Young Frankenstein (1974)

This was an obvious choice for this year's theme but, at the same time, I also thought, "What am I going to say that hasn't already been said?" Just about everyone has seen or, at least, knows of Young Frankenstein, with a good number of its scenes, lines, gags, and even its cast of characters and actors having become totally iconic (because of that, I'm not going to give a plot synopsis or as detailed of a significant scene breakdown as I usually do, as there's really no point). It's been celebrated as both one of the greatest horror spoofs and flat-out comedies ever, featured on numerous "best of" lists, is part of the National Film Registry, and is considered by many, including the man himself, to be the best movie Mel Brooks ever directed. So, what can I possibly bring to this review? Well, upon re-watching the movie a couple of times before doing this, I think I can bring the perspective of someone who admires it rather than flat-out loves it. Yes, as sacrilegious as this is going to be, while I like Young Frankenstein, I don't hold it in very high esteem the way a lot of other people do. I won't ever deny it's a very well-made movie, looking beautiful in its black-and-white cinematography and amazing sets, nor will I argue how utterly perfect the actors are and how legendary their performances have become. There are also, naturally, lines, jokes, and scenes that do get me to laugh (the scene with Gene Hackman as the blind hermit kills me) and, above everything else, I really appreciate how loving and reverential a tribute this is to the classic Universal Frankenstein movies, with references meant for both mainstream audiences and diehard fans. So, then, why don't I absolutely love it? There are several reasons but the main one is that, as far as my first viewing was concerned, this was a movie that really suffered from being as famous as it is. I didn't see it all the way through until 2014, when I bought the 40th Anniversary Blu-Ray at a Best Buy, and by that point, I'd seen and heard just about every memorable moment and line from it. I did see a fair-sized chunk of it on TV one October when I was in my early teens (I think it was on AMC) but, beyond that, I'd seen clips on those video store machines where you could watch a film's trailer after scanning it, on specials like AFI's 100 Years, 100 Laughs and Bravo's 100 Funniest Movies, in advertisements on videotapes I had as a kid, and, of course, it was referenced a lot in the culture at large. I've said it before but, when a film you've never seen over-saturates pop culture in such a manner, it can seriously hurt its effectiveness when you finally do see it and that kind of happened here.

Another reason, and get ready to get your tar and pitchforks out again, is that I've never been that interested in Mel Brooks' movies. In fact, the only other movie of his I've seen at this point is his other horror-comedy, Dracula: Dead and Loving It, which I can definitely say Young Frankenstein stomps into dust without even trying. I have nothing against the guy, as he seems like he's pretty funny in and of himself, but his movies have never grabbed my attention, including his really famous ones like The Producers, Blazing Saddles, and Spaceballs. I think if I saw those, I might enjoy them more, as they haven't been completely spoiled for me, but if Young Frankenstein is any indication, it also seem like his type of humor doesn't quite gel with me. The slapstick and moments of physical comedy do, at least, make me smirk, but much of the other types of humor, like that of the sheer quirkiness of the characters, the sexual humor, and the really over-the-top moments, which there are plenty of, don't do it for me, for whatever reason. Maybe it's a generational thing. And finally, I feel the movie overstays its welcome a bit. After the Puttin' on the Ritz scene, it really starts to drag for me, and I find myself wishing it would just end already. Again, there is a lot to enjoy and admire here, but I have to be honest in my assessment.

According to Mel Brooks, it was Gene Wilder who came up with the concept of the movie while they were shooting Blazing Saddles, suggesting that the story focus on the grandson of Dr. Victor Frankenstein being ashamed of his family's history and only reluctantly being drawn into the fold. From there, the two of them developed the screenplay into what would be Brooks' fourth film as director, and was apparently such an enjoyable experience for everyone involved that Brooks began adding scenes near the end of shooting just to keep it going as long as possible. Again, Brooks considers this to be his best movie, although he thinks Blazing Saddles and The Producers are both funnier. But, unlike a lot of his movies, he doesn't appear onscreen, which was something Wilder requested, as he felt he had a tendency to break the fourth wall, even if it was unintentional, and he didn't want that (although, apparently, it was okay for Marty Feldman to do it a couple of times). However, Brooks did manage to get, at the very least, his hands and his voice into the movie, as he does the disembodied voice of Victor Frankenstein in one scene, some off-camera animal sounds, and doubled for Gene Hackman in some shots in the blind man sequence.

When I think of Gene Wilder, I think of a guy who had the unique ability to come off as very educated, erudite, even professorial, with a calm and innocent demeanor, but with a boiling craziness underneath just waiting to explode. You can see this in Dr. Frederick Frankenstein's introductory scene, where he tries to keep his composure when one of his students calls him "Frankenstein" instead of "Fronkensteen" and then brings up the experiments of his infamous grandfather, saying, "Yes, yes, yes! We all know what he did, but I'd rather be remembered for my own, small contributions to science, and not because of my accidental relationship to a famous... kook." As much as he's trying, you can tell he's just barely managing to keep himself from losing it, which he does a few minutes later when the same student, again, brings up his grandfather's experiments and he yells, "I am a scientist, not a philosopher! You have more chance of reanimating this scalpel than you have of mending a broken nervous system!... My grandfather's work was doodoo! I am not interested in death! The only thing that concerns me is the preservation of life!", before accidentally stabbing himself in the thigh with that scalpel. And then, right after he's dismissed his class, he's directly faced with his heritage when he's given his great-grandfather's will and thus, travels to the old family castle in Transylvania (though not before initially finding himself on the wrong train, which was bound for New York!). While he initially still insists his name is Fronkensteen, and has a nightmare about not being able to escape his destiny, when the sound of strange violin music lures him down to his grandfather's laboratory and his private library, he decides to resume his experiments and create his own creature after reading his notes, believing they've proved his own dismissal of reanimation to be totally wrong. As crazed as he got with the student at the beginning, Frederick really starts to go over the top now, often screaming at the top of his lungs, like when he declares, "IT... COULD... WORK!", and when he rises up with the platform containing the creature's gurney, screaming, "LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?! GIVE MY CREATION... LIFE!" Seriously, this has to be the most manic and insane Wilder ever was. It's like if you took his craziness during the tunnel scene and his outburst at the end of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, cranked them up to twenty, and had him do them numerous times throughout the movie.

Initially distraught over seeming to fail to bring his creature to life, Frederick is then overjoyed when he does awaken, only to nearly get killed when he's frightened when Igor lights a match. Frederick is even less pleased when Igor admits he gave him an abnormal brain to put into the monster's skull, angrily choking him for it. When the monster is set free by Frau Blucher and runs off into the night, Frederick, horrified by what he's done, later lures him back with the violin music Blucher played in order to calm

him and, with Igor and Inga's help, sedates and returns him to the castle. Deciding that love and acceptance is the only thing that can curb the monster's violent ways, Frederick locks himself into the room where the monster is being kept in order to convince him of his affection. He tells the others not to let him out, no matter what he says, but, of course, when the monster awakens and threatens him, Frederick panics and yells to be let out. When that doesn't work, he instead flatters the

monster, calling him handsome, strong, god-like, and, above all else, good. This wins the monster over and Frederick embraces him, telling him he's going to teach him how to be civilized, declaring, "Together, you and I are going to make the greatest single contribution to science since the creation of fire!" And, to top it all off, when Inga asks Dr. Fronkenstein if he's alright, he answers, "MY NAME IS FRANKENSTEIN!" Indeed, Frederick's attempts to civilize and curb the monster's savage nature seem to work, as he presents him to a

theater full of fellow scientists, who see him obeying simple commands as well as performing Puttin' on the Ritz in a dance number with his creator. But, when the monster is startled by an exploding stage-light and the audience starts to boo and throw things at him, he becomes frightened and angry. Frederick, concerned more about being humiliated in front of the scientific community, orders the monster to stop, but he ends up getting taken away by the local police and chained in the jail. Now truly feeling pity for his creation, Frederick decides he must find a way to correct the imbalance of his cerebral spinal fluid, but tortures himself trying to think of a way to do so. Inga then offers to help relieve his inner turmoil, leading to them having sex on the gurney in the lab... right before Frederick learns that his fiance, Elizabeth, arrives.

While, unbeknownst to him, Elizabeth is captured and completely seduced by the monster and his enormous "schwanzstucker," Frederick lures the monster to him once more with the violin music, planning to transfer some of his own cerebral spinal fluid into him. Though the villagers burst into the castle during this very delicate procedure, which must be completed down to the very second, it ultimately works, as the monster becomes able to think and speak like a normal person, and is very grateful to Frederick for what he's done. Frederick himself also comes out okay and, after marrying Inga, shows her what he himself received from the procedure, getting her to sing in the same way the monster did when he made love to Elizabeth.

I think what's most surprising about Young Frankenstein is how, while just about everyone else is over-the-top, farcical, or quirky in their performances, Peter Boyle plays the monster in a rather straightforward manner, very akin to Boris Karloff's groundbreaking portrayal in the original Frankenstein. While the movie definitely has fun with him in the parodies of the little Maria scene in the original and the blind hermit scene from Bride of Frankenstein, the Puttin' on the Ritz sequence, and his abduction and seduction of Elizabeth, the core of the character is still the same: although violent and unpredictable due to the abnormal brain in his skull, the monster is actually a confused and frightened creature with a gentle soul. When he first awakens after the seemingly unsuccessful attempt at bringing him to life, he comes off as very childlike in how he obeys Frederick's commands to sit up on the gurney, stand on his feet, and walk, with Frederick having to assist him in some of the tasks. All goes well until Igor tries to light a cigarette and the monster is frightened at the sight of the flame, causing him to act out and attack Frederick, forcing Igor and Inga to sedate him. Later, Frau Blucher sets the monster free when he reawakens and shows how she's able to keep him docile by playing a violin piece that Victor Frankenstein used to placate his own creation. But, this doesn't last long, as an explosion of sparks from the laboratory equipment frightens the monster again and he rushes out of the castle and into the surrounding countryside. Unlike the Karloff monster in the original movie, though, this monster harms no one while roaming about, be it intentionally or accidentally. He does accidentally send little Helga flying through the air and into her bedroom when the top of them try to play on a seesaw together, but she's unharmed. In fact, the monster is the one who suffers when he makes the mistake of wandering into the cabin belonging to Harold, the blind hermit, and gets hot soup poured on his lap and his thumb set aflame. He's then lured into the village by the sound of the music and is captured by Frederick, Igor, and Inga. When he awakens back in the castle and sees Frederick in the room with him, he, again, becomes enraged and threatens to attack. However, he's taken aback when Frederick flatters him, calling him handsome and akin to a god, and then breaks down crying when he tells him he's not evil. Sure enough, as Frederick predicted, the monster craves only acceptance and compassion, and he appears to receive that when Frederick embraces him and promises to civilize him.

Frederick has made some progress with the monster when he presents him to fellow scientists in a theater, with the two of them engaging in Puttin' on the Ritz and the monster howling out his verses. Unfortunately, an exploding stage-light, the audience booing and throwing things at him, and Frederick growing impatient and caring more about how this will make him look causes the monster to lash out once again. He's then carried away by a mob and chained up in the village jail, where one

cop torments him with a small match. Unfortunately for the cop, the monster chokes him out and then rips off his chains. After escaping, he heads back to the castle, abducts the newly arrived Elizabeth, takes her into the woods, and shows her quite the good time, enough to have her singing Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life (he also apparently got over his fear of fire at some point, as they're both shown partaking in post-sex cigarettes). Following six love-making sessions, they're about to go for a

seventh, when the monster is, again, drawn away by the sound of the violin piece coming from the castle. He climbs up to the roof, refusing Inga and Igor's help in order to do it himself, and succeeds, although he almost falls over afterward. Frederick then enacts the transference of his cerebral spinal fluid in order to stabilize the monster, which he succeeds in doing. When the mob, led by Inspector Kemp, breaks into the castle and attempts to carry Frederick away, the now fully articulate monster demands they put him down. Making his point

clear, he then has a heartfelt soliloquy about what Frederick did for him: "For as long as I can remember, people have hated me. They looked at my face and my body and they ran away in horror. In my loneliness, I decided that, if I could not inspire love, which is my deepest hope, I would instead cause fear. I live because this poor, half-crazed genius has given me life. He alone held an image of me as something beautiful. Then, when it would have been easy enough to stay out of danger, he used his own body as a guinea pig to give me a calmer brain and a somewhat more sophisticated way of expressing myself." This is enough to stop the mob and Kemp, who now offer to be the monster's friends. With that, while Frederick marries Inga, the monster, now a very cultured and learned being, ends up with Elizabeth.

Since this was a 20th Century Fox film rather than a Universal one, I'm sure that makeup artist William Tuttle, a veteran who'd been working on movies since the 30's, and his crew had to be careful not to step on any copyright laws while still getting the feel of the classic Frankenstein monster, not unlike what Stan Winston and company would later have to do on The Monster Squad. And like on that movie, I think they did a pretty good job, as there's enough here to remind you of the iconic Karloff monster, especially in the face and head, with the

large brow, stitches around the temples, a scar on the neck that's reminiscent of the classic bolts, and the dead paleness of his skin (like in the original Frankenstein, they used green greasepaint to make it come off that way on black-and-white film), but they also gave it enough of its own flavor, particularly in how they made use of Peter Boyle's bald head. The same goes for his costume, which is like if you took the wool vest the monster wore in Son of Frankenstein, made it into a coat, and put it over the black outfit from the first two movies, along with the expected gigantic boots (in fact, it actually makes me think of the outfit Jason Voorhees would wear in Freddy vs. Jason).

On the opposite side of the spectrum from the monster is the character whose only purpose seems to be as weird and quirky as possible: Marty Feldman's Igor. This guy just likes to screw with people, as in his first appearance when he meets Frederick at the train station and, when he says his last name is "Fronkensteen," Igor, in turn, insists his name is pronounced "Eyegor." From there, he continually messes with him, like when, on their way to the castle, Inga says the howling they hear is that of a werewolf and Frederick responds with, "Werewolf?", prompting Igor to say, "There wolf. There castle," or when he suddenly pops up when Frederick and Inga are searching for the source of the violin music, at first pretending to be a severed head and singing, "I ain't got no body, and nobody cares for me. Yakka tak ta a yakka tak ta ha!" Speaking of which, Igor has a habit of suddenly showing up unexpectedly, like when they're preparing to bring the monster to life, Frederick yells up to him on the roof, gets no response, only for him to pop up next to him, asking, "I understand. I understand. Why are you shouting?" He also doesn't seem to be aware of his hunchback, although it's likely another put-on, given when he makes the remark, "Call it... a hunch," and then goes, "Ba-dum chi." Let's also not forget how said hump sometimes changes sides, much to Frederick's confusion. And he proves to be quite a horny little bugger, as he instantly becomes infatuated with Elizabeth when she arrives at the castle and says to Frederick, in a Groucho Marx impression, when he asks him to help him with her bags, "Soitenly. You take the blonde, I'll take the one in the toiben." He also offers Frederick his "services" if he has any trouble with both Inga and Elizabeth. But, for all his weirdness and trolling, Igor does prove to be quite a loyal assistant, helping Frederick in his experiments with no complaints at all. Although, that said, like Fritz in the original Frankenstein, it's his fault that the monster ends up with an abnormal brain after he accidentally destroys the one he was meant to steal. He does read the card noting that the brain is abnormal but, because of his crappy eyes, thinks it's "Abby Normal," a screw-up that Frederick attempts to strangle him over. Regardless, he goes on supporting his master, right down to helping him with the procedure at the end to stabilize the monster's brain, even though both he and Inga are concerned for Frederick's safety.

Inga (Teri Garr), the lovely and voluptuous young woman meant to be Frederick's lab assistant, is obviously taken with him from the moment she meets him, inviting him to roll in the hay with her in the back of Igor's horse-drawn wagon. She later helps Frederick investigate where the violin music they hear in the night is coming from, leading into the famous little routine with the sliding bookcase triggered by a candle, as well as his discovering his grandfather's old laboratory. Of course, when they talk about making the creature of an immense size, Inga is the one who hits on the notion that, "He would have an enormous schwanzstucker." Like Igor, she helps him in everything without question, including bringing the monster to life, capturing him after he escapes, and also tries to intervene when, despite what Frederick said earlier, he panics and freaks out when he locks himself in a room with the monster. She does manage to get Frederick in the sack in order to relieve his emotional anguish over the monster being chained in jail, only to then learn of his fiance, Elizabeth, who arrives immediately afterward, much to her dismay. Despite this disappointment, Inga goes on to help Frederick attract the monster back to the castle when he escapes from the jail and, like Igor, shows great concern about his plan to use his own spinal fluid to stabilize the monster's brain. In the end, it works out, with Frederick marrying Inga, while Elizabeth ends up with the monster. Like Elizabeth, Inga learns of the major benefits of having a lover who's not completely human.

I really don't get why they bothered with the running joke with Frau Blucher (Cloris Leachman), that mentioning her very name freaks out the horses, because I don't find her menacing at all. Rather, I find her to be just kind of strange and, at the most, mysterious, as she very obviously knows more than she tells Frederick when he first arrives. But, other than that, regardless of this being a comedy besides, I can't take the joke seriously, especially with that exaggerated German accent of hers. In fact, whenever I think of her, I think of that gag between her and Frederick where he wants to go to bed but she keeps offering him various nightcaps, much to his growing irritation. Frau Blucher, however, does prove to be a significant character, despite her small amount of screentime, as she not only releases the monster after he's proven to be unpredictable, but is also revealed to be the one who was playing the violin music heard before. She uses that particular melody to calm the monster, admitting to Frederick that she used it to lure him down to Victor Frankenstein's old laboratory and deliberately left his notebook out for him to find so he would create the monster and fulfill Victor's dream. Her motivation for this is a simple one: she and Victor were lovers and she's still infatuated with him, despite his having been dead for years. After that, Frau Blucher becomes little more than another assistant for Frederick, but she's the one who's most dedicated to his work involving the monster, refusing to let Inga and Igor open the door when Frederick locks himself inside the room with him, as per his instructions. She has another funny scene when she interrupts Frederick and Inga when they're "working" to inform him that Elizabeth has just arrived, adding, "I suggest ya put on a tie!" And at the end of the movie, when the monster has become a more civilized and articulate creature and has made peace with the villagers, Frau Blucher is seen crying happily that Victor's dream has finally become a reality.

While I don't find the running joke with Frau Blucher to be that effective, I don't mind her as a character. I can't say the same for Inspector Kemp (Kenneth Mars), though, as I find him to be downright irritating. I get the joke: he's an exaggerated parody of Inspector Krogh from Son of Frankenstein, but he is so over-the-top, even for this movie. I don't mind the gag of his prosthetic arm being so overly-articulated that he has to continuously twist and smack it into place for every little action, and that it sometimes gets stuck. And, I'll admit, I did kind of laugh at the end when the monster accidentally yanks his arm loose and he yells, "Shit!" Rather, it's his acting and performance that I can't stand: his molasses-thick German accent, that's clearly a put on, given the gag of him speaking more clearly to those who don't understand him; his sudden yelling of certain words and emphasis on various letters; and his exaggerated, goose-stepping movements. Not only do I find it to be too much to take, which is why I'm glad he's not in the movie that much, but I wonder, what does any of this have to do with Inspector Krogh? The prosthetic arm and stiff movements I get, as they reference him, but why the overdone German accent, which Krogh didn't have? All of the other villagers and people there, aside from Igor, talk in German accents (even though this is supposed to be Transylvania), but why is he such an exaggeration? Maybe it's because he looks and moves like a stereotypical Nazi or something but, whatever the case, it gets on my nerves. I also don't find it very funny how Kemp is so stiff with his arm that, when the villagers storm the castle at the end, they use him as a battering ram, or how, after they make peace with the monster, he drops everything and invites them all to his home to celebrate.

Elizabeth (Madeline Kahn), on the other hand, I do find funny, especially in how different she is at the beginning of the movie as opposed to the end. I like how, in her introductory scene where she's seeing Frederick off at the train station, she does seem to genuinely love him but won't let him touch her in any way because she's going to a fancy party. She won't let him kiss her for fear of messing up her lipstick, touch her hair, embrace her because it would wrinkle her dress, or even hold her hand

because of her nail polish. As a result, the only way he can say goodbye is for them to rub elbows before he boards the train. She then shows up at the castle near the end of the movie, surprising Frederick and everyone else, including Inga, whom he'd just had sex with. Upon arrival, Elizabeth is hit on by Igor, who only manages to creep her out, and becomes suspicious as to what exactly Inga assists Frederick in. Like she did before, she makes Frederick keep his hands to himself, this time when he comes on to her in the night, asking him to wait until they're married so she can allow him to take her with a clear conscience. With no other choice, Frederick goes along with it, as Elizabeth only allows him to kiss her goodnight, adding, "No tongues," prompting him to keep his tongue totally still. However, Elizabeth's chilly, clammed up demeanor cracks after the monster abducts her and takes her off somewhere. She's unable to do much to stop him when he decides to have his way with her, and when she sees what he's packing, she's quite taken aback. When he descends on her, she starts singing Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life and, after doing it with him six times, she's more than willing to go for a seventh. That's when the monster is lured away by the sound of the violin music and Elizabeth runs through a gambit of emotions, yelling at the monster for leaving after having his way, warning him he'd better not say this to anyone, and then declares, "Ohh... I think I love him." Indeed, at the end of the movie, she ends up with the monster, now looking like the Bride of Frankenstein, complete with the hairdo and the hissing, which she does in a seductive manner.

Gene Hackman is at the center of what is probably my favorite scene, when he appears as the blind hermit, Harold, in the send-up of the famous scene from Bride of Frankenstein. I love how, even though he was only there for four days and did it for free, simply because he wanted a part in it, he's as sincere in the role as O.P. Heggie was in that film, coming off as a lonely man who simply wants some companionship and whose wish is almost instantly granted. Even though the monster bursts through his door with a loud snarl, he's excited to have anybody pay him a visit, so much so that he practically fawns over the monster as he touches and gives him an open embrace. He also has sympathy for him when he realizes he can't speak and offers him some soup. Unfortunately, Harold is so clumsy in his blindness that he unintentionally torments the poor monster, pouring hot soup into his lap, smashing his mug of wine when he tries to have a toast (the way Peter Boyle groans and rolls his eyes at that is especially funny), and then lights his thumb on fire when trying to light a cigar for him (again, Boyle makes it all the more funny with his exaggerated yell), sending him running out the door and back into the woods.

Even though Young Frankenstein is one of those movies that's so entrenched in popular culture that you likely can't really pinpoint exactly when you first heard of it, I can give a rough personal account. It was some time before or after I started middle school, when I had first really gotten into the old Universal movies and was trying to see all of them. One day, I was in the now long defunct store On-Cue, looking for tapes, and I saw the VHS for this on a shelf. It looked interesting, although the title confused me, as I knew of Son of Frankenstein and all of the other

movies of the 30's and 40's, but I'd never heard of Young Frankenstein. Figuring that maybe it was one of the movies under a different name, I almost bought that VHS, but then I read the back and found that, while the images made it seem like one of those movies, it was actually a comedy spoof. Being a very uptight kid who only wanted serious monster movies at the time, that turned me off and I put the VHS back on the shelf. It's ironic because, had I bought the movie, I would have probably

thought it was an actual horror movie from that period at first, because it looks exactly like one of them. This is where I can give the most praise, as I can tell this was made by people who are fans of those old movies. Seriously, everything is in place, from the black-and-white cinematography and the art direction to the scenes and tropes that are parodied and even some of the imagery. The film just looks gorgeous in its stark black-and-white, and Mel Brooks and cinematographer Gerald

Hirschfeld use it to create shots and images that wouldn't have been out of place in one of those classic movies. There are plenty of deep, dark shadows, hearkening back to the German Expressionism aesthetic those films adopted and you have great moments like the shot of the monster's head glowing in the scene where they bring him to life (which they achieved with a fake head that looks exactly like Peter Boyle); a shot of the monster's shadow going across the buildings in the village that, again, is as expressionistic as it gets; another shot of the monster standing in Elizabeth's window, silhouetted against the night sky and full moon; and the following shot of him carrying her through the dark, misty woods, which look straight out of The Wolf Man and other Universal horror films of that time.

The production design by Dale Hennesy is totally on point as well, with the crowning achievement being the sets of Castle Frankenstein. The exterior courtyard and front door, done on a backlot at MGM Studios, are spectacular, especially with the enormous knockers of said door, and the inside looks just as great. The foyer is another knockout in terms of design and sheer scale, with a high ceiling, a gigantic fireplace and chandelier, a suit of armor up against the wall, an old-fashioned candelabra on a table in the center, and a twisting

staircase. There's also a nice dining room with a lovely, large table on the first floor, and when Elizabeth shows up near the end, she gets an equally nice-looking bedroom. As for Frederick, he's given his grandfather's bedroom, which also served as his library, complete with a portrait of him on the wall, showing that Frederick is a dead ringer for him (that portrait smiles when Frederick decides to continue his work), and a bookcase with a secret passage behind it that can be uncovered by removing a candle that makes the bookcase swing around. Said passage leads down

another staircase, this one with enormous cobwebs lining it and long-unlit torches on the walls, and at the bottom is a room full of scientific equipment, as well as shelves containing severed heads in various states of decomposition. Beyond that is Victor Frankenstein's old laboratory, which, when Frederick, Inga, and Igor first find it, is in a bad state of disuse and full of more cobwebs, but has all the expecting trappings, from the electrical machines and switches to the gurney on the

platform that raises up to the roof in order to attract the lightning down. Mel Brooks was able to get the actual laboratory equipment from the classic Frankenstein movies through the very man who created it, Kenneth Strickfaden, and he received a special credit, which he never got on those old films. This would turn out to be the final movie Strickfaden was involved with and I'm sure he was happier about his equipment being used here than in the atrocious Dracula vs. Frankenstein several years before. And finally, behind another door down there is Victor's private library, from which Frederick learns of how he first created the monster.

Other great, classic settings include the dark, moonlit streets of the village; the small churchyard where the body used for the monster is buried beneath a single, dead tree that's so artificial-looking that it adds all the more to the fantastical aesthetic, as do the big, cross-shaped grave-markers; the misty forests and dark hills that make up the countryside; the even mistier train station when Frederick first arrives at the village; and the small yard and cottage where the young girl, Helga, lives with her parents. A lot of these

exteriors are shot with the backdrop of a full moon up in the sky that, again, is so appealing to fans of these old movies. The more modern and clinical settings, like the medical school where Frederick is teaching when he's introduced (which was actually the University of Southern California) and the depository from which Igor steals the brain, are also memorable for their white, clean look and how much of a contrast they are to the more period-like settings of the village and surrounding countryside.

But, my personal favorite settings are those that are taken almost directly from those old films. Besides the castle laboratory and some of the interiors, you also have the small town hall where Inspector Kemp is first introduced, which is based on a similar set from Son of Frankenstein, and, of course, the blind hermit's cottage from Bride of Frankenstein, which is actually more spacious and not quite as utterly destitute in the way it looks, but still serves the same purpose.

Speaking of which, if you're a fan of those old Universal movies, you can tell that the people behind this film are as well, given all the references. Some of them, like the grave-robbing and stitching together of body parts, the creation scene, Frederick shouting, "It's alive! It's alive!", the mob of torch-wielding villagers, and the references to the character of the Bride of Frankenstein, are recognizable to mainstream audiences, but others, such as all those references and parodies of specific moments from the various movies, are clearly done with more hardcore fans in mind.

While most will probably be aware of the scene between the monster and the little girl from the original, and probably the blind hermit scene as well, little things like the past voice of Victor Frankenstein saying dialogue akin to what Henry Frankenstein said to Fritz in the original, the detail of the kites being used to attract the lightning down, Victor having kept a record of the monster's creation, which became a sort of MacGuffin in the later Frankenstein movies, and the monster being

chained in jail like he was in a scene in Bride of Frankenstein, I believe are meant for those who've seen each of those movies a dozen times. In fact, the movie that gets the most homages is actually Son of Frankenstein. Not only is Inspector Kemp based on Inspector Krogh from that movie, and the small town hall setting there is recreated, but the basic story is very similar to that movie's plot, with a relative of the original Dr. Frankenstein returning to the old family estate and eventually continuing

his experiments, while the still frightened villagers fret about what his arrival may mean for them. The look of the village and the castle are similar to sets in that movie, and they even parody the scene where Krogh and Wolf von Frankenstein have a tense game of darts, right down to Kemp sticking the darts into his artificial arm. And finally, you have the line where one of the village's authority figures says, "We still have nightmares from five times before," suggesting that this movie acknowledges everything from the original Frankenstein up to Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man. Obviously, I think that was meant as just another wink at the audiences who would be watching this spoof, but, again, it just goes to show how this was meant as a film for the fans, by the fans.

In addition to the black-and-white, Mel Brooks made use of some other old-fashioned film and editing techniques to make the movie feel more of the period. For instance, there are some zoom-ins that feel very sudden and rigid, sometimes ending on the image obviously becoming a still, like when Igor is first introduced. There are also plenty of archaic scene transitions, such as wipes and irises in and out, one of which is done in the shape of a heart for the moment where we see the monster and Elizabeth after they've made love, and some

moments in a montage where the characters' faces are superimposed over shots of the equipment working. And the special effects work, which is minimal, due to the story and the modest budget of around $3 million, and consists mainly of just some matte paintings, like the one of Castle Frankenstein, feel like the type you'd see in those old films.

Even though this is a PG-rated comedy, there are some surprisingly gruesome images in it that include shots of long decayed bodies, rotting body parts, and fresh organs and limbs. For instance, one of the first things you see after the opening credits is a big close-up of the shriveled, mummified corpse of Baron Beaufort von Frankenstein, clutching the box containing his will in skeletal hands, and when Frederick and Inga are walking through the secret passageway early on, they come upon that room that has a shelf lined with severed

heads, going backwards from a skull, which has a card that says 3 YEARS DEAD, to two other heads that are still decomposing, having been there for two years and six months, respectively. And when Igor goes to steal a brain for Frederick, you not only get big close-ups of the brains but, when he gets startled and drops the one brain and the jar containing it, you actually see it splattered on the floor and it is kind of disgusting.

Call my sense of humor low-brow or whatever you want, but I still find the instances of physical comedy in this movie to be the funniest. The slapstick comes in two kinds, with one being the traditional type, like at the beginning when Frederick demonstrates the difference between voluntary and reflexive movements to his medical students by threatening to hit an elderly, and grotesquely thin, man named Mr. Hilltop, culminating in him putting a clamp on the back of

his neck in order to block the nerve impulses and then kneeing him. Although Mr. Hilltop does nothing to stop the kick and doesn't recoil in pain from it, he groans and crosses his eyes, and when Frederick removes the clamp, he falls back and is carried off on a gurney, grabbing where he was kicked and groaning. Other examples include the sequence with the revolving bookcase and Frederick getting smooshed between it and the wall (the way his voice sounds when he tells Inga what

to do next I find especially funny), the monster sending little Helga flying through her bedroom window and into her bed when he sits on the opposite end of her seesaw, and, again, the sequence with the blind man. The other kind is of a more morbid nature, like the very first gag, where someone tries to take a box from the clutching hands of the corpse of Baron Beaufort von Frankenstein, only for it to be harder than expected, or when Frederick and Igor have removed a corpse, only for a cop to come around

when the coffin has fallen off their wagon and the corpse's arm is sticking out, forcing Frederick to stand in a way that makes it seem like it's his own arm. Other examples are when Frederick accidentally stabs himself in the thigh with a scalpel while ranting in the classroom, him and Inga finding those severed heads in various stages of decomposition, only to come across Igor pretending to be one, or when Igor accidentally drops the brain he was meant to steal and you see it splattered on the floor (speaking of which, that notice on the brain depository's door that says, "AFTER 5:00 PM, SLIP BRAINS THROUGH SLOT IN DOOR," is pretty grossly funny as well).

While I said in the introduction that I don't care for a lot of the really over-the-top scenes and performances, I can get some enjoyment out of Gene Wilder's really crazy moments, as he was so good at coming off as a screaming lunatic while still being funny. Some of my favorite moments with him are when he goes nuts in the classroom when pressed about his grandfather, yelling, "Hearts and kidneys are tinker toys! I am talking about the central nervous system!", and, "My

grandfather's work was doodoo!"; how he tries not to lose his temper with Frau Blucher when she keeps offering various nightcaps; his utter insanity during the creation scene and his getting so angry when it seems like he failed that he starts beating on the monster's body and has to be pulled away while crying, "I don't want to live!"; him slapping his food when Inga says he hasn't touched it, saying, "There. Now I've touched it. Happy?"; and when he locks himself in the room with the

monster and, despite what he told the others, starts yelling, "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!" But the moment with him that I find the funniest is when the monster attacks him and, as he's choking him, he tries to tell Inga and Igor to give him the sedative but has to do so through charades. That

in and of itself is pretty funny, but, it's what  happens afterward, when they've managed to knock the monster out, that really gets me. First, I like how aggravated Frederick is about Igor thinking he was trying to say "sedagive," yelling in total annoyance and bewilderment, "Seda-give?!" And then, you have the moment where Frederick figures out that Igor gave him an abnormal brain for the monster and he seethes and grows in anger, snarling, "Are you saying that I put an abnormal brain into a seven and a half foot long, fifty-four inch wide gorilla?! Is that what you're telling me?!", before attempting to choke Igor, forcing him to communicate with Inga through charades, when Inspector Kemp's arrival interrupts them.

All that said, not every moment with Frederick works for me. I don't find that moment where he's having a nightmare about his being a Frankenstein and singing, "DESTINY! DESTINY! NO ESCAPING THAT FOR ME! DESTINY! DESTINY! NO ESCAPING THAT FOR ME!", to be that funny, nor do I particularly like the dart game between him and Inspector Kemp, as much as I do admire how the filmmakers paid homage to a scene from one of the less mainstream Universal

Frankenstein movies. A big part of that, though, is my disdain for the character of Kemp and his performance, with him yelling certain words or syllables for emphasis, like, "This is Transyll-vania, and you are a Frankenstein!", causing Frederick to miss the dartboard and send them either flying through the window, puncturing the tires of Kemp's car and hitting his driver in his helmet, or hitting a random cat offscreen. I also just find that scene to be kind of dumb overall, although I do smirk at Kemp making it seem like

he's an excellent dart-player when he sticks all of them together into the bullseye when Frederick has his back turned. Speaking of which, I've already said that I find Kemp to be more annoying than funny, and, while I don't mind Frau Blucher, I also, again, don't find that running gag with the horses to be funny, nor do I laugh at her over-the-top exclamations of, "Yes!", when Frederick realizes she was the one who lured him down into Victor's laboratory with the violin. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Young Frankenstein tends to push my craziness tolerance past its breaking point.

While we're on the subject of the humor and antics of specific characters, I mainly find myself tilting my head and raising my eyebrow at Igor, as he's just so weird. From the way he pops up out of nowhere in unexpected places and, in one scene, switches his hump from one side to another, to his penchant for saying bizarre things and messing with people, and finally, just for the way he looks due to Marty Feldman's big, bug-eyes, there's no denying he's one of the movie's most memorable

aspects. Mind you, I don't find everything he does to be laugh out-loud funny (although I did laugh the first time I saw the scene where Frederick yells, "Damn your eyes!", and Igor, breaking the fourth wall and pointing at them, says, "Too late,"), as some of the gags are kind of eye-rolling and predictable, like the "walk this way" moment or when he says, "Could be worse... Could be raining," and it immediately starts pouring, but, if nothing else, they do often leave me going, "Huh," in a perplexed manner. I think the most out there

thing he says is when, while he, Frederick, and Inga are having dinner when it seems like they failed to bring the monster to life, he mentions, "You know, I'll never forget my old dad. When these things would happen to him, the things he'd say to me... 'What the hell are you doing in the bathroom day and night? Why don't you get out of there and give someone else a chance?'" I'm going to assume that was a masturbation joke but I'm not completely sure. However, like I mentioned at the beginning, I find it odd that Gene Wilder wouldn't allow Mel Brooks to physically appear in the movie because he didn't want to break the fourth wall and yet, Igor does it twice. Maybe they just felt that what Feldman was doing in those moments was too good to leave out and, when I think about it, I have to agree, as both of them do make me smile.

The sexual humor I don't care for much at all. I'm not a prude by any means but I just tend not to find this type of stuff particularly funny to begin with and thus, I'm not amused by the "big knockers" joke, the talk of the monster's "schwanzstucker" and the moment when you hear its effect on women, or Frederick receiving such a benefit from the brain transference with the monster. The only times I kind of laugh at this humor is when, after Inga first brings up the size of the monster's equipment, Igor comments, "He's going to be very popular," Frau Blucher suggests Frederick "put on a tie" when she informs him of Elizabeth's impending arrival after finding him and Inga in the sack together, and the way Elizabeth's demeanor changes when the monster does it with her six times; other than that, it's not my bag.

That brings me to one of the movie's most famous scenes: Puttin' on the Ritz. It could be a coincidence but the setup of this sequence reminds me of King Kong, with the big theater and Frederick wearing a tuxedo as he presents the monster to an audience full of fellow scientists and doctors. Regardless, after receiving no applause when he's introduced, and actually being hissed at when he walks out onto the stage, Frederick talks about embarking on an experiment meant to reanimate dead tissue, which gets him laughed and

scoffed at. He then has the monster walk out from behind the curtains, the sight of which causes a panic and almost leads to everyone running out, but Frederick manages to make everyone remain in their seats. He has the monster demonstrate how he's able to balance and coordinate himself as he walks forward, heel to toe, and then, when he reaches the edge of the stage, has him do the same, only backwards. Both of these actions receive applause, while Frederick gives the monster a candy for a job well-done. He then prepares to

show them that this is only a smattering of what the monster is capable of, declaring, "Ladies and gentlemen, madames and monsieurs, damen und herren, from what was once an inarticulate mass of lifeless tissues, may I now present a cultured, sophisticated, man about town!" The lights go down, and when they come back up after Frederick says, "Hit it!", both him and the monster are dressed in top-hats and tails and they go into the routine. So, what do I think about this scene? It's

definitely memorable, I'll give it that, and the monster loudly croaking out his verses when he's prompted is not a sound you're likely to forget. All in all, I think it's fine. I don't find it to be gut-bustingly hilarious but it is amusing (especially with how stiff and uncomfortable the monster looks), the dancing is well choreographed, and, as he'd already proved with Willy Wonka, Gene Wilder actually had a fairly good singing voice.

However, the sequence after the number when things go wrong and the monster is captured and chained up in the jailhouse leads into one of my major problems: the last twenty or so many minutes really drag. While I don't mind the monster escaping from the jail after he decides he's had enough of one guard torturing him, all that stuff with Elizabeth arriving, being abducted by the monster, and him giving her the best sex she could ever hope to have, as well as Inspector Kemp leading a posse of torch-wielding villagers into the

woods, makes it go on so much longer than I feel is necessary. And while I like the climax where Frederick, after luring the monster back to the castle, gives him some of his own cerebral spinal fluid to correct the imbalance in his brain, as well as the little speech the monster gives when he becomes articulate, I find myself wishing the movie would hurry and wrap up when it reaches that ending which shows the monster ended up with Elizabeth and Frederick married Inga instead. I

appreciate Elizabeth looking and hissing like the Bride of Frankenstein (if you think about it, whether intentional or not, it's an interesting take on what happens with her and the monster in the original Mary Shelley novel), but the monster sitting up in bed, wearing glasses as he reads the Wall Street Journal, while Frederick starts acting like him with Inga and gets her to sing Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life due to his now being as well-endowed, makes me go, "Just end, already. I've had enough." And fortunately it does, but so few people talk about the movie's third act that I have a feeling most are unaware of how it ends and its pacing issues (although the latter could just be my own problem).

I heard that dramatic "Dun, dun-dun!" piece of music from this movie long before I realized this is where it came from, as I'd heard it on this very early YouTube video where this gopher turns around and looks very menacingly at the camera. If you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you've likely seen that image or, at the very least, seen a meme of it. I also remember thinking that gopher was doing something with his hand that made him look like Dr. Evil in the Austin Powers movies (I now put that down to bad video quality) and, because of that, I thought that piece of music was from those movies, not realizing it was from Young Frankenstein until I watched the Blu-Ray for the first time. In any case, like almost all of Mel Brooks' movies, the music was composed by John Morris, who strove to make it sound like a score that would've been heard from the time period of the original Universal movies. Also, very little of it is comedic or even light-hearted, with its most noteworthy piece being the "Transylvania Lullaby," the melancholic violin theme that's played both by Frau Blucher and is actually part of the score, playing over the opening credits and coming up whenever the movie gets into the sadness of the monster. For me, it's most effect use is an orchestral version for when the monster is taken away when his theatrical presentation goes sour, culminating in a low, downbeat bit for when he's shown chained up in the jail. That dramatic bit is used both for the main title and for when Frederick first sees the castle, and a more low-key, foreboding version is used when Frederick is first told that he's inherited his great-grandfather's estate. There's also an eerie, funeral dirge-like bit that plays when the laboratory is first seen and Victor Frankenstein's words are heard; a string buildup to a dramatic flourish when Frederick believes he could make a creature like his grandfather, which is recreated later when Frederick finally accepts his heritage; a ghostly piece when Frederick and Igor sneak into the graveyard to dig up the freshly-buried body; a creeping but rather fun piece for Igor sneaking into the brain depository; a really stirring, building theme for the creation scene; and a brief but powerful "dun, dun, dun!" when the monster is first revealed to be alive.

Like I said, there isn't much light-hearted or comedic music to be found in the movie, but some notable examples are a bustling, traveling bit that plays at the beginning when Frederick is taking the train to Transylvania, a low, oddball trombone sound that plays at the end of what was initially creepy and eerie when Igor is introduced, and a very brief, airy bit for when Frederick and Inga are shown having breakfast in one scene. However, the most noteworthy comedic use of music is one that doesn't even seem to be the case at first. When Harold, the blind man, is introduced, you hear a sad, lonely-sounding violin playing, hearkening back to the original scene from Bride of Frankenstein, but when the monster bursts into the cottage, you find out it was something that Harold was listening to on a phonograph record. It's not much of a moment but one that did make me smirk and go, "Hah!", when I saw it.

Make no mistake, I do like Young Frankenstein, reason being that there's a lot to like. Most of the cast is superb and excellent in their roles, the movie is very well photographed, the art direction, settings, and atmosphere are pulled off superbly, there are some undeniable funny moments, the music score is very good, and, as both a send-up and loving tribute of the classic Universal Frankenstein movies, it's done perfectly, in my opinion. But, all that said, I don't think it's the immortal classic so many others see it as, mainly because so much of it was spoiled for me and referenced numerous times before I finally saw it. That said, though, there are types of humor and jokes used that don't do it for me, I find the character of Inspector Kemp to be irritating rather than entertaining, and the third act drags in my opinion, as I find myself wishing the movie would wrap things up. I know I'm probably not going to win any new fans with my opinions but, hey, I do think it's a good movie; I just don't love it or find myself compelled to revisit it very often.