YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN: A Hilariously Twisted Take on the Icon

Young Frankenstein presents the monster in a brilliant performance by Peter Boyle, who is large, well-built, simultaneously scary, touching, and funny. The makeup slightly echoes Boris Karloff’s creation; the monster’s face is not gaunt, but plump, with a bald head instead of hair, a small, tasteful scar on the temple, and, instead of a neck bolt, a tailor’s zipper! Yet the creature moves and groans in ways similar to those in Frankenstein (1931), and is dressed in the same way as Karloff’s monster: an old suit and heavy, oversized shoes.

Watching Brooks’s film, one can say that it relates to the classic not so much through the character of the monster, but through its plot and — especially — its form. The laboratory equipment is, after all, original props from James Whale’s Frankenstein, designed by Kenneth Strickfaden. Young Frankenstein was filmed in black and white, which helped turn it into a formal masterpiece, where forgotten play with light and shadow returns, surprisingly used here quite seriously. There are plenty of lightning bolts splitting the sky, thunder sounds (nominated for an Oscar for sound), a menacing castle on a hill, and brightly lit clouds of fog hanging in the forest through which Dr. Frankenstein drives. This creates an atmosphere so saturated with mystery, horror, and anticipation of something incredible that even a serious Frankenstein could envy Brooks’s ability to create a shiver-inducing atmosphere. This sense of horror is combined here with slapstick and ridicule. At the same time, Brooks does not forget to show respect for the classic, which is the film’s second layer, beneath the wild comedy.

Besides the unforgettable atmosphere and the interesting monster character, the role of Igor, who insists on being called “Eye-gor” (an ironic reference to the cross-eyed actor playing the role), played by Marty Feldman, is memorable. This actor, known for his crossed eyes, perfectly fit the role of the physically and mentally twisted, limping Igor. Although his appearance might suggest disability, the lightness and self-irony with which Feldman plays this role allows the audience to laugh at it without feeling guilty about mocking a deformity. The makeup team didn’t have much work to do on Feldman, just adding a hump that shifts position several times throughout the film. Igor, just like his original counterpart Fritz from James Whale’s film, brings Dr. Frankenstein the wrong brain — this is the first major reference to the classic.

The character of Frau Blücher, played by Cloris Leachman (whose name causes horses to neigh loudly every time it’s mentioned), is a copy of the panicked maid Minnie from Whale’s Bride of Frankenstein (1935). This 1935 film provided the most material for jokes in Brooks’s film. We even get to see the monster’s bride — a hilariously hissing, conventionally playful character played by Madeline Kahn, with the same hairstyle Elsa Lanchester wore. This time, however, the relationship is consummated. Moreover, it’s not Frankenstein, but the fiancées of the doctor and the monster who discover the sweet secret of life. It’s the satisfaction of sex with the monster and the doctor, who adopts the most important feature of the monster — an insatiable lust for bedroom matters.

There is also a subplot in Young Frankenstein involving the monster’s encounter with a blind old man, played by Gene Hackman. This turns the classic model of “the goodness of the blind man” on its head, as Brooks’s version does not awaken warm feelings in the monster toward humanity, but instead discourages it from getting too close. It’s impossible not to laugh when watching the old man’s clumsy attempts to entertain the groaning guest. When the thirsty and hungry monster wants to drink from a clay mug, the old man raises a toast, clinking his mug against the one the monster holds so hard that the unfortunate creature is left holding just the ear of the broken vessel. The same happens when the old man offers the monster a cigar. Yes, the blind old man lights it, but the monster’s thumb, which the old man mistakes for a person’s, makes a joyous sound — not of pain but of pleasure.

Everything is upside down here. The doctor, who had previously obsessively fought against his fate, now convinces the monster that it is beautiful, wonderful, and loved, calling it a god, and then teaches the monster how to live normally and become a “man about town.” The peak of absurdity occurs in the finale when the doctor and his creation dance, sing, and tap dance on stage in front of the scientific elite. The classic Frankenstein quote continues: the little girl throwing flowers into the well is a character straight out of Whale’s 1931 film, and the sequence of bringing the monster to life recalls the staged grandeur of the classic work, but multiplied by ten — for the creation of fog in Brooks’s Transylvania, 1.5 tons of dry ice were used, and for the monster’s reanimation, energy with a power of 500,000 volts was discharged.

There’s also a nod to The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), where, just like in that film, the monster is captured and sits sadly and lonely in a cell, chained. The most interesting and funniest parody occurs unexpectedly with the character of Police Inspector Hans Wilhelm Friedrich Kemp, who is directly “descended” from Inspector Krogh in Son of Frankenstein. Both have a prosthetic arm, but in the parody, Kemp’s arm causes plenty of trouble (the deceptive dart-throwing game is one of the film’s funniest scenes), especially when his awkward salutes are followed by German phrases inserted into quite unusual speeches:

Riots… are a terrible thing, und once they start, there’s little chance of stopping them before the bloodshed begins. I think… before we go killing people, we better make sure, like hell, we have enough evidence.

Mel Brooks, who lends his voice to Viktor Frankenstein in the film, resurrects the image of a town council and an angry mob with pitchforks, torches, and axes, marching to kill the monster — a recurring element in nearly all the black-and-white films of the genre. He also makes a small nod to the character of the Werewolf. When Viktor’s grandson, Dr. Frankensteen (as the main character insists on being called), trying to break from his mad roots, heads for the castle in Transylvania (a reference to Dracula — of course), the sexy Inga screams: “Werewolf!” upon hearing a howl in the dark forest. This leads to a funny line by Igor.

In the carriage are Frankensteen, Inga, and the coachman Igor:

Werewolf! – Inga screams.
Werewolf? – Frankensteen asks.
There! – Igor points at the forest.
What?! – Frankensteen asks.
There wolf! – Igor explains.

…then points to the castle and says:

There castle!

There are more wordplay jokes like this throughout the film, as well as situational humor and a musical streak, to which Mel Brooks has a particular fondness. The men in tights danced and sang, Rome danced and sang in History of the World: Part 1, and now a monster sings Puttin’ on the Ritz. On stage, they put on an incredible show, culminating in a tap dance by the seemingly lumbering monster. Frankenstein’s monster is dressed in a stylish tuxedo, wearing a bowler hat and holding a cane. It’s a one-of-a-kind moment — an uproarious riff on the classic monster genre. It’s also worth noting that Young Frankenstein manages to be both deeply respectful and deeply irreverent at the same time, blending the absurd with the nostalgic to celebrate both the classic and the comic sides of the genre.

A few years later, Mel Brooks did something similar in Spaceballs, dressing another cinematic icon – the Alien – in an identical fashion. To remind you – after bursting out of Kane’s chest, instead of hissing and running away, the Alien performs an absurd dance to the song “Hello my baby, hello my darling” under small stage spotlights, in front of shocked crew members of the Nostromo and patrons of a cosmic bar. Anyone who remembers the singing Alien can easily imagine how funny it must look when Frankenstein’s monster is thrown into nearly identical circumstances. Despite the mocking tone of Mel Brooks’ best parody, there is a lot of room in Young Frankenstein for serious monologues, like the one delivered by Frankenstein just before bringing the monster to life:

From that prophetic day, when the stinking, slimy creatures crawled from the water and called to the cold stars, our greatest fear has been the awareness of our own mortality. But today, we shall throw the gauntlet of science straight into the terrible face of death itself. Today, we shall ascend into the heavens! We will mock earthquakes! We will master thunder and penetrate to the very core of unfathomable nature!

It’s hard to believe that in this wacky comedy there’s a monologue that sends genuine chills down your spine, while also encouraging reflection on human mortality, fragility, and impermanence. There is also much about love, which, as the only force, can make the monster cease to be a mindless machine of destruction. So here, love and sacrifice face off against rejection and disbelief:

Love is the only thing that can save this poor creature. I intend to convince him that he is loved, even at the cost of my own life. No matter what you hear, and no matter how terribly I beg you, no matter how horribly I scream, do not open that door. Otherwise, you will ruin everything I have worked for. Do you understand? Do not open that door!

Yes, Doctor. It has been a pleasure working with you.

Such speeches grab you by the throat and force you to reflect! But moments later, in the same scene, when Doctor Frankenstein enters the cell, and the monster gets up and moves toward him, everything returns to the comedy, parody, and pure nonsense.

Let me out! Let me out of here! Damn it, let me out! You don’t get jokes? Jesus Christ! Let me out of here!

Gene Wilder was perfectly cast as Frankenstein. The doctor, fighting against his fate, takes on the characteristics of a romantic madman, with the family curse of the Frankensteins dormant within him. In fact, whenever Frankenstein loses control of the situation, the demon of creation awakens within him. The tension and frustration of this character are eased by the beautiful Inga, who joins the doctor in bed – the same bed where, just days earlier, the monster was born. Young Frankenstein is an intelligent and controlled mockery, a top-level comedy, a horror-comedy ride without brakes. A grand parody and, at the same time, a great tribute to the invaluable classics of cinema. A tribute built on a deep understanding of the characteristics that defined and shaped the sound and feel of 1930s and 1940s horror films. It’s no surprise that Mel Brooks and Gene Wilder were nominated for an Oscar in the category Best Adapted Screenplay. Mel Brooks’ film is now an undeniable classic of the genre, the best and most coherent work of the director. Young Frankenstein is not only one of the greatest works in film comedy but also one of the most original perspectives on the Frankenstein story.

Fun fact

In 2007, Brooks’ work was successfully adapted into a musical. In the Broadway version of Young Frankenstein, Shuler Hensley, who had previously played the same role in Van Helsing (2004), portrayed the monster.