Young Frankenstein
Young Frankenstein
8.095%92%
An American grandson of the infamous scientist, struggling to prove that his grandfather was not as insane as people believe, is invited to Transylvania, where he discovers the process that reanimates a dead body.
johnr339 reviewedOctober 19, 2025
Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein is what happens when you give a comedic genius a black-and-white camera, a castle full of questionable experiments, and a cast that fully commits to the absurd. It’s parody at its most intelligent and idiotic—often at the same time—and somehow that’s a compliment.
Gene Wilder, as Dr. “Fronkensteen,” gives one of the great manic performances of cinema. He’s perfectly calm one moment and screaming “IT’S ALIVE!” the next, like a man who’s had too much caffeine and too little therapy. His ability to bounce between serious scientist and unhinged lunatic makes the entire film feel like it’s balancing on the edge of madness—and loving every minute of it.
Peter Boyle’s Frankenstein monster deserves his own comedy award. Few actors could grunt, dance to “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” and still come across as oddly lovable. His chemistry with Madeline Kahn borders on dangerously funny—especially when things get a little, well, Brooksian in their suggestiveness.
But the true secret weapon is Marty Feldman as Igor (that’s “Eye-gor,” thank you very much). His eyes alone deliver more comedy than most scripts, and his timing is impeccable. Every quip lands perfectly, every reaction feels spontaneous, and he somehow makes every scene a little weirder—in the best way possible.
Brooks packs the movie with so many double entendres and clever nods to classic horror that you could watch it twice and still miss half the jokes (though you’d catch all the moans). The pacing is sharp, the humor timeless, and the whole thing plays like a love letter to both monster movies and the ridiculousness of human nature.
In the end, Young Frankenstein isn’t just a parody—it’s a masterpiece of controlled chaos. It’s alive, it’s hilarious, and it proves once and for all that comedy really is an exact science.