The A.V. Club's Big Adventure: On the hunt for Pee-wee Herman's bike
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The elusive artifact is a classic cinematic device—why, one could make a list of at least 16 such objects, and that list would be a shameful, inexcusable failure if it didn't include the Schwinn cruiser at the center of Pee-wee's Big Adventure (playing tonight as a bike-in special of the Alamo Drafthouse Rolling Roadshow). To the unending frustration of E.G. Daily, the bike is Pee-wee's one true love, which is why, after it's stolen, he's willing to contend with a jealous boyfriend, an escaped convict, and the mocking laughter of Jan Hooks. Without it, he's an incomplete man child.
In an obscene display of life imitating art, getting any precise details about the bikes used in the film is as hard as locating the Alamo's basement. The ever-informative (and ever-dubious) Internet Movie Database claims that 10 to 12 custom Schwinn DXs were built for the film by the Pedal Pusher Bicycle Shop of Newport Beach, Calif., but Newport Beach City Hall doesn't have a business license on file for a Pedal Pusher, open or closed, and the number listed for the shop on several websites now belongs to one angry dude. (The A.V. Club: Hello, is this the Pedal Pusher Bicycle Shop? Angry Dude: No! *click*) It's even difficult to pin down what model of cruiser Pee-wee rides: Some fans back IMDB, while some say it's another Schwinn model—the Panther.
I know you are, but what am I?
"The basic bike is a Schwinn Panther, which was a model that was put out in the '50s," said Art Branksy, a Pennsylvanian bike collector, retiree, and part-time Santa Claus. Bransky knows this because he picked up a meticulous recreation of the Big Adventure bike—along with a rare promotional cutout of the film's star—for an undisclosed amount in the 1980s. Bransky had big plans for his big purchase, but they were scuttled when Pee-wee's real-life alter ego, Paul Reubens, was arrested for allegedly masturbating in a Florida porno theater.
"I had intentions of setting it up at a kiosk in malls, and letting kids come in and get their picture taken with Pee-wee and the bike," Bransky said. "But then he did his deed, and that was the end of that."
Bransky did display the bike at two auto shows following Reubens' arrest, but it drew too much negative attention to merit continued touring: "I couldn't help it. People make jokes about that kind of stuff, so I said, 'You know what? You ain't going to see this one again."
At the time, Reubens made similar statements regarding the Pee-wee persona, which he was planning to retire before that ill-fated trip to the South Trail XXX Cinema. Some 18 years later, both have reversed their decisions: Reubens is often quoted as working on the script for a big-screen version of Pee-wee's Playhouse, while Bransky has loaned the bike, the cutout, and an original Big Adventure movie poster to the America On Wheels Museum in Allentown, Pa. Linda Merkel, the museum's executive director, said there was some initial concern about putting the bike on display, but visitor reactions to the bike have proven those concerns unfounded. "Mostly, it just makes people laugh," she said.
I don't train monkeys, I just make 'em!
Bransky may be reluctant to say how much he paid for his modified Panther, but Tom Randel has no problem sharing how much he earned thanks to his version of the Pee-wee bike: $1,400, plus an all-expenses-paid trip to New York City. In October of 2006, Randel's Pee-wee Herman avec bicycle ensemble was the hit of the Kansas City Halloween contest circuit.
"I was shocked," he said. "The bars would allow me to take the bike in—they wouldn't allow me to ride around, but I'd do that a little bit. They'd say 'Don't do that again,' but it was a necessity for advertising my costume."
In all, Randel placed first in three contests and took home second place in another. Not bad for something he constructed from thrift shop finds.
"I found an older bike, then started piecing it together, piece by piece," he said. "I pulled a bunch of screen shots from the movie and tried to duplicate it as best I could."
Randel, a graphic designer by trade, was able to fabricate every piece of the bike but the tiger siren that rests on its handlebars. Since tiger sirens tend to be scarce, expensive (one went for $255 on eBay last November), and imported from Italy, Randel opted to stick a stuffed tiger's head on the front instead.
Tell me where it is before I lose patience with you, Francis!
If someone arrives at the Alamo's Pee-wee's Big Adventure screening in a flash of red-and-white Hermanian glory, odds are he or she personally built the bike. Bransky said one of the bikes used in the film (to his knowledge, only two bikes appear onscreen: one whole, one chopped-up) was sold in a Hollywood memorabilia auction, fetching upwards of $12,000. In February 2007, a DX that appeared to be the genuine article surfaced on eBay—it went for $17,877.
And while details of the origin, components, and ultimate whereabouts of the bike remain muddy, it will continue to hold a certain type of fascination for anyone—be they "The Perfect Santa," or just someone that treats Halloween as serious business—caught up in the youthful spirit its original rider still embodies years after getting into very adult trouble.
"You want the bike because of all the gizmos and gadgets," Randel said. "When you're a kid and you see something that crazy, it just looks fun."
