A Fond Farewell to an Always Beloved Icon, Dolly Parton

 

The sad news of Dolly Parton’s death at 80 on August 25^th hit much harder than usual when hearing of a celebrity passing. Growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, I became a fan of Parton from early childhood, from the early solo country hits she wrote and sang (after her first success dueting with Porter Wagoner starting in the late 1960s) such as her first #1, “Joshua,” the poignant “Coat of Many Colors,” and two enduring smashes legend has Parton penned on the same day, “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You,” written with Wagoner in mind after Parton inevitably moved on to wider acclaim and success as a solo artist. Another #1, “Love is Like a Butterfly,” served as the theme song to Parton’s television variety show, wherein her warmth and sincerity indicated a screen presence of singular appeal might be utilized in film. Late 1977 into 1978 witnessed wide musical crossover success from country to pop with the infectious “Here You Come Again,” which landed at #1 for five weeks on the Country charts before hitting #3 on the pop charts, followed by “Two Doors Down,” which also gained solid county and pop airplay.

                With Parton continuing to build her legacy in music late in the 1970s (“Heartbreaker,” “You’re the Only One”), a major leap to superstardom awaited with the new decade. Jane Fonda had caught Parton on television and felt that, although untried as an actor, Parton would be a perfect fit for a project Fonda was working on involving three female office workers embroiled in a battle of wills with their unscrupulous boss. Released just before Christmas in 1980, the comic-ladened 9 to 5 became not only the rare smash of the period to top $100 million in box office figures, but also propelled Parton to major screen stardom and one of her biggest solo hits, with her infectious title song making it to #1 on the country and pop charts, and gaining Parton an Oscar nomination for Best Song. Parton also was granted critical praise for her triumph on screen her first time out, wherein she easily kept pace with costars Fonda, an inspired Lily Tomlin, and Dabey Coleman as Frank Hart, aka the Boss from Hell. As Doralee, Hart’s sweet, humorous and upbeat secretary, Parton won over vast audiences with a naturalness, sincerity and intuitive comic spark onscreen that couldn’t be beat. Among the impressed viewers was this author, who was ecstatic to see Parton was as gifted onscreen as on her recordings.

                9 to 5 propelled Parton to a place among the cinematic elite, including gaining the position as the top female box office draw for 1981 (according to the esteemed Quigley Publishing poll), a feat she was able to match the following year with another huge hit, teaming with the #1 male draw, Burt Reynolds, for the film adaptation of the musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Although the movie’s uneven in tone, Parton’s melodious voice, honesty and likability shine throughout, and do much to keep the film afloat. She has an infectious, robust joy for performing and magnetic presence that completely draws a viewer in, hitting exactly the right comic or dramatic notes as Miss Mona, the no-nonsense businesswoman who runs the title establishment. Although there’s a wealth of lighter fare on display, including a sexy, playful duet with a game Reynolds as the Sheriff, Parton illustrates how impactful she could be dramatically with her heartfelt rendering of “I Will Always Love You,” which was wisely added to the film and became a #1 Country hit again for Parton, a decade before Whitney Houston would send through the stratosphere on the pop charts. Set towards the end of the film wherein Miss Mona attempts to bid adieu to her sheriff/lover, the song opens with the camera on Parton’s back, before Miss Mona turns and sings “If I should stay. . .” The simple purity, fragility and depth of emotion Parton’s displays during the number is profound, and demonstrates how Parton had an intuitive knack for fine screen acting, whatever genre she was playing, leading to high praise from such critical notables as Robert Ebert and the difficult-to-please Pauline Kael.

 

 A big follow-up undertaking, 1984’s Rhinestone, stopped her momentum onscreen, but she ended the decade on a high note as part of the star-powered female lineup in the film version of the deft comedy/tearjerker Steel Magnolias, wherein as down-to-earth beautician Truvy Jones Parton again displays fine comic chops and a perchance for incredibly moving dramatic moments, such as Truvy’s gentle remark to her husband, “It makes you pretty” concerning a beauty product he’s asked about, while the characters are simultaneously re-bonding, and her reaction at a climatic post-funeral scene with her costars, wherein Parton’s completely true and instinctive performance style is overwhelmingly touching (rather than acting to a fare thee well as her costars do with great zeal and conviction, the focused Parton appears to be spontaneously taking in the moment as if it’s really happening, serving as a surrogate to audience members who are also emotionally gutted by the events unfolding onscreen).

                Parton continued to thrive during the later decades of her career, launching another entertainment cash cow with her Dollywood theme park. while continuing to reap accomplishments in musical, television and film, among them amassing a total of eleven career Grammys (including a Lifetime Achievement Grammy), another Best Song Oscar nomination for “Travelin’ Thru” and later a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Academy, a 2006 Kennedy Center honor, as well as involvement in many philanthropic endeavors including literacy programs for children, and a recent venture creating a Broadway musical based on her life and career. Through every enterprise and appearance, Parton’s talent, wisdom, humor and kindness burned bright, making her deservedly one of the most cherished entertainers ever, to the extent that her passing felt like the loss of a best friend to many. RIP to a true legend of various mediums; we will always love you, Dolly.

Paul Reubens as Pee-wee Herman Joins Filmdom's Elite with His Big Adventure

 

            Among Hollywood’s most imaginative and briskly entertaining comedies, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure granted Paul Reubens (as Pee-wee) and director Tim Burton the chance to join creative forces to concoct one of 1985’s most surprisingly original and beguiling screen entertainments, as Reubens translates his famous manchild persona from television’s The Pee-wee Herman Show to the movies with aplomb and gleeful enthusiasm. Working with a fun-filled, clever screenplay by Reubens and cowriters Phil Hartman and Michael Varhol, the scenario offers a fascinating riff on the Road Movie genre, with Pee-wee encountering a wealth of colorful characters and situations as he sets out on a quest to recapture his prized possession, the uniquely designed bike of his dreams, literally in some cases. Meetings with a convict, bike gang, “Large Marge” and a diabolically perky Alamo tour guide are some aspects that allow the film to speed by in a fast-paced 91 minutes, with Burton fully seizing his feature film directorial debut to showcase the offbeat style that would thereafter mark him as one of the Cinema’s most daringly innovative and prodigious talents.

The alternatively touching and unsettling short Frankenweenie, Burton’s primary film credit prior to Adventure, gave Reubens a chance to see the unique vision Burton possessed in forming a singular world onscreen, helping convince the star and producers that the young maverick was the ideal candidate to helm the zany, live-action cartoon universe found in Pee-wee’s venue. From the opening sequences showing Pee-wee in a dream winning the Tour de France, then rising to create one of the most elaborately devised breakfasts ever seen, it’s clear Burton is relishing his chance to let his imagination run loose depicting the expansive environment Pee-wee toils in. Burton’s perchance for   envisioning weird set designs and dark situations is evident throughout the movie, both in Pee-Wee’s “real” existence (Pee-wee standing in front of a bike shop with wheels spinning ominously behind him, a menacing mechanical clown outside a mall taunting Pee-wee) and in nightmare sequences wherein Pee-Wee imagines what could have become of his bike.

Frequent Burton collaborator Danny Elfman adds immensely to setting the proper otherworldly, eerily comic and cartoony vibe with a florid, playfully upbeat score that brings a carnival-like atmosphere to the often-outlandish events, while cinematographer Victor J. Klemper perfectly captures both the lighter, looser aspects of the vignettes, while also (sometimes simultaneously) granting a more sinister tone to the proceedings, such as Pee-wee’s amusing but somewhat unsettling visit to a magic shop, his meeting with an on-the-run convict, or his supernatural, memorable encounter with Large Marge. Following the success of Adventure, Burton would soon rise to the top of the Hollywood heap with hits such as Beetlejuice, Batman and Edward Scissorhands, while the distinct charms of his first major success would continue to hold a special place in Burton’s filmography for an ever-growing wealth of Adventure fans.

                By the time of filming, Reubens had finely crafted his vivid portrayal of Pee-wee on television, enabling him to put over his jubilant, wry, gleefully perverse bow-tied icon with confidence, skill and unmitigated comic brio. Whether Pee-wee is displaying unmitigated passion towards his prized bike, engaging in a childish “I know you are, but what am I?” battle with chief nemesis Francis or, in one of the film’s most indelible passages, calming a riotous gang of bikers with his nerdy but ultra-cool interpretive dance to “Tequila,” Reubens fully invests the role with a high-spirited, sometimes manic energy that draws the viewer to his plight, even when Pee-wee is not displaying the most noble or compassionate behavior, such as his dismissive attitude towards his adoring girl Friday, Dottie or when throwing out snide retorts, often just because he feels like it, so there. As Pee-wee traverses around seeking his lost cycle, Reubens and Burton have fun addressing a variety of stereotypes and putting a spin on these parts, such as Mickey, the convict who picks up Pee-wee, then appears to form a homoerotic bond with him, especially once Pee-wee goes drag to attempt to bypass authorities, or Simone, the melancholic waitress who shares a few choice double entendres with Pee-wee as they watch the sunrise inside a dinosaur. 

                The dynamic Reubens appears fully at home and confident putting over Pee-wee in his big screen venture as he combines frantic, unnerving gusto with sly wit and artful vocal work. For example, his obsession with finding “the best bike ever” is rendered wholly believable in a sequence wherein Pee-wee addresses a group of friends in a hours-long basement presentation, wherein he desperately details a throve of insignificant facts and becomes increasingly and hilariously agitated and forceful, shouting out his findings in a frenzied manner as he risks alienating everyone he knows. Conversely, Reubens often employs a calmer, sublime tongue-in-cheek style for maximum comic effect, such as in his stoic, deer-in-the-headlights appearance as a hotel clerk in the screen adaptation of his adventure, or when throwing out dryly sarcastic quips as he spars with Dottie, Francis, or anyone else who he finds bothersome.

                The adept supporting cast put over the various florid types with distinction and flair. Elizabeth Dailey, with her girlish voice and quirky but sincere delivery, proves an ideal mate for Pee-wee in their oddball pairing, while Judd Omen has a fine comic intensity as the brooding Mickey. Diane Salinger, with her haunting voice and fragile, desperate demeanor, makes Simone a compelling figure who adds a nice humane touch to the story, and Mark Holton is appropriately over-the-top as Francis, throwing himself into Francis’ contentious run-ins with Pee-wee with a campy verve that is well-match to Reubens’ equally aggressive but lighthearted emoting. In a brief passage with Reubens, Alice Nunn scores mightily as the foreboding Large Marge, leaving a lasting mark on viewers with only a couple minutes of screentime. James Brolin and Morgan Fairchild help cap off the movie with style and humor as the dashing and sexy screen incarnations of Pee-wee and Dottie, while Milton Berle, Tony Bill, Phil Hartman and Dee Snider with Twister Sister and Burton himself (as a thug) also pop up in fun cameos, as well as Cassandra Peterson as an alluring biker chick putting the moves on Pee-wee, while elsewhere she was gaining greater fame as the daffy but enticing Elviria. Finally, the great Jan Hooks gets perhaps the best screen chance to exhibit her brilliant comic timing as Tina, the slick, ebullient Alamo tour guide who drives Pee-wee to distraction with her inane, over-rehearsed yet cheerful musings of Alamo folklore, in the process ensuring herself a small but memorable place in the annals of prime comedic moments from 1980’s movies.

Released in July, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure became a surprise critical and financial success, as the uniquely offbeat comedy proved to be a perfect carefree vehicle for a summer night at the movies. Reviewers largely gave Reubens and Burton full credit for smartly expanding the Pee-wee Herman role into more adult territory without losing his appeal for the younger set, which he would establish further via Pee-wee’s Playhouse, while audiences turned out in substantial numbers, allowing the low-budget ($3,000,000) production to gain (according to Box Office Mojo) over $40,000,000 in ticket sales. Although mostly overlooked come award season, unsurprising for a high comedy with plenty of slapstick elements, Adventure has built a strong cult reputation over the years as a key film in Burton’s canon and of its era, as well as Paul Reubens crowning achievement on film. A 1988 sequel without Burton, Big Top Pee-wee, failed to merit the same reaction as Adventure, but in 2016 a Netflix release, Pee-wee’s Big Holiday, fared much better with critics and eager fans as a welcome return to form for both Reubens and his now-legendary creation. Both those uninitiated with Reubens’ flamboyant, eccentric, avant-garde take on the role or others fully attuned with Pee-wee’s vibe will be amply rewarded by taking an unforgettably fantastical trek with the lively extrovert as he embarks on a cinematic Big Adventure like no other.