On Monday, news broke that Paul Reubens—known to many people as Pee-wee Herman—had died at age 70 after a six-year battle with cancer. Stories started pouring forth from his celebrity friends (apparently, he was notorious for lovingly text-bombing pals on their birthday) while tributes came from all over, including the Alamo.
On Saturday mornings during the latter half of the 1980s, chances are good you could find me in front of the TV, watching Pee-wee’s Playhouse. I loved the show. (So why don’t you marry it?) I was still very young at the time, but Pee-wee’s Playhouse’s whimsy and irreverence resonated deeply with me. It’s not a stretch to say that the show shaped my sense of humor to this day.
Sure, I was drawn to its penchant for puns—Chairry the friendly plush chair, Floory the droll talking floorboards, Pterri the anxious pterodactyl, Cowntess the fancy upper-crust cow—and the kooky characters who always dropped by the playhouse. Pee-wee’s Playhouse also existed in an oddly liminal time and space, at once retro and futuristic. It oozed colorful 1980s fashion and décor, but aired cartoons from the 1930s and referenced kitschy pop culture of the 1950s and 1960s. Pee-wee’s Playhouse was a quirky version of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood—still community-oriented and accepting of differences, while being a little more offbeat and open to embracing weirdness.
The show’s wholesomeness had all sorts of cracks in its veneer, however. Despite being for kids, the jokes often worked on multiple levels: the innocent interpretation and a darker, more adult one. Pee-wee himself could also be imperfect and child-like: impatient, petulant, cranky, selfish. He was the show’s main character, but he never sugarcoated his flaws or sanitized his imperfections. As a kid, how could you not love someone who acted like that and got away with it?
Pee-wee’s friends at the playhouse liked him anyway, though—a powerful message to weird kids everywhere, who might have also felt like total outsiders or square pegs while growing up. You didn’t always have to try and fit in; being your oddball self was good enough. You were lovable—and loved—anyway. More than that, the show didn’t try overly hard to be odd or be for oddballs; instead, it came by its strangeness naturally. That’s also powerful: Sometimes you’re just born a bit offbeat—and that’s something to wear as a badge of honor.
Music-wise, the show was also secretly, subtly cutting-edge. Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh composed the show’s otherworldly music; Cyndi Lauper was the exaggerated-cabaret vocalist “Ellen Shaw” behind the theme song; Dweezil Zappa, Todd Rundgren and the Residents (the Residents!) performed music heard on the show. Unless you had really cool parents, these weren’t bands that a kid might hear. Nonetheless, the absurdity seeped in. In that sense, Pee-wee’s Playhouse was a perfect example of pop culture that was weirdness-by-osmosis.
In addition to starring in the TV show, Reubens also co-wrote, co-directed and was executive producer of a 1988 Christmas special, Christmas at Pee-wee’s Playhouse. I vaguely recall watching it as a kid, but I came to appreciate its greatness as an adult. To this day, I watch Christmas at Pee-wee’s Playhouse every year on Christmas Day morning. We even bought the Blu-ray because it’s not always streaming. It’s by far my favorite Christmas special.
On a surface level, Christmas at Pee-wee’s Playhouse works as a cautionary tale: being a presents-hungry grinch is bad and the spirit of the season is all about giving. The show’s guest stars—Oprah Winfrey, Joan Rivers, Dinah Shore—also illuminate Reubens’ clout at the time. And the show is very, very funny—I mean, NBA star Magic Johnson portrays “Magic Screen’s Cousin” (lol). Sounds very much like stereotypical feel-good Christmas fodder, right?
Well, this is Pee-wee’s Playhouse we’re talking about—and this is Reubens emboldened by the freedom of mainstream pop culture momentum—so the special instead decides to lean hard into subtext. As a result, the show is campy, it’s queer, it’s smart, and it’s gloriously absurd.
That translates to Little Richard ice skating! Grace Jones emerging from a box singing “Little Drummer Boy”! Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon forced to make Christmas cards! Cher in an outfit foreshadowing where she’d go in the “If I Could Turn Back Time” video! k.d. lang, prior to her mainstream pop stardom, belting out “Jingle Bell Rock”! Shirtless, muscular workers building a room with bricks of fruitcake in the playhouse! Charo and the Del Rubio Triplets being awesome!
You must think that the network powers-that-be completely missed the queer subtext of the special—or simply didn’t realize that Reubens and crew had amassed an all-star team of queer icons. It’s certainly to our gain: Christmas at Pee-wee’s Playhouse is celebratory, hilarious and completely joyful for reasons unrelated to Christmas. “Sorry, Grace—back in the box!”