20th Century Fox released Young Frankenstein on 15 December 1974.
It is the only Mel Brooks film that works completely. His script for The Producers was fantastic. But his direction of it (despite many people trying to help him) was pathetic. It’s still funny. But it’s also hard to watch.
Blazing Saddles has its moments. I’m very fond of the parts that involve Cleavon Little. But so much of it is just embarrassing. And the ending is terrible. Then there were Silent Film and High Anxiety, the first signs that Brooks had given up trying to do anything good. Everything after that is unwatchable. (I will give him credit for at least trying in Life Stinks.)
But let’s talk about Young Frankenstein. The direction is fine. There are annoying parts — like the quick zooms. But Brooks had clearly learned a lot since the disaster that was The Producers. Better was the production. But it is the script and the cast that really make it work.
The idea was Gene Wilder’s. Toward the end of his life, he was going everywhere telling a story about the writing of it:
I would write all day. And he would come over after dinner. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We need a villain. The Bürgermeister isn’t a good enough villain. We need a real villain.” And one night he comes over and looks at the pages and says, “You tap dance to Irving Berlin? In top hat and tails with the monster? Are you crazy? It’s frivolous.” And I started to argue and I argued for about 20 minutes til I was at least red in the face. I think it may have been blue. And all of a sudden, he says “Okay, it’s in!” And I said, “Why did you put me through this?” And he said, “Because I wasn’t sure if it was right or not. And if you didn’t argue for it, I knew it was wrong.”
When I first heard this, I thought Wilder was suffering from Stockholm syndrome. But over time, I realized what he was doing. He was laying claim to the best thing in the film. He knew if he left it, Brooks would eventually take credit for it. So he pretends that Brooks had some brilliant way of sniffing out comedy. Fine. Throw the man a bone. At least Wilder gets credit.
But note that Brooks was not doing that! Brooks was jealous. And he would rather harm the film than admit that. But given the level of Wilder’s pushback, Brooks relented.
Listen to Mel Brooks himself talk about the writing. Basically: nothing. Note that he talks about the “nights” of writing. But it’s clear from what Wilder said that Brooks wasn’t there during the days when the writing was actually done. In other words, Brooks was overseeing the writing. Most directors would not take screenplay credit. But Brooks did because he’s a narcissist. (Note that Brooks and Wilder never worked together again — remarkable after doing such a hugely successful film.)
Brooks did much the same thing to Andrew Bergman on Blazing Saddles. Check out this hilariously small text for story credit:
There are clearly things in the film that Brooks wrote. “Walk this way…” is a joke that has never aged in almost a century of him repeating it. “Call it a hunch!” is another Brooks winner that would have killed in the Catskills! I’m sure Brooks took the final script and punched it up with a lot of old jokes. But it still works.
I dread next June when Brooks will turn 100 and I will have to see the world gush about how great he is and how hilarious Spaceballs and Robin Hood: Men in Tights are. I’m not saying he’s terrible. But he’s the Alfred Hitchcock of comedy. He’s done some good work. But he ain’t the genius people assume he is.
But let’s watch his one unquestionably great film, Young Frankenstein.
Young Frankenstein (1974) poster via Wikipedia under Fair Use.
