Mel Brooks has never acted his age. That was evident from the start of the comedy legend’s decades-long career, when he famously portrayed a “2,000-year-old man” being interviewed by writing partner (and lifelong best friend) Carl Reiner.
Fast forward some 65 years, and Brooks is now celebrating his 100th birthday — a far cry from 2,000 but not bad for a scrawny Jewish kid from Brooklyn who, against all odds, fought the Nazis, married Anne Bancroft and transformed the landscape of American comedy.
Brooks’ wide-reaching cinematic influence cannot be overstated. His unique blend of slapstick humor and barbed social critique elevated “low-brow” comedy into an art form that has often been imitated but never duplicated.
I, like so many others, can fondly recall watching Brooks’ movies at an early age, which were some of my first encounters with “grown-up” comedy. I was probably (definitely!) too young to understand all the jokes at first, but that didn’t matter. There was something elemental about the construction of Brooks’ visual gags and comedic rhythm that transcended age and even language.
I may now struggle to remember sixth grade geometry, but I’ll never forget Marty Feldman’s “walk this way” gag in Young Frankenstein or the “comb the desert” bit in Spaceballs. Maybe that means my geometry teacher failed (what the hell is an isosceles triangle anyway?), but I think it just proves how much Brooks succeeded.
Simply put, Brooks taught me and millions of others a sense — a real sense — of humor. And it’s that sense, that innate appreciation of life’s absurdities, that has no doubt prolonged Brooks’ life and enriched all of ours.
So, in honor of Brooks becoming a centenarian, I’ve put together the following ranking of the legendary director’s best films, from funny to hilarious to pick-me-up-from-the-floor hysterical.
12. Dracula: Dead and Loving It (1995)
To be clear, Mel Brooks at his “worst” is still funnier than most comedy directors at their best. That’s the case with Dracula: Dead and Loving It, a delightfully dumb horror spoof that turns Bram Stoker’s classic story on its head for a bloody (and, at times, extremely bloody) good time.
Leslie Nielsen, fresh off his appearances as Lt. Frank Drebin in The Naked Gun trilogy, portrays the titular vampire with his signature brand of straight-faced buffoonery. Brooks himself appears as vampire hunter Professor Van Helsing, while long-time collaborator Harvey Korman steals several scenes as the enema-obsessed Dr. Seward. Even Anne Bancroft pops up for a memorable but all-too-brief cameo for what would turn out to be her husband’s final directorial outing.
Dracula: Dead and Loving It has its fair share of laugh-out-loud moments; however, the movie can’t help but feel like somewhat of a retread for Brooks, who had already skewered the horror genre much more effectively with Young Frankenstein (more on that later).
11. Life Stinks (1991)
In the 1970s and ‘80s, Mel Brooks made a name for himself as the king of parody films, spoofing everything from the Western to science fiction. Brooks was so synonymous with these kinds of movies, in fact, that it became difficult for him to be taken seriously with more dramatic material (he reportedly kept his producer credit hidden on David Lynch’s The Elephant Man so that audiences wouldn’t mistakenly assume it was a comedy). Still, Brooks did go out of his comfort zone as a director with Life Stinks, a socially conscious comedy that tackles corporate greed and homelessness with a surprisingly clear-eyed perspective.
Brooks, like he so often does in his films, both directs and stars. He plays Goddard Bolt, an ultra-rich businessman who accepts a bet to live among the homeless for a month. As he struggles to survive on the streets, he runs into an array of colorful characters, not least of which is Lesley Ann Warren’s eccentric and uncompromising bag lady, for whom Bolt develops romantic feelings.
Throughout the movie, we witness Bolt’s predictable but nevertheless touching transformation from corporate blowhard to man of the people. The result is a fascinating curio in Brooks’ career that doesn’t always deliver on laughs but does give us plenty of heart.
10. The Twelve Chairs (1970)
How do you top your first film when your first film was a masterpiece? To quote the opening song from The Twelve Chairs, you "hope for the best" and "expect the worst." Mel Brooks probably had this motto in mind when he was directing his sophomore effort, an adaptation of a 1928 Soviet novel that veers away from the controversy-courting shock value of The Producers.
The Twelve Chairs, instead, adopts a more understated tone, telling a picaresque tale about three roguish characters on the hunt for a hidden treasure sewn inside one of twelve dining chairs. Ron Moody, Frank Langella and Dom DeLuise (in his first of many Brooks collaborations) play the three men who traverse the Russian countryside in hopes of finding the chair in question. Along the way, Brooks also appears in a supporting role as Tikon, a boisterous boozehound prone to pratfalls.
By exploring themes of human nature, greed and honor among thieves, Brooks set out to do more than make us laugh with his second film. He set out to make us think. What more could you hope for (or expect) than that?
9. To Be or Not To Be (1983)
To Be or Not to Be isn't technically directed by Mel Brooks, but it’s still a Mel Brooks picture through and through. Besides producing the film, Brooks stars alongside his wife Anne Bancroft in what would be the one and only time the real-life couple appeared as romantic leads on screen.
A remake of the 1942 Ernst Lubitsch comedy of the same name, To Be or Not to Be is set during the outbreak of World War II in 1939. Brooks and Bancroft play Frederick and Anna Bronski, members of a Polish theatre troupe whose lives are irrevocably changed following the German invasion. Hoping to save their friends and mount an escape, the Bronskis join the Polish underground and carry out a plot to deceive the Nazis with some unconventional tactics inspired by their “acting abilities.”
Part comedy, part wartime drama, To Be or Not to Be is one of Brooks’ most emotionally grounded and, dare I say, serious movies. It’s also plenty funny, thanks to the sparkling chemistry between Brooks and Bancroft (who else could have made “Sweet Georgia Brown” sound so fun in Polish?).
8. Silent Movie (1976)
Nearly 50 years after “talking pictures” spelled the end of the silent era, Mel Brooks took one of the biggest gambles in his career with Silent Movie. The film, which is more of an experiment than a conventional comedy, contains no spoken dialogue (except for one hilariously timed line that I won’t spoil here) and instead relies heavily on visual gags to tell its story.
As for that story, it’s deliciously self-aware. Brooks stars as Mel Funn, a Hollywood director who pitches the idea of a silent picture to some studio bigwigs. The studio is reluctant at first but agrees to finance the film if Funn can recruit the biggest stars of the day. Along with his sidekicks Marty Eggs and Dom Bell (Brooks regulars Marty Feldman and Dom DeLuise), Funn goes star hunting.
With this plot, the movie is naturally filled with celebrity cameos, which today play like a time capsule of ‘70s-era icons. James Caan, Liza Minnelli, Paul Newman and Anne Bancroft are just some of the Hollywood heavyweights who pop in for a silent era-styled gag or two. Heck, Burt Reynolds even shows up for a shower! It all makes for a fun time at the movies that’s as much a throwback to the past as it is a love letter to comedy itself.
7. Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)
After Life Stinks failed to connect with audiences in the early ‘90s, Mel Brooks returned to more familiar territory with another spoof film. This time, he set his satirical sights on an age-old English legend and, in the process, made one of his most modern comedies.
Brooks, who was in his mid-60s when he directed Robin Hood: Men in Tights, takes a back seat as an actor, appearing only briefly in a memorable cameo as Rabbi Tuckman (a Jewish take on Friar Tuck). Cary Elwes assumes the mantle of Robin of Loxley, and the role fits him like a glove (it helps that he previously played a similarly dressed hero in The Princess Bride). The supporting cast is filled out by Brooks regulars like Dom DeLuise, but it's newcomer Dave Chappelle who all but steals the movie as Robin’s charismatic sidekick Ahchoo, son of Asneeze.
The plot more or less follows the main narrative beats of the Robin Hood legend, but Brooks elevates it by emphasizing every outlandish detail. Who else would think to write a musical number about manly men and their love of tights? Mel Brooks, that’s who.
6. High Anxiety (1977)
Alfred Hitchcock was called the “Master of Suspense” for a reason; his trademark style was so recognizable that his work could be considered a genre in and of itself. Who better, then, to spoof the “Master of Suspense” than the master of genre parody?
Marketed as a “tribute to Alfred Hitchcock by Mel Brooks,” High Anxiety is stuffed to the gills with references to Hitchcock’s films. For starters, Brooks plays a psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Richard Thorndyke (a nod to Cary Grant’s Roger Thornhill from North by Northwest). After arriving for work at the Psycho-Neurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous, he gets mixed up in a twisty tale of mistaken identity and murder. His many misadventures include outrunning a flock of pooping pigeons in the park (The Birds) and being attacked with a newspaper in the shower (Psycho). Oh, and he’s also suffering from an extreme case of something called “high anxiety” (Vertigo).
Along for the deliriously funny ride are some of Brooks’ favorite collaborators, including Harvey Korman and Iowa native Cloris Leachman. Madeline Kahn, in particular, shines as Victoria Brisbane, a cool but curiously hyperventilating platinum blonde in the Hitchcockian mold.
5. History of the World: Part I (1981)
Only Mel Brooks could make a movie called History of the World: Part I, have no plans of making a part two and get away with it. Structured as a series of sketches and subplots, the film is a ribald retelling of some of history’s most famous (and infamous) moments, all of it filtered through Brooks’ madcap comic mind.
Brooks plays several characters throughout the epoch-spanning comedy, including Moses (who clumsily breaks five of the original 15 Commandments) and an exasperated waiter at Jesus’ Last Supper. He also leads a Busby Berkeley-inspired musical number about the Spanish Inquisition (what a show!) and takes on dual roles as King Louis and his “piss boy” during the French Revolution.
Of course, Brooks isn’t alone in his comedic exploits. He’s joined by a sidesplitting ensemble cast that includes Madeline Kahn, Dom DeLuise, Cloris Leachman and Harvey Korman (not to mention Orson Welles as the film’s narrator). An exercise in epic parody, History of the World: Part I further cemented Brooks’ status as comedy royalty. And Brooks knew it too. As he so eloquently puts it as Louis XVI, “it’s good to be the king.”
4. Spaceballs (1987)
Mel Brooks is known for his rapid-fire jokes, but only one of his films can be said to operate at “ludicrous speed.” That film, of course, is Spaceballs, the beloved Star Wars spoof that introduced Brooks’ unique brand of comedy to a whole new generation of sci-fi fans.
Set in a galaxy “very, very, very, very far away,” the film stars Rick Moranis as the villainous Dark Helmet, a short-tempered (and short-statured) send-up of Darth Vader. He meets his match in Lone Starr, a Winnebago-flying pilot played by Bill Pullman, and Barf, a half-man, half-dog sidekick played by the ever-lovable John Candy. Brooks, meanwhile, pulls double duty as the incompetent President Skroob and the mystical Yogurt, a Yoda-inspired master of “the Schwartz” who also peddles merchandise for the movie.
Although most of Yogurt’s wares never materialized in real life (I’m still waiting on my Spaceballs-branded flamethrower and lunch box), his prediction of a Spaceballs sequel is now, finally, coming true. Called Spaceballs: The New One, the long-awaited second movie is set to come out in 2027, with Brooks reuniting with much of the original cast. If only they went with Yogurt’s original title of “Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money.”
3. The Producers (1968)
One of the most self-assured and fearless filmmaking debuts in history, The Producers marked the arrival of Mel Brooks as a daring, new comedic voice. The show business satire hinges on a seemingly simple premise: under the right circumstances, a producer could make more money with a flop than he could with a hit. The flop in question? Springtime for Hitler, an unconscionably offensive musical that’s destined to fail from the start.
Zero Mostel stars as Max Bialystock, the corpulent and conniving Broadway producer who hatches the scheme alongside an unassuming accountant by the name of Leo Bloom. Gene Wilder, in his first of three films with Brooks, plays Bloom as only he can, puncturing his character’s timid disposition with hilariously over-the-top fits of hysteria.
As Bialystock and Bloom carry out their plot, things don’t exactly go as planned, and the result is a movie that’s always funny, often outrageous and surprisingly sweet. As Brooks once put it, The Producers is about “two schnooks on Broadway.” But at its core, it’s about comedy’s extraordinary ability to take power back from the powerful.
2. Blazing Saddles (1974)
Many say that Blazing Saddles couldn’t be made today, but it’s a miracle that it was ever made at all. Mel Brooks’ riotous, anachronistic spoof of the Western genre is a searing takedown of racial prejudice that doesn’t sugarcoat its language, its situations or, above all, its humor.
Much of Blazing Saddles centers on the town of Rock Ridge, whose citizens are shocked to learn that their newly appointed sheriff is a Black man. Sheriff Bart, played by the effortlessly charming Cleavon Little, is forced to contend with the townspeople’s racism but makes a friend along the way in Jim, a hard-drinking gunslinger formerly known as the “Waco Kid.” Gene Wilder, back with Brooks after his star-making turn in The Producers, plays Jim with pitch-perfect comic timing, bringing both a world-weariness and mischievous spirit to the character.
Brooks himself appears as the territory’s libidinous governor, along with Harvey Korman as the sinister robber baron Hedley Lamarr (not the Hollywood actress Hedy Lamarr, as he’s quick to point out). Madeline Kahn also makes quite the impression as Lili Von Shtupp, an innuendo-loving saloon singer modeled after Marlene Dietrich. Under Brooks’ free-wheeling direction, the movie ventures into some truly crazy territory, from a flatulence-filled campfire to an extended chase sequence that completely obliterates the fourth wall. It’s all held aloft, though, by Little and Wilder, who create one of the most memorable on-screen friendships the Wild West has ever seen.
1. Young Frankenstein (1974)
It’s not a coincidence that Mel Brooks’ three best films are his three collaborations with Gene Wilder. Like Liv Ullman and Ingmar Bergman or Robert De Niro and Martin Scorsese, sometimes an actor and director simply bring out the best in each other. That was especially true with Young Frankenstein, Brooks’ hilarious and heartfelt homage to the Universal monster movies of the 1930s.
Shot in black and white to replicate the look of James Whales’ original Frankenstein films, the movie tells the story of Frederick Frankenstein, the grandson of the mad scientist who infamously reanimated the dead. Frederick (who insists that his last name is pronounced “Fronkensteen”) wants nothing to do with his family legacy but is eventually, inescapably drawn to his grandfather’s work.
Wilder, who conceived the original idea for the film and co-wrote the screenplay with Brooks, delivers what may be the greatest performance of his career as Frederick, finding the perfect balance between wit and wide-eyed, manic energy. The supporting cast, too, is possibly the best that Brooks ever assembled, with Marty Feldman as the hump-switching hunchback Igor, Cloris Leachman as the horse-frightening housekeeper Frau Blücher and, of course, Peter Boyle as the physically imposing, childlike Monster.
From Frederick's futile attempts to escape a revolving bookcase to the Monster’s howling rendition of “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” Young Frankenstein is filled with an abundance of iconic gags. And yet, what makes the film really stand the test of time is its ability to weave nonstop laughs into a wholly compelling story about self-acceptance. Together, Brooks and Wilder created a comedy masterpiece that merged pathos and humor in a way that wasn’t just brilliant; it was abnormal (or, should I say, “Abby Normal”).
