Flicks

Young Frankenstein

Reviewers: John Ryall

If you are a dedicated horror film fan, avoid seeing Mel Brooks' latest film, Young Frankenstein — it'll make your blood boil.

Mel Brooks directed Blazing Saddles which made a fortune at the box office in satirising the American western. In Young Frankenstein Brooks takes on the 1930's honor film cult complete with its mythology of mad scientists, monsters, creaking staircases and cobwebs.

He exploits everything, presenting us with the demonic energy of a scientist driven to create life (played by Gene Wilder, made up to look like the 1930's, hero), a bug-eyed hunchback whose hump has a strange habit of shifting from shoulder to shoulder (Marty Feldman) and a sinister housekeeper whose very name makes horses rear in fright (Doris Leachman). Even his monster is really a little boy at heart, crying on Dr. Frankenstein's shoulder and wanting to be Loved rather than hated.

The film techniques (used by film makers 40 years ago) add to the parody. Scenes open and close with the use of an iris or a wipe and at every new development in the plot the soundtrack roars with sentimental music or claps of thunder.

And even the most straightfaced must have smirked in the scene when Gene Wilder's fiancee screams as she is being sexually assulted only to have the screams turn into the tune of the 1930's hit 'Naughty Marietta' because of the rapist's organ.

Mel Brooks is a genuine funny man hut essentially a sprinter. Whereas he might have a television audience laughing continuously, 104 minutes of film shows up a few weaknesses. The jokes, especially those relating to the physical appearances of the characters become tedious when used a second time and the gaps between the funny parts become more prominent than intended.

However, if you get cheesed off with stories of the magical Golden Years of Hollywood, Young Frankenstein is essential for an alternative view.