At the beginning of Young Frankenstein, Dr. Frederick Frankenstein, the main character and grandson of the infamous Dr. Victor Frankenstein¹, corrects a student's pronunciation of his name. "Fron-kon-steen," he tells him. He does so because he is embarrassed of his ancestry, particularly of what he believes are his grandfather's hokey scientific claims of reanimating dead tissue. By pronouncing his name differently, he wishes to escape this familial connection. A little later another character, Igor, similarly corrects Frederick when he pronounces "Igor" in the traditional way: "Ee-gore." Igor, who has grotesque, bulbous eyes, tells him the correct pronunciation is "Eye-gore." This pronunciation accomplishes the exact opposite of what Frederick had tried to do with his own name. By pronouncing his name as "Eye-gore," Igor affirms his destiny as someone with drastically messed up eyeballs. These similar situations with opposite ramifications set the theme of Young Frankenstein. This is a movie about the rejection and acceptance of destiny, told in the wonderfully haunting style of classic 1930s science fiction and driven by superb acting. And it's hilarious.

Gene Wilder, as Victor Frankenstein's grandson, perfectly portrays a physician who is appalled by his heritage but is inevitably drawn to it. The eventual acceptance of the role as the one who will continue Victor's work is the pivotal point in the film, demonstrating the contentment resultant of succumbing to one's destiny. While this plays out, Wilder bookmarks the stages of his character's development with grand moments of emotional and sonic intensity that recreate the feel of James Whale's original film adaptation of Frankenstein, though the plot primarily parodies the third installment, Son of Frankenstein. These outbursts from Wilder are also used, at times, for comedic effect. In the actor's first scene, his emotion is hilariously transparent as his mounting frustration with a student who unremittingly interrogates him about his grandfather's work is more and more obvious. The scene culminates into an eruption that is simultaneously climactic in emotion and anticlimactic in language: "MY GRANDFATHER'S WORK WAS DOODOO!" Later in the film, at the point at which Frederick finally gives in fully to his destiny, he proudly proclaims his name in its true, original pronunciation, yelling, "MY NAME IS FRANKENSTEIN!" with authority and triumph. There are a number of forces that account for Young Frankenstein's greatness, but Wilder's performance is the crowning one of them all.

Peter Boyle is as perfect a funny monster as Boris Karloff was a frightening one. He actually has much less makeup than Karloff required, due to his naturally robust facial features and large build. He plays the monster's trademark primordial instability well, but he is also able to take the part to the comedic realm with ease. A simple pause followed by "WaaAAAAHHH!" when a blind hermit (played by Gene Hackman) accidentally sets the monster's thumb on fire is perfectly timed for hilarity, and the "Are you serious?" look he gives the camera when the same character unintentionally smashes to bits the mug of wine he just poured for the monster is pure gold. But that's not all. He is also able to make an abrupt change in the character believable. Near the end of the film, a scientific procedure endows him the ability to speak eloquently, and he gives a small speech that is actually moving:

As long as I can remember, people have hated me. They looked at my face and my body, and they ran away in horror. In my loneliness I decided that if I could not inspire love, which was my deepest hope, I would instead cause fear! I live because this poor half-crazed genius has given me life. He alone held an image of me as something beautiful. And then, when it would have been easy enough to stay out of danger, he used his own body as a guinea pig, to give me a calmer brain ... and a somewhat more sophisticated way of expressing myself.

These lines, some of which are taken almost directly from lines the monster speaks in Mary Shelley's novel, are delivered with utmost sincerity, not for laughs but for tears. Boyle uses his own, soft voice when speaking them, making them as innocent as they could ever be. In the novel, it is at times difficult to believe the monster speaks as eloquently as he eventually does. In this movie, the words plant themselves in you with verisimilitude. Boyle lives up to very high standards in the role of one of cinema's greatest monsters.

The rest of the supporting cast does a magnificent job as well, but the one that distinguishes himself from the rest is Marty Feldman in the role of Igor, Frankenstein's laboratory assistant. He looks as awkward as ever, thanks in no small part to his natural appearance. His deformed eyes, which never both look in the same direction and seem always about to pop out of his head, contribute mostly to this, along with his fake hunchback and a cowl that accentuates his facial features. Feldman knows precisely how to use his appearance for maximum comedic effect. Often, he is able to get a laugh simply by shooting the audience a quick, odd look (even if you can't tell whether he's really looking at you). Also, be sure to keep an eye on his dance-like moves when he's messing with the controls at the beginning of the transference" procedure near the end of the film. It's as if he's just having his own fun little time, not expecting anyone to see. Hilarious.

On par with the quality of acting in the film is the plot. Almost all of its developments contribute in some way to the destiny acceptance theme. Frederick Frankenstein is the most obvious example of this, fighting his life calling and eventually giving in. In succumbing to his destiny, Frederick does not suffer the same disastrous fate as his grandfather did with his experiments. That is because, unlike his grandfather, Frederick's allegiance is to science, not power. The monster he creates may have a violent temper, but it is not a killer. It generally has the same childlike manner that the original monster developed in Bride of Frankenstein. Both creatures were misunderstood for sure, but in the case of Victor's monster, the villagers misunderstood that it cannot ascertain the immorality of killing. Frederick's monster is misunderstood mostly because they just assume he will kill at some point. As to the scientists themselves, whereas his grandfather imposed his own fate, Frederick merely gives into his. In the end, the risk Frederick takes for the sake of his creation pays off for both his creation and himself. The ending is not tragic as Frankenstein's was, not just because this is a comedy, but because Frederick has far less for which to redeem himself. The ending, though different, is every bit as appropriate as that of its inspiration.

The monster's character also plays into the destiny theme. After being briefly jailed the monster is able to free himself, thanks to his naturally endowed strength (at least as "natural" as a reanimated conglomeration of dead body parts can be). Later, when he hears a song being played that has special sentimental value to him, he stops what he is doing and goes to it unquestioningly. As a result of him giving himself to his destiny in this way, he eventually is freed not only from the archetypal mob of angry villagers but from the prison of his own mental incapabilities.

Igor, too, fits the film's thematic structure, though in a slightly different way. Because Igor begins the film in full acceptance of his lot in life, he does not go through a change. Rather, he demonstrates complete happiness throughout. Nothing seems to upset or even bother this guy. When Frederick curses him, "Damn your eyes!", Igor smiles and responds, "Too late." Even when he thinks Frederick wants him to talk a certain way, he does so without a question, and when he realizes he was wrong, he happily says, "Suit yourself. I'm easy." The character is charming because he is so carefree about life and about what others think of him. It's a statement of how content one can be if he just accepts his fate, even if that fate (in this case, extremely awkward physical appearance) is not exactly glamorous.

Finally, what really makes Young Frankenstein a treat for lovers of movies like the original Frankenstein and its first sequel, the equally classic (if not more so) Bride of Frankenstein, is how true director Mel Brooks stays to its sources, even while poking fun at them. Young Frankenstein was directed with the level of care one takes when holding another's child (indeed, holding James Whale's cinematic brainchild is essentially what Brooks is doing by making this movie). As proof of how deeply he wanted to keep the style true to its inspiration, Brooks famously borrowed the original Frankenstein's laboratory props from film set designer Kenneth Strickfaden to use in this film. The rest of the movie also looks the same in just about every way. It was filmed in black and white, is played upon sets that look as 1930s-authentic as the lab equipment, uses mostly simple camera movements or none at all, as well as angles that exaggerate characters and add drama to scenes, and is pervaded wholly by a dark, cloudy, ominous atmosphere. Indeed it looks much more like one of those classic 1930s sci-fi movies than a modern day comedy.

The original Frankenstein was about a man reaching for the power of God and suffering the consequences. This one is about a man giving in to his fate and finding contentment. It is smart, funny, and, if you grew up watching movies like Frankenstein and Dracula (another movie that Young Frankenstein takes from, mostly in some of its early scenes) nostalgic. Young Frankenstein is a welcome entry not only into the sci-fi/comedy subgenre but into the Frankenstein mythology. This is Mel Brooks' greatest accomplishment.