Young Frankenstein (1974)

dir Mel Brooks

Something really changed for me when I realized that Mel Brooks is just John Waters for heteros. Their sense humor is exactly the same: campy, loud, brash, dirty. Oh, Mel. Oh, John. Everything reminds me of him. The jokes about the brain being from “Abby Normal”? Hello? That’s basically a drag queen joke. The charades? Please. Gene Wilder is a stellar performer. That pretty face of his is so damn expressive. He’s fun.

But hey, I’m always going to side with the creature in any Frankenstein variation. We’re just too similar.

I’m not even talking about the parental wound or perpetual sense of being an outsider, I’m talking about that god awful dinner scene. Who among us hasn’t gone to smoke with a friend only to spill an entire bowl of soup in your lap and light your thumb on fire? That happened to me on a date in 2017. Wild stuff.

If you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to, why don’t you go where fashion sits?