Paul Reubens, Pee-wee Herman, was a brilliantly weird comedian that leaves a weird legacy

Pee-wee Herman, like caviar, was an acquired taste.

The child-man, with his too-tight clothes and red bow-tie, with his strangled voice and inane chuckle, is a character that to some no doubt has the appeal of raw fish eggs. But to the connoisseur — ah!

Paul Reubens, the actor who created him, had a troubled career and a troubled life. Even some who don’t hold his comedy against him have never forgiven him for several scandals in his personal life.

But Reubens, a Peekskill, New York, native who died Monday, July 31, from cancer at age 70, created one movie that is — for some of us – a comedy classic on a par with “Duck Soup” or “The Producers.” And he created a brilliant, weirdly ambiguous children’s TV show that — if it were airing today — would probably stick in Ron DeSantis’ craw like kindness.

A comedy classic

“Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” (1985) is what is called a “cult film.” Some think it’s annoying, like the title character. But for those of us who find ourselves quoting it constantly (“I’m a loner, Dottie — a rebel,” “What’s the significance? I DON’T KNOW!” “Be sure to tell 'em Large Marge sent ya!”) it’s endlessly watchable.

Like the Rube Goldberg contraption that serves Pee-wee his breakfast cereal, it’s made out of a fantastic assortment of parts.

There is Pee-wee himself — in many ways a throwback to Harry Langdon, the infantile silent comedian of the 1920s. There’s the wonderful music by Danny Elfman, straight out of a Fellini film (it’s an homage to composer Nino Rota). There’s the basic plot, a nod to the 1948 movie classic “The Bicycle Thief.”

Large Marge, the ghostly truck driver, comes from a Red Sovine country song, “Phantom 309.” The dinosaur park in the desert, with the waitress who dreams of going to Paris, is from “The Petrified Forest.”

The references are offhand. They’re not there to be recognized or admired. They’re just thrown in there — like the Little Rascals making a stew with every ingredient they can find in the house. “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” is a seriously weird film that does not — in any way, at any point — take itself seriously. That’s why it is, not just director Tim Burton’s first big film, but also to this day his best one.

Alas, Pee-wee’s next film, “Big Top Pee-wee” (1988) was a comedown.

The writers made the fatal mistake of putting Pee-wee in a circus. Charlie Chaplin (“The Circus”) and the Marx Brothers (“At the Circus”) made the same error. The logic is clear: these guys are all great clowns. But that’s precisely why it isn’t funny to see them in a circus.

The Marx Brothers are funny when they’re turning a drawing room into a circus, not when they’re turning a circus into a circus. Pee-wee is funny when he’s in a biker bar, telling a room full of tough, tattooed hell-raisers to pipe down: “I’m TRYING to use the PHONE!”

Child's play

If his later movie career was spotty, “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” the CBS children’s show that Reubens appeared in from 1986 to 1990, was a triumph.

From the wild sets, by an artist team including Wayne White, Gary Painter and Phil Trumbo, to the memorable supporting cast (Laurence Fishburne, as a gheri-curled cowboy, got his start of the show), it was like nothing that had ever been seen by kids, or adults.

“Pee-wee’s Playhouse" was a strange show. Strange, because it was simultaneously camp, and completely innocent. Characters like Jambi the Genie (John Paragon) and Miss Yvonne (Lynne Marie Stewart) were — it would be fair to say — campy. Ambiguous. Yet there was nothing adult about the humor. That a show could have a gay sensibility, without being sexually suggestive, is a level of nuance that today’s culture warriors would have a hard time wrapping their heads around.

Ruebens' own legacy is complicated. Several run-ins with the law have tarnished his reputation. But his comedy, and his signature character, were one-of-a-kind. So was his nerve.

Following a scandalous arrest in an adult theater that had the nation snickering, Pee-wee finally came before the public microphones in 1991. It was an MTV Music Awards show. The familiar, bow-tied figure walked up to the microphones.

What would he say? What could he possibly say?

What he said was: “Heard any good jokes lately?”

This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Paul Reubens death: Pee-wee Herman leaves behind weird legacy