When asked what should everyone know about women, Mel Brooks replied “Avoid the short ones – there’s a hidden anger in them, and you never know when the heck it’s going to come out.” He then goes on to make broad generalizations about all women of a certain height and their tendency toward anger and lack of talent bringing in examples of female comedians. It’s no secret that Mel Brooks like a lot of filmmakers in the early ‘50s had regressive opinions of women. I’m not interested in his opinions in his personal life: I’m more interested in how the objectification manifests itself in the characters that he writes and the projects that he directs. In his musicals, Brooks adds songs for characters that heighten specific moments. This act makes the objectification so much more dramatic and visible which makes it oh so much more interesting. In Young Frankenstein specifically, all of the female characters are only activated through their sexual relationship to a male character whereas seen or unseen. Every choice that they make is for either the benefit of a man or in hopes to get a man. They are activated through their sexuality and how these characters experience their sexuality is their only character trait and affects how they relate to the other women in the show.
Inga, Brooks’ go-to buxom, blonde bombshell character, is the most obvious example of this objectification phenomenon. Naturally, because she fulfills the famous ditzy, blonde stereotype, what else is the audience supposed to expect other than her objectification throughout the entire show. However, her objectification is very special because it isn’t stagnant in lens and perspective which tells the audience even more about Mel Brooks’ point of view. For example, Inga objectifies herself. When the group first arrives at the mansion, Frederick refers to the knobs on the door as “big knockers,” and Inga replies “Thank you, doctor.” In this brief throw away joke, Brooks reveals that he sees women that appear to fit into this stereotype as active participants in the male gaze. It could be argued that Inga is an example of a powerful woman in this instance because she allegedly owns her sexuality and uses it to get the job. However, Brooks negates this possibility earlier in the show with Inga’s introductory number “Roll in the Hay.” “Roll in the Hay” describes the way in which the gang will get to the mansion and is an obvious innuendo. Throughout the number, Inga seems to unwittingly put herself in several different erotic positions in which she asks a seemingly innocent question about her employment and Frederick responds with a less than subtle double entendre that seems to go right over Inga’s head. While some lines throughout the show try to paint Inga as a sexual woman that is aware of how she is affected by the male gaze and leans into it, the entirety of “Roll in the Hay” paints her a witless bimbo who has no real personality traits other than being buxom. Ultimately, I feel that Brooks’ Inga is a perfect example of how the filmmaker doesn’t actually understand his vision of how women fit into society. All he knows is that he wans to have sex with them.
Now Frau Blücher *horse whinnies* is a different story. We meet her as the gang meets her. She’s the lady of the house, and is clearly in charge. She’s presented as the spinster mistress of the house: Brooks teases us with the illusion that Frau Blücher is the only female character that isn’t just a walking sex object. Her sexlessness is a stark contrast to Inga’s walking pin up ad. Since the character speaks through the male gaze, Blücher *horse whinnies* immediately judges Inga by implying that she was a prostitute.
“She’s the Doctor’s new assistant.”
“Is that what they call it now?”
Despite the woman-on-woman crime, Brooks seems to present a strong-ish female character who isn’t driven by sex. Then, we get to “He Vas My Boyfriend.” Gurl…I don’t even have enough time to get into all that is wrong with this song, but let’s just say it completely negates any notion that Frau was a strong woman that wasn’t activated by sex. The lyrics paint the woman as a happily compliant victim of domestic abuse which is horrible of course, but for the sake of this essay, I’m most interested in how the content of the song solidifies sex as the absolute top of her priority list. I know what you’re thinking: “Dezi, you’re being dramatic; it’s a musical. Mel Brooks was just setting up her backstory.” And to that I say, “NO!” Every time Frau is presented with a decision, she sings a little reprise of “He Vas My Boyfriend.” Okay, maybe not every time, but it happens too many times to be a coincidence. These little reprises just cement the fact that everything Frau does is for the benefit of her dead boyfriend…who actually never really was her boyfriend because the lyrics of the song make it very clear that he does not love her. Everything she does (befriending Frederick, releasing the monster, etc.) are all for the benefit of the man with whom she was having sex. Even from the grave, the original Frankenstein had a claim on Frau because he was having sex with her.
Elizabeth Lavenza is my favorite character in the musical. She was originated by Megan Mulally, who I think is one of the most legendary comedic actresses I’ve ever seen. She belts her face off in three hilarious songs and gets the hell out of there. However, because she’s a female character in the show, I had to go deeper, and I was definitely afraid of what I would find. Welp, here we go. What do we know about Elizabeth when we first meet her? Not much. We can assume that she’s wealthy because of her dress and jewels. Quickly, we learn that she’s not having sex with Frederick which leads us into “Please Don’t Touch Me.” How interesting that the only thing that we know about the main character’s fiancee is that she won’t have sex with him. It’s almost like sex for the main character is the driving force throughout the entire musical and Elizabeth only exists to set up tension and conflict within the main character by witholding sex from him. Weird flex, Mel Brooks. Later, Elizaebeth comes to visit Frederick at the most inopportune time! Is it when he’s literally raising a corpse from the dead (what he swore he wasn’t going to do)? Of course not! Why would she care about that? She only exists to have sex, so she comes in and discovers that Frederick is having an affair with Inga! Would she be mad at her fiancee who broke his vow and should’ve remained faithful? Of course not, silly progressives! Inga gave Frederick the only thing that Elizabeth didn’t…sex…which was apparently the only thing he really wanted, so naturally, Elizabeth has to view Inga as a threat. The next time we see her is when Frederick is presenting the monster with Inga as his assistant. Elizabeth walks onstage and basically claims Frederick as her territory and calls Inga a trollop…because she’s definitely the problem…alright. Long story short, the monster ends up going crazy and kidnapping Elizabeth. Oh no! What is she to do? Her life is in danger! Well how does Inga prove her worth as a partner and earn a right to be a character that matters? Sex! So the only natural course of action for the play to follow would be to have Elizabeth have sex with the monster. Not once. Not twice. But 5 or 6 times. Please keep in mind that this monster has absolutely no grasp on the complexities of humanity. He doesn’t have inhibitions and acts entirely on animal instinct. Now, fully validated as a character and woman through the act of sex, Elizabeth is convinced that she is in love. In fact, she even sings an entire song describing how the Monster–WHO HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO UTTER A SINGLE WORD TO HER AND HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO DEMONSTRATE AN IOTA OF UNDERSTANDING–is the love that she has been missing for her entire life: a love that she describes as “Deep Love.” Get it. It’s a dick joke. One of many.
Mel Brooks’ personal opinion on the state and purpose of women in society bleeds through the female characters that he writes, and it is MUDDY. It’s obvious that he objectifies women, but it’s more than that. There seems to be a uselessness in virginity and abstinence. His characters only gain power and validation through the act of sex, but once they do start having sex, that becomes their only purpose and are essentially vehicles of sex for their partners dead or alive. It’s kinda scary when you break it down like that. Maybe I’ll just go back to listening to the catchy tunes?
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