Pee-wee Herman Actor and Creator Paul Reubens Dies from Cancer at 70 

Flowers lie on top of the Hollywood Walk of Fame star of Pee-wee Herman, a character played by US actor Paul Reubens, in Los Angeles, California, USA, 31 July 2023. (AP)
Flowers lie on top of the Hollywood Walk of Fame star of Pee-wee Herman, a character played by US actor Paul Reubens, in Los Angeles, California, USA, 31 July 2023. (AP)
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Pee-wee Herman Actor and Creator Paul Reubens Dies from Cancer at 70 

Flowers lie on top of the Hollywood Walk of Fame star of Pee-wee Herman, a character played by US actor Paul Reubens, in Los Angeles, California, USA, 31 July 2023. (AP)
Flowers lie on top of the Hollywood Walk of Fame star of Pee-wee Herman, a character played by US actor Paul Reubens, in Los Angeles, California, USA, 31 July 2023. (AP)

Paul Reubens, the actor and comedian whose Pee-wee Herman character — an overgrown child with a tight gray suit and an unforgettable laugh — became a 1980s pop cultural phenomenon, has died at 70.

Reubens, who’s character delighted fans in the film "Pee-wee’s Big Adventure" and on the TV series "Pee-wee’s Playhouse," died Sunday night after a six-year struggle with cancer that he kept private, his publicist said in a statement.

"Please accept my apology for not going public with what I’ve been facing the last six years," Reubens said in a statement released Monday with the announcement of his death. "I have always felt a huge amount of love and respect from my friends, fans and supporters. I have loved you all so much and enjoyed making art for you."

Created for the stage, Pee-wee with his white chunky loafers and red bow tie would become a cultural constant in both adult and children's entertainment for much of the 1980s, though an indecent exposure arrest in 1991 would send the character into entertainment exile for years.

The staccato giggle that punctuated every sentence, catch phrases like "I know you are but what am I" and a tabletop dance to the Champs' song "Tequila" in a biker bar in "Pee-wee's Big Adventure" were often imitated by fans, to the joy of some and the annoyance of others.

Reubens created Pee-wee when he was part of the Los Angeles improv group The Groundlings in the late 1970s. The live "Pee-wee Herman Show" debuted at a Los Angeles theater in 1981 and was a success with both kids during matinees and adults at a midnight show.

The show closely resembled the format the Saturday morning TV "Pee-wee's Playhouse" would follow years later, with Herman living in a wild and wacky home with a series of stock-character visitors, including one, Captain Karl, played by the late "Saturday Night Live" star Phil Hartman.

HBO would air the show as a special.

Reubens took Pee-wee to the big screen with 1985’s "Pee-wee’s Big Adventure," which takes the character outside for a nationwide escapade. The film, in which Pee-wee’s cherished bike is stolen, was said to be loosely based on Vittorio De Sica’s Italian neo-realist classic, "The Bicycle Thief." Directed by Tim Burton and co-written by Hartman, the movie was a success, grossing $40 million, and continued to spawn a cult following for its oddball whimsy.

A sequel followed three years later in the less well-received "Big Top Pee-wee," in which Pee-wee seeks to join a circus. Reubens’ character wouldn’t get another movie starring role until 2016’s Pee-wee’s Big Holiday," for Netflix. Judd Apatow produced Pee-wee’s big-screen revival.

His television series, "Pee-wee’s Playhouse," ran for five seasons, earned 22 Emmys and attracted not only children but adults to Saturday-morning TV.

Jimmy Kimmel posted on Instagram that "Paul Reubens was like no one else — a brilliant and original comedian who made kids and their parents laugh at the same time. He never forgot a birthday and shared his genuine delight for silliness with everyone he met."

Both silly and subversive and championing nonconformity, the Pee-wee universe was a trippy place, populated by things like a talking armchair and a friendly pterodactyl.

Director Guillermo del Toro tweeted Monday that Reubens was "one of the patron saints of all misfitted, weird, maladjusted, wonderful, miraculous oddities."

The act was a hit because it worked on multiple levels, even though Reubens insists that wasn’t the plan.

"It’s for kids," Reubens told The Associated Press in 2010. "People have tried to get me for years to go, ‘It wasn’t really for kids, right?’ Even the original show was for kids. I always censored myself to have it be kid-friendly.

"The whole thing has been just a gut feeling from the beginning," Reubens told the AP. "That’s all it ever is and I think always ever be. Much as people want me to dissect it and explain it, I can’t. One, I don’t know, and two, I don’t want to know, and three, I feel like I’ll hex myself if I know."

Reubens' career was derailed when he was arrested for indecent exposure in an adult movie theater in Sarasota, Florida, the city where he grew up. He was handed a small fine, but the damage was incalculable.

He became the frequent butt of late-night talk show jokes and the perception of Reubens immediately changed.

"The moment that I realized my name was going to be said in the same sentence as children and sex, that’s really intense," Reubens told NBC in 2004. "That’s something I knew from that very moment, whatever happens past that point, something’s out there in the air that is really bad."

Reubens said he got plenty of offers to work, but told the AP that most of them wanted to take "advantage of the luridness of my situation", and he didn't want to do them.

"It just changed," he said. "Everything changed."

He did take advantage of one chance to poke fun at his tarnished image. Just weeks after his arrest, he would open the MTV Video Music Awards, walking on to the stage alone and saying, "Heard any good jokes lately?" (Herman appearances on MTV had fueled Pee-wee’s popularity in the early 1980s.)

In 2001, Reubens was arrested and charged with misdemeanor possession of child pornography after police seized images from his computer and photography collection, but the allegation was reduced to an obscenity charge and he was given three years probation.

Born Paul Rubenfeld in Peekskill, New York, in 1952, the eldest of three kids, he grew up in Sarasota where his parents ran a lamp store and he put on comedy shows for neighbor kids.

After high school he sought to study acting. He spent a year at Boston University, and was then turned down by the Juilliard School and Carnegie-Mellon University. So he enrolled at the California Institute of the Arts. That would lead to appearances at local comedy clubs and theaters and joining the Groundlings.

"Paul’s contributions to comedy and entertainment have left a lasting impact on the world, and he will be greatly missed by all in the Groundlings community," the group said in a statement.

After the 1991 arrest, he would spend the decade playing primarily non-Pee-wee characters, including roles in Burton’s 1992 movie "Batman Returns," the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" film and a guest-star run on the TV series "Murphy Brown."

He also appeared in the 1999 comedy film "Mystery Men" and Johnny Depp's 2001 drug-dealer drama "Blow."

Reubens — who never lost his boyish appearance even in his 60s, would slowly re-introduce Pee-wee, eventually doing a Broadway adaptation of "The Pee-wee Herman Show" in 2010, and the 2016 Netflix movie.

Reubens was beloved by his fellow comedians, and fans of Pee-wee spanned the culture.

"His surreal comedy and unrelenting kindness were a gift to us all," Conan O'Brien tweeted. "Damn, this hurts."



Perry Bamonte, Keyboardist and Guitarist for The Cure, Dies at 65

Perry Bamonte of The Cure performs at North Island Credit Union Amphitheater on May 20, 2023 in Chula Vista, California. (Getty Images/AFP)
Perry Bamonte of The Cure performs at North Island Credit Union Amphitheater on May 20, 2023 in Chula Vista, California. (Getty Images/AFP)
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Perry Bamonte, Keyboardist and Guitarist for The Cure, Dies at 65

Perry Bamonte of The Cure performs at North Island Credit Union Amphitheater on May 20, 2023 in Chula Vista, California. (Getty Images/AFP)
Perry Bamonte of The Cure performs at North Island Credit Union Amphitheater on May 20, 2023 in Chula Vista, California. (Getty Images/AFP)

Perry Bamonte, keyboardist and guitarist in The Cure, has died at 65, the English indie rock band confirmed through their official website on Friday.

In a statement, the band wrote that Bamonte died "after a short illness at home" on Christmas Day.

"It is with enormous sadness that ‌we confirm ‌the death of our ‌great ⁠friend and ‌bandmate Perry Bamonte who passed away after a short illness at home over Christmas," the statement said, adding he was a "vital part of The Cure story."

The statement said Bamonte was ⁠a full-time member of The Cure since 1990, ‌playing guitar, six-string bass, ‍and keyboards, and ‍performed in more than 400 shows.

Bamonte, ‍born in London, England, in 1960, joined the band's road crew in 1984, working alongside his younger brother Daryl, who worked as tour manager for The Cure.

Bamonte first worked as ⁠an assistant to co-founder and lead vocalist, Robert Smith, before becoming a full member after keyboardist Roger O'Donnell left the band in 1990.

Bamonte's first album with The Cure was "Wish" in 1992. He continued to work with them on the next three albums.

He also had various acting ‌roles in movies: "Judge Dredd,About Time" and "The Crow."


First Bond Game in a Decade Hit by Two-month Delay

'007 First Light' depicts a younger Bond earning his license to kill. Ina FASSBENDER / AFP
'007 First Light' depicts a younger Bond earning his license to kill. Ina FASSBENDER / AFP
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First Bond Game in a Decade Hit by Two-month Delay

'007 First Light' depicts a younger Bond earning his license to kill. Ina FASSBENDER / AFP
'007 First Light' depicts a younger Bond earning his license to kill. Ina FASSBENDER / AFP

A Danish video game studio said it was delaying the release of the first James Bond video game in over a decade by two months to "refine the experience".

Fans will now have to wait until May 27 to play "007 First Light" featuring Ian Fleming's world-famous spy, after IO Interactive said on Tuesday it was postponing the launch to add some final touches.

"007 First Light is our most ambitious project to date, and the team has been fully focused on delivering an unforgettable James Bond experience," the Danish studio wrote on X.

Describing the game as "fully playable", IO Interactive said the two additional months would allow their team "to further polish and refine the experience", giving players "the strongest possible version at launch".

The game, which depicts a younger Bond earning his license to kill, is set to feature "globe-trotting, spycraft, gadgets, car chases, and more", IO Interactive added.

It has been more than a decade since a video game inspired by Bond was released. The initial release date was scheduled for March 27.


Movie Review: An Electric Timothee Chalamet Is the Consummate Striver in Propulsive ‘Marty Supreme’

 Timothee Chalamet attends the premiere of "Marty Supreme" at Regal Times Square on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2025, in New York. (AP)
Timothee Chalamet attends the premiere of "Marty Supreme" at Regal Times Square on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2025, in New York. (AP)
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Movie Review: An Electric Timothee Chalamet Is the Consummate Striver in Propulsive ‘Marty Supreme’

 Timothee Chalamet attends the premiere of "Marty Supreme" at Regal Times Square on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2025, in New York. (AP)
Timothee Chalamet attends the premiere of "Marty Supreme" at Regal Times Square on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2025, in New York. (AP)

“Everybody wants to rule the world,” goes the Tears for Fears song we hear at a key point in “Marty Supreme,” Josh Safdie’s nerve-busting adrenaline jolt of a movie starring a never-better Timothee Chalamet.

But here’s the thing: everybody may want to rule the world, but not everybody truly believes they CAN. This, one could argue, is what separates the true strivers from the rest of us.

And Marty — played by Chalamet in a delicious synergy of actor, role and whatever fairy dust makes a performance feel both preordained and magically fresh — is a striver. With every fiber of his restless, wiry body. They should add him to the dictionary definition.

Needless to say, Marty is a New Yorker.

Also needless to say, Chalamet is a New Yorker.

And so is Safdie, a writer-director Chalamet has called “the street poet of New York.” So, where else could this story be set?

It’s 1952, on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Marty Mauser is a salesman in his uncle’s shoe store, escaping to the storeroom for a hot tryst with his (married) girlfriend. This witty opening sequence won’t be the only thing recalling “Uncut Gems,” co-directed by Safdie with his brother Benny before the two split for solo projects. That film, which feels much like the precursor to “Marty Supreme,” began as a trip through the shiny innards of a rare opal, only to wind up inside Adam Sandler’s colon, mid-colonoscopy.

Sandler’s Howard Ratner was a New York striver, too, but sadder, and more troubled. Marty is young, determined, brash — with an eye always to the future. He’s a great salesman: “I could sell shoes to an amputee,” he boasts, crassly. But what he’s plotting to unveil to the world has nothing to do with shoes. It’s about table tennis.

How likely is it that this Jewish kid from the Lower East Side can become the very face of a sport in America, soon to be “staring at you from the cover of a Wheaties box?”

To Marty, perfectly likely. Still, he knows nobody in the US cares about table tennis. He’s so determined to prove everyone wrong, starting at the British Open in London, that when there’s a snag obtaining cash for his trip, he brandishes a gun at a colleague to get it.

Shaking off that sorta-armed robbery thing, Marty arrives in London, where he fast-talks his way into a suite at the Ritz. Here, he spies fellow guest Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow, in a wise, stylish return to the screen), a former movie star married to an insufferable tycoon (“Shark Tank” personality Kevin O’Leary, one of many nonactors here.)

Kay’s skeptical, but Marty finds a way to woo her. Really, all he has to say is: “Come watch me.” Once she sees him play, she’s sneaking into his room in a lace corselet.

This would be a good time to stop and consider Chalamet’s subtly transformed appearance. He is stick-thin — duh, he never stops moving. His mustache is skimpy. His skin is acne-scarred — just enough to erase any movie-star sheen. Most strikingly, his eyes, behind the round spectacles, are beady — and smaller. Definitely not those movie-star eyes.

But then, nearly all the faces in “Marty Supreme” are extraordinary. In a movie with more than 100 characters, we have known actors (Fran Drescher, Abel Ferrara); nonacting personalities (O’Leary, and an excellent Tyler Okonma (Tyler, The Creator) as Marty’s friend Wally); and exciting newcomers like Odessa A’Zion as Marty’s feisty girlfriend Rachel.

There are also a slew of nonactors in small parts, plus cameos from the likes of David Mamet and even high wire artist Philippe Petit. The dizzying array makes one curious how it all came together — is casting director Jennifer Venditti taking interns? Production notes tell us that for one hustling scene at a bowling alley, young men were recruited from a sports trading-card convention.

Elsewhere on the creative team, composer Daniel Lopatin succeeds in channeling both Marty’s beating heart and the ricochet of pingpong balls in his propulsive score. The script by Safdie and cowriter Ronald Bronstein, loosely based on real-life table tennis hustler Marty Reisman, beats with its own, never-stopping pulse. The same breakneck aesthetic applies to camera work by Darius Khondji.

Back now to London, where Marty makes the finals against Japanese player Koto Endo (Koto Kawaguchi, like his character a deaf table tennis champion). “I’ll be dropping a third atom bomb on them,” he brags — not his only questionable World War II quip. But Endo, with his unorthodox paddle and grip, prevails.

After a stint as a side act with the Harlem Globetrotters, including pingpong games with a seal — you’ll have to take our word for this, folks, we’re running low on space — Marty returns home, determined to make the imminent world championships in Tokyo.

But he's in trouble — remember he took cash at gunpoint? Worse, he has no money.

So Marty’s on the run. And he’ll do anything, however messy or dangerous, to get to Japan. Even if he has to totally debase himself (mark our words), or endanger friends — or abandon loyal and brave Rachel.

Is there something else for Marty, besides his obsessive goal? If so, he doesn’t know it yet. But the lyrics of another song used in the film are instructive here: “Everybody’s got to learn sometime.”

So can a single-minded striver ultimately learn something new about his own life?

We'll have to see. As Marty might say: “Come watch me.”