Movies
Deep-dive docuseries reveals the ‘Warhol’ you never knew
You’ll like him for the human being he turns out to have been hiding all along

You might think that more than three decades after his death, there would be no need for another documentary about Andy Warhol.
Arguably the most iconic cultural figure of the late 20th century, his image, as much as his artwork, is so familiar to us that we take his fame for granted – and that’s exactly why we need it. Our familiarity leads us to assimilate the surface details of his life without pondering what lies beneath – something that the aggressively shallow artist himself almost certainly intended. After all, as we are deftly and elegantly reminded by the Ryan Murphy-produced “The Andy Warhol Diaries” (which begins streaming on Netflix March 9), Andy’s greatest and most ambitious work of art was Andy himself.
The titular diaries were published in 1989, two years after Warhol died at 58 due to complications from a gall bladder surgery. He had begun it in 1976, dictating daily entries over the phone for his longtime friend and collaborator Pat Hackett to type up. After his death, she compiled them with minimal notation and published them – something that Warhol had always planned. As Hackett (continuing her role as his editor and envoy) points out onscreen in the documentary, that day came much sooner than anyone expected.
When it hit the stands, response to the book was largely lukewarm. Poring through the minutiae of Andy’s daily life for scandalous tidbits about the galaxy of celebrities with whom he surrounded himself, readers with a hunger for gossip may have come away satisfied, but those who were hoping for more insight from behind the plastic curtain of his carefully cultivated public image found themselves sorely disappointed. There were plenty of pithy observations, maybe, and glimpses into the workings of his mind through his thoughts and feelings about people and things, perhaps – but there was no deeper discussion of his inner life, nor any exploration of how it may have expressed itself in the creation of his art.
This seeming dearth of personal revelation was not the only thing going against the book. The art world, which saw his post-1960s output as insignificant in comparison to his earlier work, had developed a dismissive attitude toward all things Warhol, branding him as an exploitative sellout who had sacrificed relevance for commercialism and fame; and his seeming refusal to address the AIDS epidemic – even as so many other queer artists were driven to activism – had disillusioned many of his fans. All these factors combined to result in a general disregard of his diaries as a final piece of glitzy nothingness from a man for whom lack of substance was the cornerstone of a career.
That was 33 years ago, however, and in the intervening time appreciation for Andy Warhol has exploded beyond anything he ever experienced during his lifetime. The influence of his legacy – not just the paintings, photographs, films, tchotchkes and other ephemera he prolifically produced for most of his adult life, but the “taste-making” through which he launched or elevated the careers of countless other legendary figures – has trickled into our cultural landscape over the years and shaped it with all the irresistible force of a glacier, so much that it is perhaps impossible to trace all the interconnected currents that have tangentially sprung from it back to their source. With the passage of time, and the 20/20 hindsight that comes with it, we can now see things with a widened perspective – and suddenly, Andy’s musings are a lot more revealing than most of us thought.
In the new six-episode miniseries, written and directed by Andrew Rossi, we don’t see or hear much about the “Factory Era” that cemented Warhol’s place as an architect of pop culture; those days were long over by the time he started the diary. Instead, the series essentially begins with Warhol’s 1968 shooting by Valerie Solanas – an incident after which the artist said he was always experiencing his life as if he were “watching TV” – and takes us from there through the ‘70s and ‘80s, mostly focused on events referenced in the diary but supplemented by “now-it-can-be-told” illumination from Hackett and a collection of other survivors from Warhol’s inner circle, who are all on hand to provide their own insights, reactions, and personal reminiscences. It’s this input that helps us to read between the lines and recognize, perhaps for the first time, the true Andy peeking out at us – and he is surprisingly, heartbreakingly human.
The Warhol we meet here is the one he kept hidden during his life. Though he was never “in the closet,” he wasn’t exactly “out,” either, cultivating an image of asexuality that lingers to this day – yet in the diary his gayness is refreshingly on display. Moreover, though he elides and omits details that might have been too revealing for all parties involved, his friends fill in the gaps enough to reveal that he was engaged in at least two long-term relationships – three if you count Jean-Michel Basquiat – that had profound impact on both his life and his work. Though his sometimes glib, often insensitive comments about AIDS may shock us, they are mitigated by his frequent and obsessive complaints about his age and his health, which speak volumes about the omnipresent fear of mortality that haunted him and kept him moored to the Catholic beliefs of his upbringing. Perhaps most humanizing of all, despite the coldness of his demeanor and the distance at which he seemed determined to keep himself, the heartfelt emotions of his former collaborators and companions as they remember him on film provide proof of the deep connections it was possible for him to form with others.
As one might expect from a life as well documented as Warhol’s, much of the diary’s material is comprehensively supplemented by photos, films, drawings, and other archival embellishments; and to make things truly immersive, the diary excerpts are read to us by Andy himself – or rather, by a cutting-edge AI voice reconstruction layered over the voice of gifted performance artist Bill Irwin.
This latter flourish has generated considerable controversy from some critics, who question the authenticity of a documentary that leans so heavily into such elaborate artifice. But Warhol (as the series reminds us, multiple times) famously claimed to wish he was a machine, and there is something about hearing his words through the fusion of mechanism and artistry that lends his words – which are delivered, in true Warhol style, with as little emotion as possible – an augmented sense of meaning. Just like a soup can, their banality is transcended through duplication and presentation.
And what does “The Andy Warhol Diaries” tell us about the artist’s work? Does it offer a key that at last will allow us to decode his creative process and understand how the forces of the turbulent inner life at which it hints revealed themselves in his art? Is such a thing even possible?
You’ll have to watch to find out – and even if you’re already a Warhol superfan, you’ll likely come out the other side liking him, just a little bit more, for the human being he turns out to have been hiding all along.
Movies
‘Pee-wee’ spills the tea in outstanding new documentary
Reubens’s sexuality emerges as the show’s focus

Most of us who have lived long enough to get nostalgic for our formative years have, by now, watched enough documentaries about a beloved entertainment icon from our past to know what to expect when a new one comes along.
Such offerings are typically slick biographical portraits blending archival material with newly filmed “talking head” reminiscences and commentaries, and perhaps punctuated by eye-catching animations or other flourishes to add an extra layer of visual interest; heavy on the nostalgia and mostly reverent in tone, they satisfy us with pleasant memories, supplement our knowledge with behind-the-history insights and revelations, and leave us – ideally – with a renewed appreciation and a reinforced feeling of comfortable familiarity. Many of them are little more than retrospectives, more glossy tribute than in-depth profile; occasionally, a few go beyond the surface to give us a deeper sense of personal connection with their subject – but rarely enough, even in the best of them, to make us feel as if we know them well.
No matter how many of these docs you have seen, however, or jaded your expectations may be when you approach it, “Pee-wee as Himself” is still going to surprise you.
Directed by filmmaker Matt Wolf, the two-part HBO docuseries – which premiered May 23 and is now streaming on Max – is built around material culled from 40 hours of interview footage with the late Paul Reubens (the creator and performer behind nerdy, manic cultural phenomenon and children’s show host “Pee-wee Herman,” for anyone that needs to be told), and conducts a “guided tour” of Reubens’ singular career in the limelight. The first installment traces a path from his Florida childhood through his early adventures as an actor and performance artist in Los Angeles to his rapid rise to fame and the popularity of his carefully crafted alter-ego; part two continues the story to explore the expansion of his fame through the phenomenon of “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” but soon shifts gears to cover his sudden fall from grace after a notorious “public indecency” arrest in an adult theater, and the subsequent accusations of collecting “child pornography” that unfairly branded him as a pedophile in the public eye — and comes full circle to document his return to favor as an underdog hero for the generation that had grown up watching him.
Besides its detailed chronicle of these already-well-known chapters in Reubens’ life, however, Wolf’s doc (and Reubens, via frequent commentary throughout) delves into publicly uncharted territory to give us a look at something we’ve never been allowed to see before: Paul Reubens himself.
That includes, of course, removing any ambiguity that might remain about the sexuality of the man behind the bow tie, who never publicly identified as gay before his death from cancer in 2023. It’s not so much a “coming out” — after all, he artfully teased his queerness to fans for years — as it is a dropping of pretense. There’s no need for a definitive statement announcing something that everybody already knew, anyway.
That’s not to say he skirts the issue as he delivers his full-frame close-up testimonial to the camera; on the contrary, he reflects often and with bittersweet candor about the carefully-managed matter of his sexuality – or the public’s perception of it, at any rate – with the matter-of-fact eloquence of someone who’s spent a lot of time thinking about it. He openly discusses his choice to keep the closet door closed on his personal life in order to preserve Pee-wee’s ambiguously wholesome yet irresistibly subversive persona in the public’s imagination, and to abandon his openly queer life (as well as a loving long term relationship, one of the series’ biggest “reveals”) to do so.”I was as out as you could be,” he reflects with rueful irony, “and then I went back in the closet.”
Indeed, it’s Reubens’s sexuality that ultimately emerges as the show’s core focus — even more than the rich treasure trove of personal photos, home movies, behind-the-scenes footage, and all the other fan-thrilling delights it provides — and gives it a larger significance, perhaps than even the man himself. It’s a thread that runs through his story, impacting his choices and the trajectory of his career, and reflecting the familiar shared experience of many audience members who may be able to relate; later, it manifests on a societal level, as Wolf and his subject explore the homophobic attitudes behind the legal persecution that would bring his rising star into a tailspin and hang over his reputation for the rest of his life. It serves as both a reminder of the power of cultural bigotry to repress queerness and a cautionary tale about the personal cost of repressing oneself.
A good number of Reubens’ longtime friends (like Cassandra Petersen, aka “Elvira, Mistress of the Dark,” “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” costar David Arquette, and former “girlfriend” Debi Mazar, who provided support, acceptance, and companionship in the wake of his legal troubles) come along for the ride, offering their own reminiscences and insights into the official record, as well as lesser-known members of an inner circle that comprised the late artist’s chosen family. Yet all these testimonials, authentic as they may be, are not what enable “Pee-wee as Himself” to bring us closer to the real Paul Reubens. It’s Reubens himself who does that.
Maintaining an ambiguously hostile edge in his interviews, bringing to light a clash for control between himself and director Wolf with as much clarity as he illuminates the vast archival material that is shown to document his career, he demonstrates firsthand the need to manage his own narrative, balking at, even openly resisting, certain questions and interpretations that arise throughout. It gives the real Reubens the same vague menace with which Pee-wee was also infused — and also creates a sort of meta-narrative, in which the conflict between subject and director must also be resolved before the story can truly achieve closure, calling into question whether Reubens (a veteran of avant-garde theater and lifelong fan of the circus) might not be adding yet another layer of mystery and performance to his image even as he gets honest publicly for the very first time.
That closure eventually comes in the form of a voice recording made by Reubens the day before his death — after a six year battle with lung cancer (he was a heavy smoker, another personal detail he painstakingly hid from the public) which, save for those in his innermost circle, he never revealed until the end — in which he delivers a final message to the world. With it, he finally accomplishes what he never could during his life, and lets us see, at last, who he was when he wasn’t being Pee-wee.
And it’s a beautiful thing.
Movies
Gay director on revealing the authentic Pee-wee Herman
New HBO doc positions Reubens as ‘groundbreaking’ performance artist

In the new HBO two-part documentary, “Pee-wee as Himself,” director Matt Wolf gives viewers a never-before-seen look into the personal life of Paul Reubens, the comedic actor behind the much loved television persona, Pee-wee Herman.
Filmed before Reubens passed away in 2023 from cancer, Wolf and his creative team created the riveting documentary, interspersing several interviews, more than 1,000 hours of archival footage, and tens of thousands of personal photos.
Determined to set the record straight about what really happened, Reubens discussed his diverse influences, growing up in the circus town of Sarasota, Fla., and his avant-garde theater training at the California Institute of the Arts.
Ruebens joined the Groundlings improv group, where he created the charismatic Pee-wee Herman. He played the quirky character during the Saturday morning show, “Pee-wee’s Playhouse,” and in numerous movies, like “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” and “Big Top Pee-wee.” He also brought Pee-wee to Broadway, with “The Pee-wee Herman Show.”
To get an enigma such as Reubens to open up was no easy task for Wolf.
“I felt determined to get Paul to open up and to be his authentic self,” acknowledged Wolf at a recent press conference. “And I was being tested and I wanted to meet my match in a way so I didn’t feel frustrated or exhausted, I felt determined but I also, it was thrilling to go this deep. I’ve never been able, or I don’t know if I ever will, go this deep with another human being to interview them in an intimate way for over 40 hours.”
Wolf described the collaborative interview experience as a dream, “like we were in a bubble where time didn’t matter.” he also felt a deep connection to the material, having come of age watching “Pee-wee’s Playhouse.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to put words to it at the time, but I think it was my first encounter with art that I felt emotionally involved in,” noted Wolf.
“He continued: “I recognize that that show created a space for a certain kind of radical acceptance where creativity thrives. And as a gay filmmaker, I also recognize things like Pee-wee Herman marrying a bowl of fruit salad at a slumber party or dancing in high heels to the song, ‘Fever.’ That stuff spoke to me. So that was my connection to it.”
During the documentary, Reubens comes out as a gay man.
“Paul went into this process wanting to come out,” said Wolf. “That was a decision he had made. He was aware that I was a gay filmmaker and had made portraits of other gay artists. That was the work of mine he was attracted to, as I understood. And I wanted, as a younger person, to support him in that process, but he also was intensely sensitive that the film would overly emphasize that; or, focused entirely from the lens of sexuality when looking at his story.”
Their complicated dynamic had an aspect of “push and pull” between them.
“I think that generational difference was both a source of connection and affinity and tension. And I do think that the level to which Paul discusses his relationships and intimacy and vulnerability and the poignant decision he made to go back into the closet. I do have to believe to some extent he shared that because of our connection.”
Wolf hopes that the “Pee-wee as Himself” positions Reubens as one of the most “groundbreaking” performance artists of his generation who in a singular way broke through into mainstream pop culture.
“I know he transformed me. He transformed how I see the world and where I went as a creative person. And it’s so clear that I am not alone in that feeling. For me, it was fairly abstract. I couldn’t necessarily put words to it. I think people who grew up on Pee-wee or were big fans of Pee-wee, seeing the film, I hope, will help them tap into intangible and specific ways how transformative his work was for them. It really is a gift to revisit early seminal experiences you had and to see how they reverberate in you.”
He added: “So, to me, this isn’t so much about saying Paul Reubens is a genius. I mean, that’s overly idealizing and I don’t like hero worship. It’s more about understanding why many of us have connected to his work and understanding where he lives within a legacy of performance art, television, and also, broader pop culture.”
Movies
‘Things Like This’ embraces formula and plus-size visibility
Enjoyable queer romcom challenges conventions of the genre

There’s a strange feeling of irony about a spring movie season stacked with queer romcoms – a genre that has felt conspicuously absent on the big screen since the disappointing reception met by the much-hyped “Bros” in 2022 – at a time when pushback against LGBTQ visibility is stronger than it’s been for 40 years.
Sure, part of the reason is the extended timeline required for filmmaking, which tells us, logically, that the numerous queer love stories hitting theaters this year – including the latest, the Manhattan-set indie “Things Like This,” which opened in limited theaters last weekend – began production long before the rapid cultural shift that has taken place in America since a certain convicted fraudster’s return to the White House.
That does not, however, make them any less welcome; on the contrary, they’re a refreshing assertion of queer existence that serves to counter-balance the hateful, politicized rhetoric that continues to bombard our community every day. In fact, the word “refreshing” is an apt description of “Things Like This,” which not only celebrates the validity – and joy – of queer love but does so in a story that disregards “Hollywood” convention in favor of a more authentic form of inclusion than we’re ever likely to see in a mainstream film
Written, starring, and directed by Max Talisman and set against the vibrant backdrop of New York City, it’s the story of two gay men named Zack – Zack #1 (Talisman) is a plus-sized hopeful fantasy author with a plus-sized personality and a promising-but-unpublished first novel, and Zack #2 (Joey Pollari) an aspiring talent agent dead-ended as an assistant to his exploitative “queen-bee” boss (Cara Buono) – who meet at an event and are immediately attracted to each other. Though Zack #2 is resigned to his unsatisfying relationship with longtime partner Eric (Taylor Trensch), he impulsively agrees to a date the following night, beginning an on-again/off-again entanglement that causes both Zacks to re-examine the trajectories of their respective lives – and a lot of other heavy baggage – even as their tentative and unlikely romance feels more and more like the workings of fate.
Like most romcoms, it relies heavily on familiar tropes – adjusted for queerness, of course – and tends to balance its witty banter and starry-eyed sentiment with heart-tugging setbacks and crossed-wire conflicts, just to raise the stakes. The Zacks’ attempts at getting together are a series of “meet-cutes” that could almost be described as fractal, yet each of them seems to go painfully awry – mostly due to the very insecurities and self-doubts which make them perfect for each other. The main obstacle to their couplehood, however, doesn’t spring from these mishaps; it’s their own struggles with self-worth that stand in the way, somehow making theirs more of a quintessentially queer love story than the fact that both of them are men.
All that introspection – relatable as it may be – can be a downer without active energy to stir things up, but fortunately for “Things Like This,” there are the inevitable BFFs and extended circle of friends and family that can help to get the fun back on track. Each Zack has his own support team backing him up, from a feisty “work wife” (Jackie Cruz, “Orange is the New Black”) to a straight best friend (Charlie Tahan, “Ozark”) to a wise and loving grandma (veteran scene-stealer Barbara Barrie, “Breaking Away” and countless vintage TV shows) – that fuels the story throughout, providing the necessary catalysts to prod its two neurotic protagonists into taking action when they can’t quite get there themselves.
To be sure, Talisman’s movie – his feature film debut as a writer and director – doesn’t escape the usual pitfalls of the romcom genre. There’s an overall sense of “wish fulfillment fantasy” that makes some of its biggest moments seem a bit too good to be true, and there are probably two or three complications too many as it approaches its presumed happy ending; in addition, while it helps to drive the inner conflict for Zack #2’s character arc, throwing a homophobic and unsupportive dad (Eric Roberts) into the mix feels a bit tired, though it’s hard to deny that such family relationships continue to create dysfunction for queer people no matter how many times they’re called out in the movies – which means that it’s still necessary, regrettably, to include them in our stories.
And in truth, “calling out” toxic tropes – the ones that reflect society’s negative assumptions and perpetuate them through imitation – is part of Talisman’s agenda in “Things Like This,” which devotes its very first scene to shutting down any objections from “fat shamers” who might decry the movie’s “opposites attract” scenario as unbelievable. Indeed, he has revealed in interviews that he developed the movie for himself because of the scarcity of meaningful roles for plus-sized actors, and his desire to erase such conventional prejudices extends in every direction within his big-hearted final product.
Even so, there’s no chip-on-the-shoulder attitude to sour the movie’s spirit; what helps us get over its sometimes excessive flourishes of idealized positivity is that it’s genuinely funny. The dialogue is loaded with zingers that keep the mood light, and even the tensest scenes are laced with humor, none of which feels forced. For this, kudos go to Talisman’s screenplay, of course, but also to the acting – including his own. He’s eminently likable onscreen, with wisecracks that land every time and an underlying good cheer that makes his appeal even more visible; crucially, his chemistry with Pollari – who also manages to maintain a lightness of being at his core no matter how far his Zack descends into uncertainty – isn’t just convincing; it’s enviable.
Cruz is the movie’s “ace in the hole” MVP as Zack #2’s under-appreciated but fiercely loyal bestie, and Buono’s hilariously icy turn as his “boss from hell” makes for some of the film’s most memorable scenes. Likewise, Tahan, along with Margaret Berkowitz and Danny Chavarriaga, flesh out Zack #1’s friend group with a real sense of camaraderie that should be recognizable to anyone who’s ever been part of an eclectic crew of misfits. Trensch’s comedic “ickiness” as Zack #2’s soon-to-be-ex makes his scenes a standout; and besides bigger-name “ringers” Roberts and Barrie (whose single scene is the emotional climax of the movie), there’s also a spotlight-grabbing turn by Diane Salinger (iconic as Francophile dreamer Simone in “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure”) as the owner of a queer bar where the Zacks go on one of their dates.
With all that enthusiasm and a momentum driven by a sense of DIY empowerment, it’s hard to be anything but appreciative of “Things Like This,” no matter how much some of us might cringe at its more unbelievable romcom devices. After all, it’s as much a “feel-good” movie as it is a love story, and the fact that we actually do feel good when the final credits role is more than enough to earn it our hearty recommendation.
-
Arts & Entertainment1 day ago
Shakira cancels WorldPride concert
-
District of Columbia4 days ago
WorldPride hotel bookings hint at disappointing turnout
-
World Pride 20254 days ago
Kristine W on WorldPride, drag queens, and being ‘Love Personified’
-
Movies3 days ago
‘Pee-wee’ spills the tea in outstanding new documentary