthony Daniels in the Star Wars movies, does an admirable job of fitting into the old familiar costume. It's weirder now than in the '80s to have every character refer to him as a "boy" - he may not look the full three decades older, but he does look like a middle-aged man under a lot of makeup - though at least the Pee-wee portrayed here is still the innocent, childish movie version of the '80s, and not the upskirt-mirror, stage-show rendition, as the latter would just play creepy onscreen nowadays. It's good to also see Diane Salinger - Simone the waitress from Big Adventure - actually acting her age as the pilot of a flying car. Reubens scripts with his recent stage-show collaborator Paul Rust, and while it's not all vintage gems - Pee-wee's run-in with a gang of female criminals feels like a Jay and Silent Bob rip-off - they are able to give novel twists to old jokes like the one about the fat farmer's daughters who want to have sex, or the Amish being so dour a squeaky balloon would amuse them.
Second-billed Manganiello was clearly a huge Pee-wee fan in younger years, and his deadpan performance here ranks up there with the best 21 Jump Street moments of his Magic Mike costar Channing Tatum (and bodes as well as anything can for his voice work as Hefty in the next Smurfs movie). Pee-wee on this trip doesn't dream of clowns, but of celebrating Manganiello's birthday in slow-motion, just the two of them, with oversized props and in Spanish. That this somehow DOESN'T come across as gay subtext, or even actual text, is a miracle, and an innocent vibe director Lee should be commended for maintaining. It's safe to show the kids, folks.
Unlike with other original films it has unveiled (hi, Oscar-less Beasts of No Nation!), Netflix feels like the perfect venue for Pee-wee's Big Holiday. Like the under-performing recent Muppets movies (the first nearly doubled its $45 million domestically; the second made just over its $50 million costs domestically), this is targeting nostalgic fans, who would probably prefer to check it out first before showing their kids, and using that as the gateway to the true classics that are Big Adventure and Pee-wee's Playhouse. Big Holiday may not stand the test of time, but for audiences unsure about a Pee-wee comeback, it's the right mix of conservative nostalgia-bait and minor creative risk-taking. If it does well, I hope Reubens will really go crazy with his creation next time.
