To wrap up our celebration of Halloween month, Roy Bjellquist and I will be joined by our special guests, Michael Rizzo and Marybeth Ritkouski of SciFi Distilled, for an exhaustive, perhaps exhausting, discussion of the Gene Wilder-Mel Brooks classic, “Young Frankenstein” (1974). As always, your thoughts and insights are welcome! We’ll be watching for your comments.
Also, we hope you’ll stick around for our post-conversation virtual costume party.
We’ll hurl the gauntlet of science into the frightful face of death itself!
But first… walk this way.
Roy’s Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner live-streams on Facebook, this Friday night at 7:00 EDT!
It’s one of those rare films that, if anyone quotes just about any line, everyone knows exactly where it’s from. And yet, although it’s one of the great movie comedies, beneath the schtick and excruciating wordplay, the torment and isolation of Mary Shelley’s “monster” endures. The laughter is leavened with sentiment, so that there’s still a beating heart at the center of “Young Frankenstein” (1974).
Roy Bjellquist and I will be joined by our special guests, Michael Rizzo and Marybeth Ritkouski of SciFi Distilled, as we wrap up our month-long celebration of Halloween with an exhaustive discussion of this Gene Wilder-Mel Brooks creation and its pitch-perfect cast: Wilder, Peter Boyle, Teri Garr, Marty Feldman, Cloris Leachman, Kenneth Mars, Madeline Kahn, and Gene Hackman as the Hermit, in a comic highlight lifted almost directly from “The Bride of Frankenstein.”
Brooks’ impulse toward freewheeling parody is tempered by genuine affection for the great Universal Studio horror classics, extending even to the use of authentic lab equipment from the 1930s originals. And there is nothing but respect in John Morris’ soulful, evocative score.
Following our conversation, as an added bonus, there will also be a virtual costume contest, for anyone interested in joining us on Zoom. Personally, my make-up test yesterday was a failure, so I’m on to Plan B.
Share some laughs and leave your comments, on the next Roy’s Tie-Dye Sci-Fi Corner. We’ll be in stitches for “Young Frankenstein.” Our costumed discourse will begin, live-streamed on Facebook, this Friday evening at 7:00 EDT!
In common, I suppose, with just about anyone familiar his work – which would be anyone with any kind of familiarity with American popular culture since 1950 – I was saddened to learn of the passing of Carl Reiner, who died on Monday at the age of 98.
As a writer, producer, director, and actor, Reiner earned 11 Emmy Awards, including two for his work on “Your Show of Shows” and five for his own creation, “The Dick Van Dyke Show.” He acted in “It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World” and “The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming.” He directed “Where’s Poppa?” with Ruth Gordon and “Oh, God!” with George Burns.
In his later years, he appeared in the “Ocean’s Eleven” films, with George Clooney and Brad Pitt, had recurring roles on the sitcoms “Two and a Half Men” and “Hot in Cleveland,’ and did voice work for animated shows such as “Family Guy” and “King of the Hill.”
On top of everything else – his work in movies, television, Broadway, and print – Reiner directed four of Steve Martin’s funniest comedies: “The Jerk” (1979), “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” (1982), “The Man with Two Brains” (1983), and “All of Me” (1984).
“The Jerk” gets all the love (it had the most quotable lines), but “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” is a cinematic valentine for classic movie buffs. The film’s conceit – concocted over lunch by Martin, Reiner, and screenwriter George Gipe – was to construct a new story around scenes culled from movies of the 1940s, employing insert shots and trick photography so that Martin, as hardboiled detective Rigby Reardon, interacts onscreen with Barbara Stanwyck, Veronica Lake, Humphrey Bogart, and other luminaries of Hollywood’s golden age.
Gimmicky? Sure! But for 90 minutes, I’ll take it. Reiner himself turns up fairly late in the game as a Nazi fugitive operating out of Peru.
“Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” went to great lengths to imbue its pastiche with a sense of verisimilitude. To this end, Reiner secured legendary costume designer Edith Head, who had worked in Hollywood since the 1920s. (A number of her movies – including “The Glass Key,” “Double Indemnity,” “The Lost Weekend,” and “Sorry, Wrong Number” – were sampled for the new project). It would be Head’s final film. The production designer, John DeCuir, had also been active since the 1930s.
But the real masterstroke was the hiring of film composer Miklós Rózsa, whose career flourished during the heyday of noir, having provided scores for “Double Indemnity,” “The Lost Weekend,” and “The Killers,” scenes from which were also recreated in Reiner’s film. This was meta before meta was cool. Sadly, it would also turn out to be Rózsa’s final film. But what a way to go!
Of course, I haven’t seen the movie in years – we’re now as far away from “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” as “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” was from “Double Indemnity” – but I remember being mightily entertained as a 15 year-old. I’m sure I was well below the demographic that would have gotten most of the references. But then, I was a rather unusual child.
Sadly, plaid is no longer among Reiner’s wardrobe options. I’ve also been thinking a lot about Mel Brooks, Reiner’s best friend for 70 years. The two men met while working with Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca on “Your Show of Shows” in 1950, and have been inseparable companions throughout their golden years. According to Reiner, their daily routine involved having dinner, watching “Jeopardy” (taped), and then Mel falling asleep while watching a movie.
Reiner and Brooks formulated their classic “2000 Year Old-Man” routine when goofing around behind the scenes on “Your Show of Shows.” By 1960, they were recording it. Their final collaboration, “The 2000 Year-Old Man in 2000,” released in 1998, received a Grammy Award for Spoken Comedy Album.
It’s always especially sad to lose a comedian. Comedians should not age (except perhaps to 2000). They never really grow old, so there should be an exemption. Here’s hoping there’s a special place in heaven for those who make us laugh.
PHOTO: Reiner, channeling Erich von Stroheim in “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid”
