The Genius of Paul Reubens: Making the World Happy, One Smile at a Time

The Genius of Paul Reubens: Making the World Happy, One Smile at a Time

“Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.” 

Danny Kaye

Paul Reubens, better known to millions as the affable, quirky Pee-wee Herman, passed away at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in LA this past Sunday at the age of 70. Contrary to his boisterous and live-out-loud Pee-wee persona, Reubens was intensely private and hid his cancer diagnoses from the public for six years. Public figures who live their lives outside of the spotlight have always intrigued me. Rather than regurgitate boilerplate biographical info culled from the interwebs, I want to delve into the man behind the mask, as well as his influence on me and countless other dreamers across the expanse of life.

Who was this Paul Reubens cat who donned the mask of “Pee-wee Herman”, almost exclusively, for the better part of a decade? Was Pee-wee another aspect of Paul’s persona, or an altogether different identity? Where did one begin and the other end? Should these psychoanalytic ponderings be left to conjecture? Perhaps. However, they do beg the question: Who is Paul Reubens?

The comedic stylings of Paul Reubens did not fit into any pre-existing notions of what a comedian should be. His background in improv led to the 1978 creation of his Pee-wee Herman persona. A failed SNL audition in the early 80’s drove him to forge his own path as a cutting-edge performer and comedian. He was determined to make it, but on his own terms. By the mid-80’s, his persistence had paid off in the form of a major motion picture deal.

For many of us, our first acquaintance with Paul Ruebens was his feature film debut, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure. My first impression of this slightly manic man child in the tight grey suit: he’s insane…in the best way possible. In my mind, he challenged the social norms that defined “adulthood.” My pre-adolescent interpretation of adulthood was rigidity with a pinch of surliness. Unlike most of the adults I had been exposed to at that time, he wasn’t afraid to tap into the inner child that, I believe, most of us still possess.

A 1986 deal with the CBS network allowed Paul to go supernova with his creativity, producing the now classic Saturday morning series Pee-wee’s Playhouse. The “playhouse” depicted in the show was a wonderland of colorful, vibrant characters, controlled chaos and, much to my delight, anthropomorphic chairs (Chairry) and windows (Mr. Window)! This place was weirdness* personified (*as a self-proclaimed “weirdo,” the term doesn’t have the negative connotation to me as it does to those who are neurotypical). Reubens was the brightly burning sun at the center of this zany universe. In the midst of all of this, important life lessons were being dispersed along the way:

Release your inhibitions.
Be kind to others.
Stop being so #@!*% serious all the time!

Even though Reubens would go on to play critically acclaimed roles outside of the Pee-wee persona, it was indeed the absurd stylings of Monsieur Herman that cemented his legacy. Imagination was his stock-in-trade and this stock he possessed in spades. Reubens used that imagination to build a world of fantasy that doubled as a safe space from the fear, paranoia, and corruption that plagued the lives of far too many of us. Maybe, “Paul Reubens” was the mask donned by Pee-wee Herman to fit in a world that has little tolerance for square pegs that can’t be coerced into round holes.

We all could benefit from a dip into the pool of absurdity from time to time. Along with relieving stress, I hear it does wonders for the skin!

Rest well Paul.

Photo Credit/Art Streiber