Young Frankenstein: An Old New Classic
Young Frankenstein, (1974) directed by Mel Brooks, written by Gene Wilder and Mel Brooks, and starring Gene Wilder (but you probably already knew that, didn’t you?) was never one of my childhood movies. Not that I didn’t watch it a lot. But I always took it for granted. It was only later, when I rewatched it – stoned, admittedly – that I was finally bowled over. For Brooks, this movie is an exercise in restraint. Not dissimilar to Jackie Brown for old Tarantino. The most obvious example of these directors holding themselves back is not self-indulgently casting themselves, respectively, in supporting roles. I don’t like Mel Brooks movies in general. I mean take Space Balls. For every joke, there is a follow-up joke that reminds the viewer about the joke they just did or did not laugh at. Only mildly insulting, really, it’s just annoying. I found Blazing Saddles to be the same. The only movie that comes close to Young Frankenstein for me is, of course, The Producers. The latter film comes closest, also, to Brooks finding his own genre. Everything else, I think, is Brooks injecting his shit into a proven form. (I haven’t seen a lot of his movies though, including the Leslie Nielsen: Dracula: Dead And Loving It, so I’ll just get back to what I have seen.) It is the tempo of Young Frankenstein and the seeming effortless of it that makes it the work of a master. And I’m pretty sure I mean Wilder. After all, he is the star and the co-writer. He brought the script to Brooks. It seems it is better when the director doesn’t want to or at least is reluctant to do a project. Examples: Coppola didn’t want to do The Godfather; Scorsese didn’t want to do Raging Bull (and wanted to do Gangs of New York, and, for that matter, New York, New York); the short novel, A Clockwork Orange, practically landed on Kubrick’s desk, which he made faster than almost any of his other movies (and I thank the stars every time I think of the possibility of Jack Nicholson playing Napoleon, the movie Kubrick was dying to make but never found the funding). There are many more. But let’s get back to the movie I’m supposed to be reviewing, shall we? I guess it’s the unexpected subtlety and nuance that makes Young Frankenstein one of the greatest. Wilder is one of the best at playing a man that’s doing a terrible job of keeping his madness on the inside, his melancholy eyes, the timbre of his voice, his lips. When he becomes unhinged, we are prepared for it. Madeline Kahn, who was too much in Blazing Saddles, is just right. Young Frankenstein feels like a kind of fragile thing, where, if only just this once, they know exactly how to make a movie. The-size-of-the-monster’s-penis jokes are well spaced from each other. Teri Garr is a babe. Peter Boyle’s performance as The Monster is wonderfully generous, meaning he’s great to watch under the spotlight but he also allows his fellow actors to have their moments to shine. Would I feel this strongly about YF if I didn’t find Brooks’ other movies to be terrible? I don’t know. And finally, Marty Feldman’s performance as Igor, the comedic relief in a comedy, is fantastic. He highlights the movie like Busey does in Point Break, I’d say. Moreover, Feldman’s got the hidden, perverse side of the character down. It’s something that’s lacking in modern comedies: that extra joke you hadn’t thought of yourself, like John Lennon’s dancing onstage during the curtain call in Hard Day’s Night. Geoffrey Holder once said to direct a play, “You’ve got to have one trick more than a monkey.” And I think the same goes for making a comedy. Young Frankenstein is one step ahead of the audience, just one. That’s a hell of a lot further than taking one step back just to be sure you got the last joke.
