Mystery Men
Actors Paul Reubens and Ben Stiller,
with Janeane Garofalo, Geoffrey Rush and William H. Macy
Mystery Men may be the latest in a long line of movies adapted from comics, but it has a distinctive twist. This particular crime–fighting posse is made up of super–hero wannabes, average folks with a specific skill that ranges from ordinary (fork–throwing, bowling, shoveling) to impressive (invisibility, disarming telekinesis) to bizarre (focused fury, flatulence). But any way you look at it, the Mystery Men are second rate, which doesn't mean they're not determined. In director Kinka Usher's broad action/comedy, they bravely take on Champion City's biggest villain, the nefarious Casanova Frankenstein, after Captain Amazing, defender of their metropolis, is incapacitated.
As a film, Mystery Men (1999) seeks to be nothing more than fun, summer entertainment. But what makes it more than disposable fluff is the stellar cast, who mesh together amazingly well despite coming from very different backgrounds: dramatic stage and film actors (Geoffrey Rush, William H. Macy, Lena Olin, Wes Studi); stand–up comedians (Janeane Garofalo, Eddie Izzard); television performers (Greg Kinnear, Kel Mitchell); and even musicians (Tom Waits, Praz).
Their on–screen camaraderie is carried over to interviews. Two of the most outrageous Mystery Men, Ben Stiller (Mr. Furious) and Paul Reubens (The Spleen), met the press together in New York. Despite the fact that they had played loser characters with questionable abilities, the conversation kept winding back to the topics of success and its surreal byproduct, fame.
The 33-year–old son of comedy duo Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, Ben Stiller had already made a name for himself as a writer/director/actor on television (Saturday Night Live) and in films (Reality Bites, Flirting With Disaster) before 1998, when he appeared in Zero Effect, Your Friends and Neighbors, and Permanent Midnight. But little did he realize that his fourth film that year, a massively successful comedy, would catapult him into the unwelcome limelight.
"Ben is super–famous after There's Something About Mary," says Stiller's frequent collaborator, Janeane Garofalo, "you can't walk down the street with that guy, people are in his face 24–7–365. Of course he hates it because Ben's very shy. He's not a people person at all. He's very nice and everything, but he's not a guy who wants to go to a party or a bar. That's just his personality."
"It's a weird thing, just a strange way to live your life," says Stiller, adopting a more weary attitude towards the press than in the days before Mary.
"There are different types of fame," he continues, "and it's one thing to be identifiable, but it's another thing to be known for your work. I think they're very different. To be yelled at on the street 'Hey, Ben!' solely because they know who you are, and to have somebody say, 'Hey, I saw the thing you did and it made me laugh,' that you did something that affected them, are totally different experiences."
Stiller's career choices in the past year have reflected his desire for variety. He hasn't directed a movie since The Cable Guy (1996), focusing instead on finding unusual acting roles and completing the self–help parody, Feel This Book, which he co-authored with Janeane Garofalo. After finishing his tenure as the leader of the rag–tag Mystery Men (his tightly wound character is irrational anger personified), Stiller is currently playing a rabbi in Keeping the Faith, a romantic comedy co-starring Jenna Elfman and Edward Norton (who's also directing). He will then build a film around his character Derek Zoolander, world–famous male super model. Garofalo, for one, thinks Stiller fits the bill: "I think he's a Jewish Tom Cruise."
But what Stiller is most proud of the fact that the Museum of Radio and Television is hosting a retrospective of his short–lived sketch comedy program, The Ben Stiller Show. Thirteen episodes were made in 1992 for Fox.
"I felt vindicated nine months after the show was canceled when we got a writing Emmy," he says, "because networks never ever acknowledge good stuff. If it can make them money or they can exploit it, they'll acknowledge it."
The reserved, quiet man sitting next to Stiller gives a thoughtful nod in agreement. There's nothing spastic about the 46–year–old Paul Reubens. But even though he's tanned and dressed in a nicely–fitting suit, it's still easy to identify Reubens as his immensely popular alter–ego, Pee–Wee Herman.
While Stiller is reeling from his new attention, Reubens is quietly coming back into the spotlight, which singed him badly in 1991 after he was arrested for masturbating in an adult theater. This highly–publicized scandal effectively ended his career as Pee–Wee Herman. The child/man character appealed to both kids and adults in movies like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (1985) and the influential and beloved children's program, Pee-Wee's Playhouse (1986-90). Even though he created the television show, wrote and directed most of the episodes, Paul Reubens often felt in the shadow Pee–Wee, so much so that he often did press interviews in character.
"I oftentimes thought I should just change my name," says Reubens, "Pee–Wee Herman in...whatever. And it wouldn't be Pee–Wee Herman anymore, but that would be my name because most people think that's [who I am]. I thought, seriously, that it would just be smarter to drop the Paul Reubens thing and be Pee-Wee Herman."
"No, I don't miss him," he continues, "and if I ever miss [Pee–Wee], I just turn on the old VCR."
But the inherent playfulness of his famous character was apparent to Reubens's co–stars on Mystery Men, especially Oscar–winner Geoffrey Rush who receives a memorable full–force dose of The Spleen's special power: incapacitating farts.
"I think something in the ever present and wry glint that Paul has in his eye," says Rush, "has a little touch of Pee–Wee, because it is very much his clown persona. There's something sweet and subversively innocent in that presence."
"He's an imp, that's what he is," adds William H. Macy about Reubens, "constantly planning, there's always something going on. He's like an aquarium."
Born Paul Rubenfeld in Peekskill, New York, Reubens moved to Sarasota, Florida with his family when he was in fourth grade. Two years later, he won the role of the preternaturally mature boy in a local theater production of A Thousand Clowns, and his career aspirations were set.
"I was a little oddball kid," he says, "I was really serious and funny both. I always wanted to perform, I always wanted to be an actor. I never really thought about doing comedy until later."
Reubens created Pee–Wee Herman in 1978 when he was a member of the influential Los Angeles comedy troupe, The Groundlings. A popular stage show and HBO special led to movies, television and the eventual straightjacket of fame.
"I always thought it would be interesting," Reubens explains, "to have a little seminar in Hollywood when you're starting to get famous to just explain some of the things you might want to know. It would be great to have a little manual with some helpful tips. There are some people that love being famous, who really enjoy it, and I'm not complaining whatsoever. I'm just not in that school."
Paul Reubens is currently working on a film called Meet the Muckles, a comedy in the vein of You Can't Take It With You, and has just signed with Disney to make The Pee–Wee Herman Story, which he wryly describes as "a fake autobiography."
When the conversation weaves back to his television show, Paul Reubens uses the opportunity to engage Ben Stiller in a little friendly ribbing.
"Personally, I have three Emmys," he says, "and the show won 23. How many did yours win again?"
"One," replies Stiller, "but we only aired twelve episodes."
"We only did 40," says Ruebens with a sly grin. "Do the math."
© 1999, Serena Donadoni. All rights reserved.