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David Poland

By David Poland poland@moviecitynews.com

Knocking Up Pee Wee

Apatow developing Pee-wee Herman pic
Pee-Wee has finally gotten into high school. He is mocked by the other kids because of his relentlessly upbeat personality and his need to shave 4 times a day to avoid the appearance of a beard.
When the sweet, shy girl who sits two seats away from him (Jessica Alba) drops her books, Pee-Wee helps. He tells her about his new bike. She tells him about her new bong. Thinking that this “bong” is some kind of bike horn, he agrees to come see it.
When he arrives, the house is full of smoke and stoned friends. It turns out that she is an emancipated minor who made a bundle as a a commercial actress when she was between 6 and 8. Pee-Wee, refusing to smoke, gets a contact high within minutes. Before you know it, Shy Girl has his pants off, is impressed by his surprisingly John Holmes-like male member, and ends up smashing his head against the headboard of her bed as she takes advantage of him and he imagines various talking animals floating above, telling him it’s going to be okay.
The next morning, he wakes up in his bed, pajama tops on, but no bottoms.
Cut to month later… Shy Girl has news. She’s pregnant and it’s Pee-Wee’s. He isn’t sure what she is talking about. But Jamby and Mappy know.
They go to the OB, where Pee Wee sees Shy Girl’s vagina out fo the corner of his eye and passes out.
From then on, he is more careful to focus on the monitors and things go surprisingly well… until he finds out that he has cancer.
With just weeks to live, he decides he needs to go find EG Daily and figure out where it went wrong for them. She was the one who really loved him… and his bike.
It turns out that EG is now played by Leslie Mann and is married to a newly thin Seth Rogan, who is a pot dealer in Santa Fe. Pee Wee eventually surprises her with his unexpected manhood. But it turns out she is cheating on her husband with a few other guys… one representing her lost sexual side (James Franco), one representing her dream of being a poet (a fully naked Jason Segal), another biker guy who is married to an Oscar winner (Jesse James), and Pee-Wee, who represents the lost bike years.
Pee Wee goes back home and faces the now about-to-give-birth Shy Girl. She has decided on a natural birth with no drugs, but her delivery room is filled with pot smoke, easing her pain. When the baby comes out, he’s wearing a bow tie… and a head full of extremely curly hair. A knowing wink from Jonah Hill sets up a sequel.
End credits over Pee Wee trying to change his first diaper. Feces and urine fly… hilarity ensues.
The End.

8 Responses to “Knocking Up Pee Wee”

  1. mysteryperfecta says:

    Geez, spoiler alert, DP!

  2. The Big Perm says:

    This is awesome news.

  3. Hallick says:

    From the Variety article:
    “Let’s face it, the world needs more Pee-wee Herman,” Apatow told Daily Variety. “I am so excited to be working with Paul Reubens — who is an extraordinary and ground-breaking actor and writer. It’s so great to watch him return with such relevance.”
    He’s hardly the first person to do this, but when people like Apatow either say or write sentences like the above, do they realize how impersonal and dessicated their feelings actually come off? I mean, is it just the way it’s written or do they actually speak in this formal/obsequious tone of a press release?
    I guess it would read more naturally like, “I,am, SO EXCITED to be working with Paul Reubens”; or he could have even gone with a plain, “I’m so excited to be working with Paul Reubens!”, which at least reads the way somebody might verbalize their extreme excitement over working with one of their idols.
    You cannot end a sentence containing the words “I am so excited” with a fucking ritalin-guided period of all things. Even The Pointer Sisters knew that (oops, wait, nevermind – apparently they didn’t know that. No wonder I hate that song…).

  4. christian says:

    Awesome. Seeing the revamped Pee Wee Herman show was a wonderful experience and Reubens deserves this renewal.

  5. BrandonS says:

    Hell. Yes.

  6. Cadavra says:

    David: You think you’re joking!

  7. Chucky in Jersey says:

    Judd Apatow movies … for those who like to beat their meat.

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This is probably going to sound petty, but Martin Scorsese insisting that critics see his film in theaters even though it’s going straight to Netflix and then not screening it in most American cities was a watershed moment for me in this theatrical versus streaming debate.

I completely respect when a filmmaker insists that their movie is meant to be seen in the theater, but the thing is, you got to actually make it possible to see it in the theater. Some movies may be too small for that, and that’s totally OK.

When your movie is largely financed by a streaming service and is going to appear on that streaming service instantly, I don’t really see the point of pretending that it’s a theatrical film. It just seems like we are needlessly indulging some kind of personal fantasy.

I don’t think that making a feature film length production that is going to go straight to a video platform is some sort of “step down.“ I really don’t. Theatrical exhibition as we know it is dying off anyway, for a variety of reasons.

I should clarify myself because this thread is already being misconstrued — I’m talking about how the movie is screened in advance. If it’s going straight to Netflix, why the ritual of demanding people see it in the theater?

There used to be a category that everyone recognized called “TV movie” or “made for television movie” and even though a lot of filmmakers considered that déclassé, it seems to me that probably 90% of feature films fit that description now.

Atlantis has mostly sunk into the ocean, only a few tower spires remain above the waterline, and I’m increasingly at peace with that, because it seems to be what the industry and much of the audience wants. We live in an age of convenience and information control.

Only a very elite group of filmmakers is still allowed to make movies “for theaters“ and actually have them seen and judged that way on a wide scale. Even platform releasing seems to be somewhat endangered. It can’t be fought. It has to be accepted.

9. Addendum: I’ve been informed that it wasn’t Scorsese who requested that the Bob Dylan documentary only be screened for critics in theaters, but a Netflix representative indicated the opposite to me, so I just don’t know what to believe.

It’s actually OK if your film is not eligible for an Oscar — we have a thing called the Emmys. A lot of this anxiety is just a holdover from the days when television was considered culturally inferior to theatrical feature films. Everybody needs to just get over it.

In another 10 to 20 years they’re probably going to merge the Emmys in the Oscars into one program anyway, maybe they’ll call it the Contentys.

“One of the fun things about seeing the new Quentin Tarantino film three months early in Cannes (did I mention this?) is that I know exactly why it’s going to make some people furious, and thus I have time to steel myself for the takes.

Back in July 2017, when it was revealed that Tarantino’s next project was connected to the Manson Family murders, it was condemned in some quarters as an insulting and exploitative stunt. We usually require at least a fig-leaf of compassion for the victims in true-crime adaptations, and even Tarantino partisans like myself – I don’t think he’s made a bad film yet – found ourselves wondering how he might square his more outré stylistic impulses with the depiction of a real mass murder in which five people and one unborn child lost their lives.

After all, it’s one thing to slice off with gusto a fictional policeman’s ear; it’s quite another to linger over the gory details of a massacre that took place within living memory, and which still carries a dread historical significance.

In her essay The White Album, Joan Didion wrote: “Many people I know in Los Angeles believe that the Sixties ended abruptly on August 9, 1969, ended at the exact moment when word of the murders on Cielo Drive traveled like brushfire through the community, and in a sense this is true.”

Early in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, as Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt’s characters drive up the hill towards Leo’s bachelor pad, the camera cranes up gently to reveal a street sign: Cielo Drive. Tarantino understands how charged that name is; he can hear the Molotov cocktails clinking as he shoulders the crate.

As you may have read in the reviews from Cannes, much of the film is taken up with following DiCaprio and Pitt’s characters – a fading TV actor and his long-serving stunt double – as they amusingly go about their lives in Los Angeles, while Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate is a relatively minor presence. But the spectre of the murders is just over the horizon, and when the night of the 9th finally arrives, you feel the mood in the cinema shift.

No spoilers whatsoever about what transpires on screen. But in the audience, as it became clear how Tarantino was going to handle this extraordinarily loaded moment, the room soured and split, like a pan of cream left too long on the hob. I craned in, amazed, but felt the person beside me recoil in either dismay or disgust.

Two weeks on, I’m convinced that the scene is the boldest and most graphically violent of Tarantino’s career – I had to shield my eyes at one point, found myself involuntarily groaning “oh no” at another – and a dead cert for the most controversial. People will be outraged by it, and with good reason. But in a strange and brilliant way, it takes Didion’s death-of-the-Sixties observation and pushes it through a hellfire-hot catharsis.

Hollywood summoned up this horror, the film seems to be saying, and now it’s Hollywood’s turn to exorcise it. I can’t wait until the release in August, when we can finally talk about why.

~ Robbie Collin