Young Frankenstein (1974, Gruskoff/Venture Films Crossbow Productions, Inc./20th Century Fox, Mel Brooks)
Mel Brooks is the "Weird Al" Yankovic of film. (Or maybe it's more proper to say "Weird Al" is the Mel Brooks of music.) In much the same way that it might be difficult to nail down which "Weird Al" song is the best, so too can Brooks' fans agonize over which is their fav movie, but I'd wager Young Frankenstein usually tops any respectable list. Allow me to attempt to highlight the reasons why that is for me.
The opening act is admittedly slow and apes the long, often quiet establishing shots that the early B&W monster films made as their hallmark. As with most "Weird Al" spoofs, Brooks and Wilder had a similar approach of lampooning the source material without disrespecting it. The same is true here as the scenes start from a more traditional classic horror approach, with orchestral stinger reveals, etc., and gradually lean into zanier and kookier portrayals. It's high praise and high comedy.
Gotta love the university talk and lab demonstration that ends with Wilder's character ("Dr. Frederick Fronkenstein," who goes by a different pronunciation and it is established cares not for his grandfather's work, which he calls, "doo doo") stabbing himself in the thigh with a scalpel in an outburst while dueling words with one of his students on the subject of his forebear. He blithely ignores the wound, crosses his legs, and says, stifling his alarm and pain, "Class—uh … is dismissed." It's both urbane and sophomoric at once, and sets the same dichotomous tone throughout.
Marty Feldman's Igor is definitely in the top 10 movie sidekicks of all time. His "walk this way" introduction is simple, inoffensive comedy at its best (and sparked the famous Aerosmith song). His is the only character who routinely "winks" at the audience in fourth-wall breaking moments. He gives banter as good as he gets. And it's his character that nabs the "Abby Someone", next "Abby Normal" (his words, a dodge for abnormal) brain to further the plot and give us a retread of the original Frankenstein story.
Hardly outdone by him though is Teri Garr's Inga. Her "roll in ze hay" intro is eternally quotable. She wears her German affectation with such cuteness and in an unpretentious way that neatly fits in with the odd-ball performances. Almost every scene that she's in with the doctor has some double-entendre to it that goes completely over the heads of little ones but always leaves adults tittering, and steals each moment when it occurs.
Dr. Fronkenstein's tantrum after failing to get a reaction from the Monster after electrocuting him is pure comedic gold. He sighs peacefully and talks of accepting failure with quiet dignity and grace. A moment later, he turns back to pound the corpse's chest with his fists: "Son of a bitch! Bastard! I'll get you for this! What did you do to me? What did you do to me?!" Inga tries to intercede, but he continues, "I don't want to live. I do not want to live!" he moans like a child. "Quiet dignity and grace," Igor repeats, deadpanning to the camera with an eye-roll. The doctor moans as the scene fades to black, "Oh … mama…"
One of the richest scenes in the film is when the three of them "play" a game of charades as Dr. Fronkenstein is being strangled by the Monster they've freshly reanimated. "SEDAGIVE?!" lol.
The cast is rounded out by supporting roles of Madeline Kahn's Elizabeth, Cloris Leachman's Frau Blücher, Kenneth Mars's Inspector Kemp, and Peter Boyle's the Monster. Even if the movie had only two others of these plus the main three, you'd still have a classic on your hands. No one tries to upstage anyone else, and everyone still has moments to shine and add to the whole. It's an ensemble outdone by maybe only a few films ever (12 Angry Men among them, which I'll definitely cover later).
It isn't until the latter half of the movie that Boyle's Monster logs some serious screen time. The scene with the little girl is charming and a bit whimsical. The part where she goes soaring through the air off a powerful see-saw motion and lands peacefully tucked in bed is absolute cartoonish hokum, but it works. That's followed by the Monster's scene with Gene Hackman's blind priest Harold, the three failed attempts at hospitality, and the infamous ad-lib at the end: "I was going to make espresso."
Another top-shelf funny scene ensues after the three mains recapture the Monster and lock him up, only for Dr. Fronkenstein to resolve to lock himself inside in a vain attempt to force a bond with his creation, bidding both Igor and Inga not to open the door should anything happen. Needless to say, he almost immediately regrets it and turns tail pleading, "Let me out. Let me out of here. Get me the hell out of here. What's the matter with you people? I was joking! Don't you know a joke when you hear one? HA-HA-HA-HA. Jesus Christ, get me out of here! Open this goddamn door or I'll kick your rotten heads in! Mommy!"
What follows is a trademark turn of character, and indeed in many of Wilder's performances, from apparent coward to reluctant hero. The sheer volume and intensity Wilder rises to when he delivers the penultimate, "MY NAME IS FRANKENSTEIN!" line is startlingly dramatic and played less for a laugh. The movie has a story and the characters still have arcs and it delivers on both fronts without skimping on the laughs and while still remaining faithful to the original material. Rare. And hard to do.
The "Puttin' on the Ritz" number is another pure charmer.
The scene when Elizabeth, Frederick's fiancee, arrives and briefly interacts with Igor and Inga is full of great little interactions. It's fun to watch the others' faces when the speaker is delivering their lines. Acting is truly as much reacting as it is anything else.
The scene where Elizabeth and Frederick are in her bedchamber is delightful. She neatly exerts her dominance in their relationship all while tempting him, but gives him none of what he wants, and as he leaves—on his knees—all he can do is mumble through tight lips the words she bids him good night with.
Not long after, she and the Monster consummate their wicked little union after he abducts her. She's all for it, however, and when they consider going for round 7 in their off-screen sexcapades, she admonishes him with, "Seven or eight quick ones and then you're off to the boys to boast and brag! You better keep your mouth shut! [swooning] Oh, I think I'm in love!" Such a woman.
The movie nears its end when Dr. Frankenstein elects to have a mutual operation done on him and the Monster to share portions of their brains with each other so that the Monster can be more balanced. The operation is successful as an angry mob breaks in, but we the viewers are left to consider whether a comatose Frederick will be left that way or not. The Monster, too, having recovered his faculties, delivers an impassioned plea to spare them both as the town mob led by Inspector Kemp—and his ever hilarious mechanical arm—agree to cease their lynching siege and leave the two in peace.
In a pair of codas, we learn that the Monster and Elizabeth got married and have recently gotten back from a party thrown by her dad in his honor. Her entrance to the room, complete with "bride of Frankenstein" hairdo, is sizzlingly funny.
In the other, we find that Frederick seems fine and is now married to Inga. She starts to hum the haunting violin music that Frau Blücher had used earlier in the film to put the Monster in a trance. To this, Frederick seems himself a bit bewitched. It's only when they're finally in bed that she adds in regard to what he gave to the Monster, "But whatever did you get from him?", to which his monstrous libido is unleashed on her and she sings a refrain from, "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life," echoing what Elizabeth had done earlier when the Monster took her as his own.
So, you know, basically sex carries the day. And laughter. Sex is pretty funny, after all. Sex and laughter: the medicine of life.
