Mel Brooks
Frankenstein Junior

The best films, the ones that have made cinematic history and have gone down in history, often have experienced a tormented embryonic phase. Most of the time, it's natural to invoke destiny, since only some coincidences or the perseverance of individuals have prevented a masterpiece from being lost to history. "Young Frankenstein" is no exception. It's undeniable that Mel Brooks is a genius in directing, producing, and many other things related to the seventh art and theater. And in that distant 1974, seeing his name beside this film's title, one might have immediately thought of a lightning-bolt idea, a unique prerogative of the ninety-six-year-old Oscar winner. But no. Or not entirely, at least.

If Peter Boyle succeeded in donning the garb of the undead monster, the credit is mainly due to Gene Wilder, his insistence, and his perseverance. After achieving success in 1972 (following several failed episodes) thanks to Woody Allen's film “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask)”, the good Gene was tempted by the idea of creating his own screenplay around the figure of Dr. Frankenstein's nephew. While the script was coming to life, his agent, Mike Medavoy, acquired two new clients, Marty Feldman and Peter Boyle, who were immediately deemed suitable for the project. This was shared by Wilder, who kept them in mind. Mel Brooks, to whom the proposal had already been forwarded, rejected it immediately, primarily because he felt that the cinematic landscape was already saturated with films dedicated to Frankenstein. It was Wilder's aforementioned insistence that convinced the director, who then approached Columbia Pictures, which granted a budget not up to Brooks's requests and ultimately pushed him and Wilder to sign an exclusive five-year collaboration contract with 20th Century Fox.

Conceived as a parodic reinterpretation of Mary Shelley's Gothic horror novel, Young Frankenstein is inspired by James Whale's 1931 feature film, long a progenitor of the entire filmography dedicated to the monster. The use of black and white and the photography reminiscent of the 1930s films are choices made to link the film back to Whale's, which also provided original props used by Mel Brooks for shooting.

What makes this film unique in its genre, beyond the presence of true acting virtuosos, is the ability to make the already caricatured and parodic revisitation of gloomy settings and sinister situations hilarious. Starting from the beginning of the journey to Romania, where we have glimpses of pure comedy during the elbow greeting between Dr. Frederick von Frankenstein and his snobbish fiancée Elizabeth, we are catapulted into an entirely different reality. Acting as a parachute in the transition between comedy and "horror" is the presence of the servant Igor (or “Aigor” as noted), who with his strabismus and protruding bulging eyes, prominent hump, and playful demeanor (an understatement), accompanies the new master and the entire audience in the hall into Count Victor's castle. The two female figures, Frau Blücher (admit it, you heard the horses) and Inga, one very cold and enigmatic, the other kind, accommodating, and somewhat scatterbrained (as well as in her way provocative), immediately give us a sense of who we want to side with.

It's impossible not to associate any candle and candelabra with the rotating bookshelf scene leading to the secret room. How many times have we repeated through gritted teeth, holding back a smile, the phrase: “Put… the candle… back!” Or enthusiastically quoted (as if we were the putative fathers) the line: “Werewolf, there wolf!” And last but not least: “It… could… work!”, the translation from the original language of a less musical “IT… could… work!” (literally, “it could work!”).

Conflicting attitudes are the mainstay throughout the entire narration. The phase of total rejection by Frederick towards the figure of his grandfather (so much so that he wants to distort his name to avoid any connection with him) Count Victor von Frankenstein, and towards his scientific theories deemed absurd, soon turns into total acceptance and even determined motivation. Running parallel is the relationship with Frau Blücher, initially based on scrutiny and mistrust and later becoming collaborative, despite the revelation about the relationship the woman had years prior with Grandpa Victor.

Arrogance that becomes irreverence, seriousness that strips down and dresses in pure comedy. These are the main and deadly ingredients.

Inga and Elizabeth, so far removed and different from each other, end up being very similar. The former already funny in her own right, the latter even more amusing, behind that annoyingly snobbish and detached demeanor, which in fact makes her the caricature of the most ephemeral aristocratic woman.

Igor is a machine gun of jokes and quotations, and with his appearance as sinister as it is amusing, at times he becomes the real protagonist of the story, relegating his master to the role of a valiant sidekick. How can one not laugh and pull one's hair out during the clever brain swap and the ensuing attempted strangulation scene. Truly monstrous things, one might say. Marty Feldman manifestly has the “physique du role” and an alternative would surely have required much makeup and preparation, apart from a fake hump borrowed from a fake maternity dress belly. Peter Boyle, the “wizard” from Taxi Driver, is also perfect in the role of “The Creature,” with his height of six feet two inches, large hands, and prominent forehead.

The final part of the story takes even more the shape of a Mel Brooks comedy. The birth of the improbable love between Elizabeth (now proven ex of Dr. Frankenstein) and The Creature and the mischievous consideration regarding the enormous endowments of the mastodontic monster make everything highly surreal and incredibly entertaining. Up to Frederick’s final attempt to infuse wisdom into the abnormal brain, trying to transfer some gray matter starting from his own. With a result no one would expect. Misery loves company, one might say.

These days the film has returned to theaters in a restored version for its fiftieth anniversary. Only a few days to revisit a feature film on the big screen, which for half a century has been the domain of television or more frequently home video. A segment where in Italy, Young Frankenstein holds the first place among the most appreciated titles in VHS and now on DVD and Blu Ray. A copy of the film is kept at the Library of Congress of the United States of America. The highest recognition, among others, for what Mel Brooks has defined as his best work as a screenwriter and director. But not the funniest, according to him. Who knows about the others, one might say, if we didn't already know them.

In the end, let’s see it this way:

It could have been worse. It could have rained.