Matt Wolf wasn’t Paul Reubens’ first choice to direct a documentary about his life. Nobody was, really. From the outset of the project that would become “Pee-wee as Himself,” Reubens insisted that he could—and should—direct his own narrative. It created frequent clashes with Wolf, the 43-year-old director who brought the story of the actor otherwise known as Pee-wee Herman to the screen in a two-part documentary series for HBO. This struggle lies under the surface of many documentaries, where subjects’ desire for a hand on the wheel conflicts with directorial vision and independence. “Pee-wee as Himself,” however, turns this subtext into text. Throughout the nearly three-and-a-half-hour exploration of the actor’s life and career, Reubens and Wolf (who remains off screen) interact in a relationship both cooperative and contentious.
But the pair persisted, with Wolf’s team digging through a vast archive of footage and photos, as well as conducting new interviews. This yielded an in-depth, unflinching look at the performer’s life and career. Reubens, who died of cancer in July 2023, wouldn’t live to see the completed project himself.
Tell me about the day that you met Paul.
There was a moment of sort of starstruck silence for me, but that pretty quickly faded. I just started to have a normal conversation with him, but right out of the gate, it was intense. He said, “I want to direct a documentary myself, but everybody is advising me against it, and I don’t understand why.” So I said back, “Well, I’m here to talk to you about me directing a documentary. So why don’t we have a conversation to see if there might be a way for us to collaborate and develop a process that works for you?” That began what would become
hundreds of hours of conversations.
Part of this project involves the relationship between you and Paul. He wanted to direct his own thing, and you had to step in as a director and find a way to get your vision across. Can you talk about that relationship?
I could talk to you for 20 hours about this. I think that the film shows it. There was a power struggle between us, and I think, while Paul felt he had a strong perspective on his story, the larger issue was that he had lost control of his personal narrative in the media. So there was a lot of trepidation and anxiety about allowing a documentary filmmaker like myself, particularly a younger person, to take the reins and be at the helm of telling his story. That premise unto itself was very confounding to Paul. That said, I think he was a smart and savvy enough person to know that somebody else may have had a unique perspective to tell his story, and that he chose me. Paul wanted to be involved in a very comprehensive way—I don’t think because he even had a particular vision of the film, but because the idea of losing control was terrifying to him.
You open Part 2 on this topic, with a very fun scene of Paul essentially pranking you by FaceTiming you and saying, “I want to be in the room helping dictate the interviews with people who aren’t myself.” Before you knew this was a bit, what exactly was running through your head?
That was not unlike many conversations I had with Paul that weren’t a joke. So, you know, you see me laughing, but it’s not because I think it’s funny. It’s because that was sort of my way of dealing with curveballs that were coming to me every day. Paul definitely tested boundaries and tested the limits, and I had to roll with it. I had to engage with him every day and to field requests that were sometimes outside of the realm of what I was comfortable with as a documentary filmmaker. So, you know, at the same time, Paul had an incredible sense of humor. He was the funniest person I ever met, and we had a lot of fun together.
One of the things that really stood out to me in Part 1 is your love
for these ragtag productions of art that people make. I know
that you studied under Kelly Reichardt and grew up watching
queer and independent cinema. How do you think those interests fit into the Pee-wee project you made?
What appeals to me about Pee-wee Herman, and Paul as an artist, is that he was a world-builder. And I think that people can still be world-builders in really scrappy ways. We might call that sensibility punk, do-it-yourself, work with what you have, learn by doing. That’s just one way to look at it, and it was the kind of cultural moment of punk. I think that the way “The Pee-wee Herman Show” came together is deeply inspiring to me. It was a bunch of people who are really talented and had diverse skills and interests who came together and brought their talents to do something unprecedented.
What would Paul think about the reception to this documentary?
Paul’s not here to speak for himself, so I’ve always been vigilant about not speaking for him. But you know, Paul’s a posthumous nominee. He was an executive producer on the film, and he’s nominated. I’m fairly confident that that would be so meaningful to him. I mean, Paul is one of the greatest artists ever in the medium of television. He used television as an artistic medium, and to be recognized by peers, I know how much that meant to Paul, and I think being nominated would have been really important to him. I don’t know what he would have thought of the film. I don’t know how the film would have come out if the circumstances were different, but I know that what’s happening with the film now is something that would be meaningful to Paul.
A version of this story originally appeared in the comedy issue of TheWrap’s awards magazine.
