Review of Spaceballs (1987) by David C — 11 Jan 2015

In parodying the "Star Wars" movies, Mel Brooks was taking on something fresh and in the mainstream. His "Young Frankenstein" had appeared decades after the era of big studio monster movies, though TV reruns had kept them lingering in the popular consciousness. Westerns are an eternal American art form, but "Blazing Saddles" had come out at the tail end of their heyday. Brooks's love of old standards lay behind "High Anxiety," "To Be or Not to Be," and of course "Silent Movie." Later, "Robin Hood: Men in Tights" would take its title and supporting characters from a contemporary Kevin Costner film, but would be in even closer dialogue with a 1938 Errol Flynn classic.

"Spaceballs" is unusual, then, in its relative timeliness. The first "Star Wars" movie was already ten years old, but the last (or what should have been the last) was barely four, and they were becoming ingrained in mass culture like few other works of fiction before or since. Brooks got in virtually on the ground floor, and his parody became a classic along with its source material. Because the subject matter was so new and so well-known, Brooks could be highly specific without going over people's heads. Laughs of recognition are therefore loud and frequent. The references derive from all three Star Wars films: we get the munchkin-like Jawas of Tattooine, the little green wise man Yogurt, and a gloopy Pizza the Hutt. As a bonus, the sci-fi setting creates chances for funny if more dated "Star Trek," "Alien," and "Planet of the Apes" gags.

But with Brooks, pop culture references are only part of the formula. He is also a master of that oft-reviled, broader and older form of humor: the pun. Do the ones in "Spaceballs" work? Yep. "She doesn't look Druish" is a classic, but my favorites are the ones that lead into sight gags, like jamming the radar and combing the desert. There are also a lot of jokes that are barely jokes at all, just silly diversions, like Dick van Patten in a Renaissance wig gasping for air. Simple, but good for a grin. Rounding out Brook's bag of tricks are the crotch shots and dick jokes, well-sold by Rick Moranis and prolific TV character actor George Wyner. Shock humor queen Joan Rivers, though, who provides voice work, is unfortunately underused in that department. The movie is not nearly as scatological, profane, or racially- and sexually-charged as "Blazing Saddles," but it does enough in those areas to satisfy fans of both the lowbrow and the irreverent.

A well-observed send-up of a modern classic, "Spaceballs" ranks as one of Brooks's best spoofs.