I know I Am, But What Are You?

PEE-WEE'S BIG HOLIDAY (C+) - I'm resisting the urge to pen an epic essay about the lost dreams of the 1980s. But I'm boiling this down to a simpler formula.

It's this: Paul Reubens is too old to mug his way through a thinly written remake of his classic big-screen debut, "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure." And I'm too old to appreciate his silly once-meta humor without squirming in my easy chair and shaking my head like my dad did in 1985 watching his son howl in delight at the exploits of the mincing man-child.

Paul Reubens, 63, climbs up from the public shaming 25 years ago that knocked him from the height of his fame, and gets back into movies (albeit on TV screens streaming Netflix), but it's all too little and too late. Reubens doesn't have nearly the verve that once made Pee-Wee a force of nature and an ingenious artistic creation. He certainly has his moments here, but the mania of the character is now mostly a memory, and this low-budget production can't mask that fact.

Pee-Wee was hatched among the Groundlings in the '70s, and he gained traction with the rise of the new age of hip ironic comedy in the early '80s, which is when I saw his stage show in Chicago (where you could buy giant underpants among the merch in the lobby). "Big Adventure" was a brilliant head-trip, jolted to life by a talented director, Tim Burton, making his big-screen debut. Reubens also had Phil Hartman helping with the script; this time around, the soggy screenplay is the biggest drawback. Too many one-liners just sit there.

The hook this time is Pee-Wee's journey to find himself, inspired by a biker passing through town. The biker happens to be a real actor, the massive Joe Manganiello ("Magic Mike," HBO's "True Blood"), whom Pee-Wee doesn't recognize. The men hit it off immediately, bonding over their love of root-beer-barrel candy, and Joe urges Pee-Wee to expand his horizons beyond his beloved hometown of Fairville, inviting Pee-Wee to his birthday party coming up in five days at his Central Park mansion.

Pee-Wee takes the bait and hits the road, immediately falling in, inadvertently, with a girl-gang of bank robbers (Jessica Pohly, Stephanie Beatriz and Alia Shawkat) who rob him of his car, forcing him to rely on a series of strangers to get him to the Big Apple. Too often, though, the road trip figuratively goes nowhere. His misadventures are a faint echo of those in his "Big Adventure," as he meets up with: a corny old farmer and his marriage-minded daughters; four sassy hairdressers; a gruff backwoods mountain man; an Amish community; and a traveling salesman. A few other oddities land, though, thankfully. Pee-Wee's dreams and fever dreams about partying with bromantic partner Manganiello are, for no apparent reason, played out in Spanish and slowed to 33-and-a-third. His fast-talking way of extricating himself from the presence of others -- "Let me let you let me go" -- is charming. A visual joke involving a fake-disguise kit is worthy of his '80s oeuvre. 

But right from the start -- a Rube Goldberg wakeup call that cribs from the opening of "Big Adventure" -- the film traffics in ghosts of gags past. In one of many callbacks to the 1985 classic, we revisit Pee-Wee's fear of snakes. But where the original found a clever angle (via Pee-Wee's memorable rescue of animals from a pet store fire), this time the humor barely rises above Pee-Wee yelling "Blecchh!" a lot. (Reubens does manage to milk laughs with a ridiculously extended, very high-pitch squeal.)

It's Reubens' knack for such impossibly extended, awkward sight gags that milks the most mileage out of this road trip. In an instant comedy classic, Pee-Wee wows his Amish hosts by making silly squeaky noises (and faces) while squeezing a balloon. The scene lasts two full minutes (30 seconds to blow it up -- and get light-headed -- and 90 seconds to agonizingly deflate the balloon). It's a reminder of Reubens' unique blend of cutting-edge childishness, with a bonus Jerry Lewis mugging that could induce spit-takes.

Manganiello's a good sport, but he's not particularly funny as a fun-house version of himself, and neither are most of the other scenery chewers. (There are no ringers like Jan Hooks and her tour of the Alamo.) Reubens has no one to feed him the exuberance that inspires him to giggle or bounce around a movie frame. It's as if all of his old "Playhouse" pals packed up and departed years ago, leaving him with his cheap suit, rosy cheeks and antiquated antics. It's simply not as fun anymore.

It's not that I think Pee-Wee needs to grow up. I'm just afraid that I finally have.

BONUS TRACK
If you want to cut right to the balloon gag, here you go:


 
And a flashback to 1985: "Do I hear someone's stomach growling?"