I was actually inspired to expand my weekly pop culture "sermons" to include films back in February. I posted the trailer to this film on Facebook on the night of the fiftieth anniversary of its initial release and said a few words about it. I guess you could say that it was my first, although unofficial, film "sermon." So this week, I want to make it official.
When the film was released on blu-ray disc to commemorate its fortieth anniversary, there was a sticker attached to the shrink wrap indicating that it was "the most offensive movie ever made." I respond to that with a resounding, REALLY? More offensive than Birth of a Nation? Yes, I get it--the film is still controversial after fifty years. There are words in the film (well... two words, anyway) that, by and large, you can't get away with saying at all these days. It is flagrantly politically incorrect. It is provocative. It is, to quote my father (whom I'll get to in a bit), "crude, rude, lewd, and socially unacceptable." It broke all sorts of taboos when it was released in 1974. And most people--critics and fans alike--agree it is still one of the funniest damn films ever made. Even the American Film Institute (AFI) placed it at #6 on their list of the Funniest American Movies.
Basic premise--it's 1874 and evil state attorney general Hedy Lamarr... I'm sorry, that's HEDLEY Lamarr (played by Harvey Korman) wants to take over the town of Rock Ridge because its value will skyrocket once the new railroad is completed. Since he and his henchmen, led by Taggart (played by western legend Slim Pickens), can't seem to terrorize the locals into leaving, Lamarr convinces Governor William J. Lepetomane (played by Mel Brooks, who also co-wrote and directed) to become the first governor to appoint a Black sheriff, figuring the locals will kill him quickly and possibly even leave. Much to the dismay of the denizens of Rock Ridge, Bart (played by Cleavon Little) arrives anyway and even though they might object to his race, he's at least keeping the bad guys at bay with the help of his newly appointed deputy Jim (played by the great Gene Wilder).
While this is Mel Brooks's send up of western movies, it tackles the subject of racism in such a way that it's hard not to see the inherent absurdity of racism as an institution. The racist characters in the film are all depicted as fools and buffoons. Or as Deputy Jim puts it, "You know... morons."
As I stated above, the film also broke a lot of taboos at the time. A notorious campfire scene became the first time we ever heard anyone break wind in a major motion picture. A horse gets punched in the face. And there are words--and not just racial slurs--that had never been uttered in a western before. Producer Michael Hertzberg told the story of meeting John Wayne in the Warner Brothers' commissary while they were shooting. Wayne asked him if it was true he was making a western where someone says, "Blow it out your ass." Hertzberg confirmed that it was true and asked Wayne if he would like to have a cameo in the movie. Wayne said that he could never appear in a film like that... but he would be first in line to see it.
Content aside, this film is an important one to me personally. Like so many of my favourite films, it was also a favourite of my father's, who introduced me to it. He was a big fan of inappropriate humour in general and Mel Brooks specifically. This was another of my cinematic addictions during my last months of college. I couldn't begin to recall how many times I watched it during the summer of 1996.
To mark the film's thirtieth anniversary in 2004, Warner Brothers released a special edition DVD. My mother was trying to get me to come home to get some of my stuff out of the house. She was even willing to come pick me up as I didn't have a car at that time. I told her that I was going to be doing my sixth straight day at work and would be dealing with a visit/dog and pony show with upper management. The only thing I wanted to do was go home and watch this DVD which was going to be released that day. But she was persistent, so I relented, but I told her we couldn't leave until after the movie was over (it's only an hour and a half--not too long). But I warned her that I knew all the dialogue and would recite it as I was watching it. I think she thought I was exaggerating. I get the impression that she was kind of frightened to discover that I even sang along with the musical numbers (all together now--"Throw out your hands, stick out your tush. Hands on your hips, give 'em a push. You'll be surprised, you're doing the French Mistake, Voilà!").
Around that same time, Dad was convinced to give a sermon in church about the apostle Paul. He talked about reading letters that his uncle had written home during World War II as well as a number of other things that I don't remember. At one point, he said, "What, you may ask, does all this have to do with Paul? Give me one more paragraph and I promise I'll tie it all together." Then, without warning, he added, "You'd do it for Randolph Scott." While I was highly amused by that statement (as were a few members of the congregation--most of them men Dad's age), I really wish he had warned me. I'm sure I could have gotten a group of us to sit in the back and give the proper response.
Today, I kind of get emotional when discussing this movie. In May of 2016, Dad was placed in home hospice. We put his hospital bed in the living room so that it would be easier for people to visit with him. One day, just because I thought he would enjoy it, I put this week's film in the DVD player. I sat in the chair next to his bed and we watched it together like we did when I was in my early twenties. As I sat watching it, lip syncing along, I would occasionally hear this low-pitched, hoarse noise coming from his bed. Given the fact that he could barely speak above a whisper at that point, it took me a moment to realize that what I was hearing was Dad laughing. Even though he was dying, he could still laugh at one of his favourite comedy films, which I found oddly comforting. He died that Saturday. It wound up being the last film we ever watched together.
A few months later, I was visiting Bloomington and thought I'd take in a movie. It's clear someone was missing Gene Wilder who had just died a couple of weeks prior. The theater was showing not only this week's film, but also Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Since I had just seen that one a couple of months earlier, I skipped it, but I did go to the other movie because I had never seen it on the big screen. I think it was also the first time I had watched it since Dad's passing and I have to say, I actually got choked up during the opening titles.
This Wednesday, to celebrate its fiftieth anniversary, I will be seeing it in a theater again. Actually, I've been looking forward to it all year. I've already warned my friend who's seeing it with me that I will be reciting all the dialogue (including musical numbers), and there's even a possibility I might tear up early on.
So this week, I'm giving my seal of approval to one of Mel Brooks's twin 1974 masterpieces (the other being Young Frankenstein). Co-starring Alex Karras, Burton Gilliam, David Huddelston, John Hillerman, Count Basie (in one of the greatest film cameos of all time), Dom DeLuise, and Madeline Kahn in her Oscar-nominated performance as Lili Von Shtüpp, I highly recommend one of the most outrageous films of all time, Blazing Saddles.
Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you. (After all, you'd do it for Randolph Scott.)
Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
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