MEL BROOKS

Six Mel Brooks films in a row. One writer. Cue high anxiety

REGARDLESS OF THE health hazards of binging six films straight, I gratefully accept the challenge of mainlining a half-dozen Mel Brooks movies — because the world is going to hell and I need a laugh now more than ever. No checking the news for depressing headlines. No checking Twitter, the hell portal in my pocket. It’s just me, Mel B and a metric ton of M&MS. Bring it on.

9.20AM THE PRODUCERS

Such manic energy! This Mel-a-thon is going to be a breeze at this rate. Zero Mostel (sleazy) and Gene Wilder (hysterical, wet, in pain) execute one of the all-time great comedic set-ups: the creation of a Broadway flop in order to flim-flam investors. It’s fascinating to see Gene Wilder’s career in utero as Leo Bloom, a livewire wimp with a busted moral compass. Though it’s too early for singing stormtroopers, ‘Springtime For Hitler’ remains unbeatable. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the return of the real Nazis.

11:00AM BLAZING SADDLES

Gentlemen, rest your sphincters: I’ve never seen this 1974 comedy. I only know the fart-tastic campfire scene, so it was a delight to follow through (fnar) and discover such a fun-filled romp. Gleefully goofy and only fitfully offensive, Blazing Saddles’ silliness is a brave stance to take on America’s deep-seated racism — few modern comedies would dare mosey into this town, let alone knock down its walls. Here’s me thinking it was just about trumping. Trump. Nope. Not looking at Twitter.

12:45PM YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN

Wild, Wilder, wildest: the third Gene Wilder comedy of the day is also his most electric, channelling that bottomless exuberance like a lightning conductor. As Dr Frederick ‘Fronkensteen’, Wilder gives his most wild-eyed performance, bettered only by Marty Feldman’s bug-eyed hunchman, Igor. I don’t care how horrendous world events are: if you don’t laugh during ‘Puttin’ On The Ritz’, you are a lifeless corpse of stitched-together body parts.

2:40PM HIGH ANXIETY

This 1977 satire takes aim at the work of Alfred Hitchcock, but never feels more substantial than a series of send-ups. Some jokes work better than others (the angry bellboy delivering a rolled-up newspaper to Brooks in the shower with a shrill, stabbing motion: “Here! Here! Here!”) and there’s subtle humour to be found in the parodies of Hitch’s camerawork, like when Cloris Leachman and Harvey Korman obscure the roving lens beneath their glass coffee table with cups and saucers. Still, it plods in places.

4:30PM SPACEBALLS

I feared Spaceballs would have aged terribly but this 1987 spoof is still sharp as a tack, thanks to the timeless comedy of Rick Moranis, blissful as Dark Helmet. Yes, it’s juvenile, and yes, Star Wars was an easy target, but the jokes are delivered at ludicrous speed and even the broader gags generate a giggle (a bashful Brooks as the Yoda stand-in: “Please, don’t make a fuss: I’m just plain Yogurt!”). I yearn for the day Star Wars commentary was this good-natured, instead of toxic like... no. Must resist reality. I’m almost done.

6.10PM ROBIN HOOD: MEN IN TIGHTS

From genre parodies to director pastiches to singular spoofs, Brooks’ focus gets narrower with each movie. The diminishing returns culminate with this unnecessary piss-take of Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves — a movie some might say is ridiculous enough already. Cary Elwes is his usual charming self, but the cast is lacking in character — my kingdom for a Wilder, a Moranis, a Candy, a Madeline Kahn. Maybe I’m all chuckled out, because halfway through I hop online to read some Brexit updates for a laugh.

THE PRODUCERS IS OUT NOW ON BLU-RAY