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A legacy bigger than ‘Pee-Wee’
Reubens never came out despite character’s roots in camp
Even though most of us assumed he was gay, Paul Reubens never officially came out.
He scarcely had to, really. His public image – indelibly associated with a character whose name became essentially synonymous with his own – was built on a foundation of camp, and the children’s TV series that brought him into the households of millions of grateful parents was renowned for its ability to offer genuinely innocent entertainment for kids while simultaneously keeping the grown-ups in the room laughing with the kind of winking adult humor that would go right over the little ones’ heads. Much of that humor was laced with obvious queer subtext, and the overall look and tone of the show, from its kitschy design to its to Pee-Wee’s starry-eyed fondness for his friend Cowboy Curtis (as portrayed by a young Laurence Fishburne), made his queerness appear so obvious that coming out would be a mere formality. This was queer underground culture exploding into the mainstream under camouflage of whimsy, all being orchestrated by a master showman who had to know exactly what he was doing.
Yet in the public record, there was never any verification of Reubens’s place on the sexuality spectrum. Indeed, the facts favor a heterosexual orientation – a temporary “marriage” to Doris Duke heiress Chandi Heffner, concocted as an impromptu publicity stunt, and his long-term relationship with actress Debi Mazar, whom he credited with helping him overcome his depression after the notorious 1991 public indecency charge that derailed his career.
As to that incident, Reubens came to be as known for it as much as for being Pee-Wee. Arrested for public masturbation during a surprise police inspection at an adult theater in Sarasota, Fla., he avoided the misdemeanor charge with a plea bargain and 75 hours of community service – but the real punishment, which no court of law could stay, was assured as soon as the news of his salacious “crime” broke to the press the day after his arrest.
A victim of “cancel culture” before the term had ever been coined, he became the butt of 1,000 prurient jokes by late-night TV comedians; worse, he was the target of countless tabloid “exposés” playing to the alarmist fears and prejudices of religious conservatives. Both Reubens and his bow-tied alter-ego quickly became persona non grata in the eyes of pop culture.
A decade later, there was another scandal. In 2002, after Reubens was named by an informant in the child pornography case against fellow actor Jeffrey Jones, Los Angeles police raided his home and found images they claimed depicted minors engaged in sexual conduct; though the material consisted mostly of old beefcake magazines and other gay-themed vintage erotica, he was charged with misdemeanor possession. There was another plea bargain, this time leading to a three-year registration as a sex offender, but Reubens maintained his innocence, characterizing the images in question as art rather than pornography – an eternal debate that hardly mattered to anyone who had already made up their mind about him.
Incredibly, perhaps, that wasn’t the end of his story. In 2010, he mounted a new version of “The Pee-Wee Herman Show” stage performance that had originally launched the character in the early 1980s, and thanks to a shift in attitudes, coupled with inexorable childhood nostalgia from the now-grown fans of his TV show, the rebooted Pee-Wee was a hit once more. After a sold-out Los Angeles run, the production moved to Broadway for a limited engagement and played to equally packed houses.
Reubens would continue to be active. After several attempts to develop a new film project for the character – the first, “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure” (1985), had been a surprise sensation that established director Tim Burton as a star in his own right – he succeeded with Netflix’s “Pee-Wee’s Big Holiday” (2016), which took him on a cross-country quest fueled by his budding “bromance” with hunky actor Joe Manganiello. More overtly gay in subtext than any of his prior efforts, it still became a hit; in retrospect it felt like the moment when Reubens – and Pee-Wee, of course – finally achieved redemption.
Looking at the legacy he has left behind, however, perhaps he never really needed redemption. In the context of their time, his “crimes” were surely sensationalized by what is now an all-too-familiar pattern of culture warfare, in which the hardcore religious right, emboldened by the Reagan-era political maneuvering that amplified their influence and bent on enforced conformity to social “norms” as they defined them, embarked on a campaign to dismiss, demean, and demonize a beloved public figure they saw as dangerous. That he was never officially “out” was immaterial – what he represented was queer as could be, and that was all that mattered. They took him down with gleeful abandon, either way, because they recognized the subversive message of acceptance embedded in his goofy comedy.
They weren’t wrong. It’s easy to draw a direct line of influence between the subversive camp of “Pee-Wee’s Playhouse” and the drag queen story hours that have so many conservatives clutching their pearls today. Pee-Wee was paving the way for a future they feared, and they made it their mission to stop him. That might sound like a conspiracy theory, but no conspiracy is necessary when there’s a shared commitment to a common goal; given the well-documented history of police persecution toward openly queer expression, it doesn’t take much imagination to read between the lines to surmise a deeper intent behind his arrests, and all that would then be required from civilian homophobes would be to decry his immorality in the name of “saving the children”— a tactic so familiar as to be banal.
Of course, it’s easy to see patterns and speculate about what’s behind them; but even if Paul Reubens was an unfortunate victim of overzealous law enforcement who literally got caught with his pants down, the result was the same. He was made into a pariah because he carried a vision of a world where queerness could be family-friendly, too.
Seen that way, the eventual comeback of Paul Reubens seems less like a redemption than a triumph against small-minded bigotry. In the end, the good will he temporarily lost came back with a vengeance, because instead of giving up, he kept fighting. He survived the best efforts to erase him from cultural memory and was welcomed back to the spotlight with open arms.
Now, in the wake of his passing at 70 after a six-year bout with cancer that he kept secret, headlines of his obituary are describing him as “beloved.”
Reubens’s real contribution may well be summed up in the example he set for the rest of us. Though he never declared himself to be queer, he became a queer hero, simply by outlasting the hatred until it was forgotten and irrelevant. In a time when such hate has turned itself against so many, and with such terrifying virulence, that accomplishment stands as a much-needed reminder that though it may sometimes overwhelm us, it can never truly defeat us if we stay the course – and if Pee-Wee was able to do it, then maybe the rest of us can, too.
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Author of new book empowers Black ‘fat’ femme voices
After suicidal thoughts, attacks from far right, a roadmap to happiness
In 2017, Jon Paul was suicidal. In nearly every place Paul encountered, there were signs that consistently reminded the transgender community that their presence in America by the far right is unwelcomed.
Former President Donald Trump’s anti-trans rhetoric is “partly” responsible for Paul’s suicidal contemplation.
“I’m driving out of work, and I’m seeing all of these Trump flags that are telling me that I could potentially lose my life over just being me and wanting to be who I am,” Paul said. “So, were they explicitly the issue? No, but did they add to it? I highly would say yes.”
During Trump’s time as president, he often disapproved of those who identified as transgender in America; the former president imposed a ban on transgender individuals who wanted to join the U.S. military.
“If the world keeps telling me that I don’t have a reason for me to be here and the world is going to keep shaming me for being here. Then why live?” Paul added.
The rhetoric hasn’t slowed and has been a messaging tool Trump uses to galvanize his base by saying that Democrats like Vice President Kamala Harris “want to do transgender operations on illegal aliens that are in prison.” Trump made that claim at the presidential debate against Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris.
Not only do Trump’s actions hurt Paul, but they also affect 17-year-old Jacie Michelleé, a transgender person at Friendly Senior High School.
“When former President Donald J. Trump speaks on transgender [individuals] in a negative light, it saddens my heart and makes me wonder what he thinks his personal gain is from making these comments will be,” Michelleé said.
“When these comments are made toward trans immigrants or the transgender community, it baffles me because it shows me that the times are changing and not for the better,” Michelleé added.
The Congressional Black Caucus Foundation responded to Trump’s rhetoric that opposes the transgender community and how it affects democracy through programming at its Annual Legislative Conference in Washington.
“Our agendas are not set by what other groups are saying we should or shouldn’t do. It is set by our communities and what we know the needs and the most pressing needs are for the Black community, and we know that our global LGBTQAI+ communities have needs; they are a part of our community,” said Nicole Austin-Hillery, president and CEO of the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation.
One pressing need is suicide prevention, which the National Institute of Health deems necessary, as 82% of transgender individuals have reported having suicidal thoughts, while 40% have attempted suicide. This research applies to individuals like Paul, who reported contemplating suicide.
But instead of choosing to self-harm, Paul met Latrice Royale, a fourth-season contestant on “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” who was awarded the title of Miss Congeniality while on the show. Paul said that meeting brought meaning when there was barely any left.
“It was like I met them at a time where I really, truly, not only needed to see them, but I needed to be able to actively know ‘girl’ you can live and you can have a really a good life, right? And Latrice was that for me,” Paul said.
Though Trump is representative of a lot of movements that are clashing with society, the Democratic Party is actively pushing back against anti-transgender movements and says there is “still much work to be done.”
Not only did Royale model success for Paul, but they also share the same appearance. Paul proudly identifies as “fat” and uses this descriptor as a political vehicle to empower others in the book “Black Fat Femme, Revealing the Power of Visibly Queer Voices in the Media and Learning to Love Yourself.”
“My book, my work as a Black, fat femme, is inherently political. I say this at the very front of my book,” Paul said. “All three of those monikers are all three things in this world that the world hates and is working overtime to get rid of.”
“They’re trying to kill me as a Black person; they’re trying to get rid of me as a fat person. They are trying to get rid of me as a queer person,” Paul added.
Besides Paul’s political statements, the book’s mission is to give those without resources a blueprint to make it across the finish line.
“I want them to look at all the stories that I share in this and be able to say, ‘wow,’ not only do I see myself, but now I have a roadmap and how I can navigate all of these things that life throws at me that I never had, and I think that’s why I was so passionate about selling and writing the book,” Paul said.
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Jussie Smollett asserts innocence while promoting new film
‘I know what happened and soon you all will too’
Jussie Smollett, the actor and musician who was convicted of lying to the police about being the victim of a homophobic and racist hate crime that he staged in 2019, attended a screening of his latest film “The Lost Holliday” in a packed auditorium of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library on Aug. 28.
In an interview with the Washington Blade that took place before the screening, he continued to assert his innocence and responded to concerns within the LGBTQ community that his case has discouraged real victims from reporting hate crimes.
The former “Empire” star wrote, produced, and directed “The Lost Holliday,” his second feature film to direct following 2021’s “B-Boy Blues.” Produced through Smollett’s company, SuperMassive Movies, he stars in the film alongside Vivica A. Fox, who also served as a producer and attended the library screening with other cast members.
In the film, Smollett plays Jason Holliday, a man grappling with the sudden death of his husband Damien (Jabari Redd). Things are complicated when Damien’s estranged mother, Cassandra Marshall (Fox), arrives in Los Angeles from Detroit for the funeral, unaware of Damien’s marriage to Jason or of their adopted daughter. Initially, Jason and Cassandra clash — Cassandra’s subtle homophobia and Jason’s lingering resentment over her treatment of Damien fuel their tension –– but they begin to bond as they navigate their grief together.
Smollett, Fox, Redd, and Brittany S. Hall, who plays Jason’s sister Cheyenne, discussed the film in an interview with the Washington Blade. Highlighting the wide representation of queer identities in the film and among the cast, they stressed that the story is fundamentally about family and love.
“What we really want people to get from this movie is love,” Smollett said. “It’s beneficial for people to see other people that are not like themselves, living the life that they can identify with. Because somehow, what it does is that it opens up the world a little bit.”
Smollett drew from personal experiences with familial estrangement and grief during the making of the film, which delves into themes of parenthood, reconciliation, and the complexities of family relationships.
“I grew up with a father who was not necessarily the most accepting of gay people, and I grew up with a mother who was rather the opposite. I had a safe space in my home to go to, but I also had a not-so-safe space in my home, which was my father,” he said.
“The moment that he actually heard the words that his son was gay, as disconnected and estranged as we were, he instantly changed. He called me, after not speaking to him for years, and apologized for how difficult it must have been all of those years of me growing up. And then a couple years later, he passed away.”
Smollett began working on “The Lost Holliday” eight years ago, with Fox in mind for the role of Cassandra from the outset. He said that he had started collaborating on the project with one of the biggest producers in Hollywood when “‘2019’ happened.”
In January 2019, Smollett told Chicago police that he had been physically attacked in a homophobic and racist hate crime. He initially received an outpouring of support, in particular from the LGBTQ and Black communities. However, police soon charged him with filing a false police report, alleging that he had staged the attack.
After prosecutors controversially dismissed the initial charges in exchange for community service and the forfeiture of his $10,000 bond, Smollett was recharged with the same offenses in 2020. Meanwhile, his character in “Empire” was written out of the show.
In 2021, a Cook County jury found him guilty on five of the six charges of disorderly conduct for lying to police, and he was sentenced to 150 days in jail and 30 months of probation, along with a $120,000 restitution payment to the city of Chicago for the overtime costs incurred by police investigating his initial hate crime claim.
LGBTQ people are nine times more likely than non-LGBTQ people to be victims of violent hate crimes, according to a study by the Williams Institute at UCLA School of Law. Upon Smollett’s conviction, some in the LGBTQ community felt that the case would discredit victims of hate crimes and make it more difficult to report future such crimes.
Smollett seemed to acknowledge these concerns, but denied that he staged the attack.
“I know what happened and soon you all will too,” he told the Blade. “If someone reported a crime and it wasn’t the truth, that would actually make it more difficult [to report future crimes], but I didn’t. Any belief that they have about the person that I’ve been played out to be, sure, but that person is not me, never has been,” he said. “So I stand with my community. I love my community and I protect and defend my community until I’m bloody in my fist.”
“And for all the people who, in fact, have been assaulted or attacked and then have been lied upon and made it to seem like they made it up, I’m sorry that you have to constantly prove your trauma, and I wish that it wasn’t that way, and I completely identify with you,” he added.
An Illinois Appellate Court upheld his guilty verdict last year, but Smollett has since appealed to the Illinois Supreme Court, which in March agreed to hear the case. He has served six days in jail so far, as his sentence has been put on hold pending the results of his appeals.
The screening at the MLK Jr. Library concluded with a conversation between Smollett, Fox, and David J. Johns, CEO and executive director of the National Black Justice Coalition. Smollett discussed his current mindset and his plans for the future, revealing he is working on a third movie and will be releasing new music soon.
“I’m in a space where life is being kind,” he said.
“The Lost Holliday” recently secured a distribution deal for a limited release with AMC Theatres and will be out in theaters on Sept. 27.
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DIK Bar cements its status as LGBTQ institution, prepares to expand
Dupont Cantina coming soon to the former Malbec space
Two immigrant brothers who could not return home, Michael and Tony Askarinam, turned instead to making a community space of their own. Nearly 40 years after debuting their casual, gay-friendly restaurant, the (straight) owners of Dupont Italian Kitchen are expanding, reinforcing their status as a center of gay life on 17th Street. By early fall, they plan to debut a casual Mexican restaurant, complete with a spacious patio, tons of tacos, and big margarita energy that will please outdoor diners and karaoke singers upstairs alike.
DIK Bar, as it is affectionately known, still serves fan-favorite lasagna and eggplant parmesan, though no longer for a cool $4.25 from its opening menu. Michael, who moved to the U.S. from Iran to study in 1974, graduated in 1980 – less than a year after the Iranian revolution. Part of a Jewish family, he felt unsafe going back to his homeland with the new regime, and has never returned. Instead, he and his brother, who also fled, opened a restaurant that still sits on the same corner as the day it opened. Though he is not Italian, Michael had plenty of relevant experience: He had worked in Italian restaurants during summers while studying, and another brother owned the now-closed restaurant Spaghetti Garden (where Pitchers stands today). The menu, he admits, pulled heavily from his family influence.
Opening on 17th Street in the mid-‘80s, the brothers knew the community vibe. Annie’s, just a block away, was already well known as an LGBTQ-friendly institution. At the time, he says, the street was a bit grittier — not the well-manicured lane it is today. Still, they decided to open a restaurant and Italian Kitchen was born. His brother at Spaghetti Garden suggested adding “Dupont” in front to help ground the location, and DIK came into being. “At the beginning I admit I was a little uncomfortable with the name, having young kids. But it grew on me,” he says. Leaning in, he’s embraced the name.
A few years later, the restaurant expanded vertically: taking over the apartments upstairs to turn it into a bar; a new chef came in who introduced DIK Bar’s popular brunch. But he and his brother never really relinquished the cozy space that he had envisioned. Each pushing 80 years old, they come in nearly daily: cooking, bartending, even washing dishes.
DIK has evolved, but only slightly. Eggplant and chicken parm, lasagna, pizza, pasta, and a $1 garden salad: the opening menu from the ‘80s reads like a genuine old-school Italian joint. Today, you will still find classic gems, though now they are nestled alongside Brussels sprouts and arugula salads.
As longtime patrons know, the restaurant is more than the sum of its pasta parts. “It’s an atmosphere where everybody is welcome. I got that from my mother,” he added, noting that she had experienced discrimination as part of the Jewish minority in Iran. Given this background, it was logical for them to build a space where “you have a place to be who you are and feel comfortable.”
In 2020, as the restaurant’s lease was expiring, he had the opportunity to buy the building, which included adjacent Argentine restaurant Malbec. “The landlord let us know that they felt we deserve to own the building after being here for so long,” says Michael.
It was a blessing; to him, it meant the sustainability of Dupont Italian Kitchen. Earlier this year, when Malbec’s lease expired, they decided against finding another tenant and instead they would make it their own. The two eateries already shared one storage basement, where the Malbec kitchen was located. Saving costs by sharing procurement, staff, and utilities (as well as liquor), they took the leap. “Plus, we can be our own great tenant,” he said with a smile.
The refurbishment thus far has included a new HVAC system and a new bar. The new restaurant allows them access to a more spacious kitchen that can cook up sizzling Mexican favorites with speed and in volume. Customers at upstairs DIK Bar have always requested more bar-style finger food, he says, and tacos are better suited to a drinking atmosphere than fettuccine alfredo or creamy Cajun sausage pasta. Mexican food is also well suited to the patio. He also has a family tie to Mexico: relatives own Johnny Pistolas in Adams Morgan. The rest of the menu is being developed, including shareable small plates and “Mexican pizza.” Drinks will feature tequila, mezcal, and margaritas; and there is a happy hour in the works. “I’m hoping this expansion can help cement our future,” he says.
The opening timeline is early fall.
Looking back on almost 40 years and looking forward with the expansion, he mused that the restaurant still maintains its authenticity and its central role in LGBTQ life in D.C. “I’m really proud of the fact that it caters to this community. We are an institution, we want to continue to be part of this place.”
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