The Director’s Chair: Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure

You know who I am…but you don’t know why I’m here!
I go wherever I want…whenever I want!
And with that out of the way, I’d like to introduce you all to The Director’s Chair!

Yes, I left my cushy spot in the Wrestling section to come to the hallowed halls of the Movie section and run amuck. Truth be told, I got a huge job opportunity that, although will be taking far more hours of my life than I have ever worked, I couldn’t pass up. Because of this, I have had to give up my throne of the Wrestling kingdom, at least until I get a more stable schedule.

What is The Director’s Chair? Glad you asked! You may not know this, but I LOVE me some movies! Every Monday, I’m in a cushy theater chair watching what the cinematic universe that is movies has to offer, and although I’m no film student and couldn’t tell you what the hell “AMC Laser” means, I thoroughly enjoy learning, and that’s what this is all about!

I have chosen ten directors and five films from each director. I will review one film per week both from a purely enjoyable standpoint and as a shallow attempt at being a film buff. Along these two reviews will be some fun facts, a guest appearance or two, and (hopefully) TONS of feedback!

So which of the many many acclaimed auteurs have I decided to cover first?

Timothy Walter Burton was born August 25, 1958 in Burbank, CA. He went to CalArts and later even worked for Disney, as a concept artist, art director, and designer. As one would guess, he didn’t exactly fit the Disney mold, and none of his concepts were used. Could you imagine a Tim Burton version of The Fox & the Hound? Soon thereafter, he found his voice and amplified it with work that would transcend stop-motion animation. He was handpicked by Paul Reubens to direct his feature film Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, and allowed him creative input to bring Reuben’s small tv-show world onto the big screen.
Beetlejuice was next, but the true stamp of approval for Burton came with 1989’s Batman. This entry into comic book lore catapulted Burton to superstardom. His list of films afterwards are some of the most unique films ever, with each one feeling distinctly “Burtonesque.” Of course, this would eventually become detrimental, as critics considered it as more of a crutch than a trademark.
For my money, Burton is one of the greats, and even IF he falls back on his “look,” quite a bit, there is almost always something beneath the stop-motion. His movies focus on isolation, fish out of water, familial strife, father/son relationships, and as out of this world as his characters may be, there always seems to be some grounded sentiment towards their plights. But what about as a director? Let’s find out…

Specs:
Runtime – 1 Hour 31 Minutes
Release Date – August 9, 1985
Filming Locations – Southern California
Budget – $6 Million
Gross US & Canada – $40,940,662
Trivia: This movie may not had been made by Burton were it not for the great Shelly Duvall. She was in Burton’s short film Frankenweenie and was friends with Reubens. She made the connection, and the rest is history.
Rating: 6/10

The 80s were weird, man. So this guy Paul Reubens tried out for SNL and didn’t quite make the cut, but he befriended Phil Hartman, which I think is a much bigger win. He and Phil helped to fine-tune this character known as Pee-Wee Herman, and the dude took off. In about four to five years, his idea to do film based on Pollyanna was scrapped, and he opted for a story about his titular character losing his bike. I was born in 86, and I recall this film both entertaining and terrifying me over and over. I hadn’t seen it in YEARS, so revisiting it was somewhat of a treat. Revisiting it as a film critic, however, left much to be desired.

To be frank, the film is one of those movies you either thoroughly enjoy or eye-rollingly despise. I don’t think there is an in-between. When you circle a film around a fake character (think MacGruber, Joe Dirt, anything Will Ferrell was in during his early career), there is really only one thing that pulls it out of the ridiculous, and that’s heart. If the film doesn’t have it, you’re left with empty laughs and a whole lot of awkward glances to your left and right. Assuming you had little by the way of knowledge of this man-child, you can’t help but admire his undeniable love for his bicycle, and the trek to The Alamo he takes to get it. From a purely viewing standpoint, there’s some charm in the character, even while he’s arguing with his trademark, “I know you are, but what am I?” Still, even with the charm and the adoration of the story between a man and his machine, there is a hollowness that that makes this feel like a series of episodes rather than one story. The disjointedness is barely bridged by the story, giving a sense of being able to miss some scenes altogether just to get to your favorite. Maybe this is the joy of the film; maybe it’s to its detriment. Either way, it’s freakin Pee-Wee Herman.

This is Tim Burton’s directorial debut, but if you think that he played it safe, that just isn’t true. Pee-Wee’s outlandish stage design work hand in hand with Tim Burton’s keen eye for things that are Burton well before that became a thing. The juxtaposition of bright color palette against dark moments and scenes is present throughout, and there are so many hints about Burton’s future within this film that I’m not even sure he knew it quite yet. Look no further than Large Marge and her presence on screen as a moment and as a character. She was the precursor for so many Burtonesque characters in his future.

Speaking of Burtonesque, enter Danny Elfman, who I have had a soft spot since he scored the film that helped define my childhood (a film we’ll get to in this list). It’s Elfman’s first foray into film scores, and he kills it. Similar to Burton, there was no basis as to what Elfman was going to be. No groundwork created or foundation to be built. This is the groundwork, the foundation, and it’s Elfman before that was a sound.

The film is ridiculous, there’s no doubting that at all, and with a ridiculous film, one must fully embrace it in order to make a quality film. If the director doesn’t either a) believe in the vision or b) have a vision of his own, then the film will fail, and at no point during this film was there a moment of wavering confidence. Every scene is thoroughly Pee-Wee and thoroughly Burton. Consider the fact that this film is 36 years old, yet is still vibrant, unique, and within a bubble so defined that it’s undeniably its own film. There is no other Pee-Wee Herman, and I’m not sure this would be possible had it not been for the keen eye of an up and coming director in Burton.

In a movie full of moments as described above, there are any number of scenes to choose from, but for my money, there’s a definite number one and two for me. Large Marge will forever haunt me, and the direction of the scene is relatively simple, save for the stopmotion jump scare moment. Pee-Wee stands in front of a comically large big rig, with the lights outlining his body until he gets in and we get a few shots of Marge’s unblinking eyes, telling the story of the worst accident ever all while Herman emotes his displeasure. It’s great, dark, funny, and doesn’t overstay its welcome. Still, there is something to be said about that opening scene, which literally and figuratively sets the stage for the rest of the film. The over-the-top invention making breakfast, Pee-Wee giving voice to inanimate objects, the comically large knife and toothbrush, the Mr. T cereal, it’s all just ridiculous and I don’t think that anyone else could have worked hand-in-hand with Ruebens like Burton did to get this done.

There ya have it! The first edition of The Director’s Chair is in the books! We got four more weeks of Burton, so get ready! Who else do you think is on the list?! Any director you want on the list? Let me kno!

DUECES!