Young Frankenstein has been one of my favorite movies for as long as I’ve loved movies. It’s a perfect film from two absolute legends who are also two of my favorites ever. Gene Wilder and Mel Brooks are the best to ever do it. I adore this movie so much I’ve read Brooks’ book about making it. I also read his autobiography which includes an entire chapter on the production. So you can understand why I did not think it was possible for anyone to love this horror movie spoof more than I do. Then I finally watched the movies that inspired it. Now I know Young Frankenstein is even better than I ever realized.
Obviously, I didn’t need to watch Classic Universal Horror movies to know Young Frankenstein was Brooks’ love letter to those films. I was aware he fought to film in black-and-white. I know he used actual props from the 1931 Frankenstein starring Boris Karloff and that he and Wilder based certain scenes and characters on both that film, its sequels, and others from the era. Plus, I had read all about how he tried to capture the same aesthetics as those horror gems through how he constructed his sets, his costumes, and how he lit his movie. He truly wanted to match their look and feel.
Even if I hadn’t read his books and countless pieces about Young Frankenstein, it didn’t seem to matter. Those Universal Monster films have been a ubiquitous part of pop culture for my entire life. I was very aware of them. I figured I could see how his film was based on them without having ever actually watched them.
Or so I thought. Because, despite appreciating the difference between “knowing” and “understanding,” that experience is the key to bridging that gap, I took my ignorance of Young Frankenstein‘s inspirations for granted. I figured I knew enough about Universal Monster Movies to get it. I assumed I appreciated what Brooks had accomplished. Since I loved the movie, I obviously did, right?
I didn’t. Not really. How could I until I saw how funny and schlocky The Bride of Frankenstein is? Until I saw the inherent humor of a monster sitting down to dinner with a friendly old man who can’t see? How could I fully appreciate Cloris Leachman’ Frau Blücher until I witnessed the wonderful Una O’Connor’s performances in Universal’s movies? I couldn’t even appreciate what Brooks pulled off from a technical standpoint until I saw Renfield meet Dracula in his castle. I always just assumed Brooks, with more modern sensibilities and technologies, had improved on Universal’s aesthetics.
Now I see he was truly mirroring the best of that era in every way while also mining it for untapped comedy. He was recreating something that had been lost for so long. By 1954’s Creature from the Black Lagoon, not even Universal could make its horror films look as good as its early installments. And he did that while also making something wholly new that could stand on its own.
I was so ignorant of what Brooks did that only now do I even know why my favorite scene from Young Frankenstein is maybe the funniest spoof ever. I had to see the great Dwight Frye in action in 1931 to know how truly funny this moment is.
Young Frankenstein clearly works on its own—it made someone with only a surface-level understanding of Universal Monster Movies love it. But knowing just how authentic Young Frankenstein is to the very films it loves has given me a new way to love Mel Brooks movie. It has given me a greater appreciation for exactly how impressive it is. I had been watching a love letter without bothering to understand the object of its affection.
My first time watching Universal Monster Movies was wholly satisfying on its own. I loved them in ways I didn’t expect. But, like Brooks’ seminal comedy, they gave me more than a great experience unto itself. Because I definitely didn’t expect those movies to also make me realize I didn’t love Young Frankenstein enough.
Mikey Walsh is a staff writer at Nerdist. He’s ready for you to yell at him about never seeing these films. You can follow him on Bluesky at @burgermike. And also anywhere someone is ranking the Targaryen kings.