Mel Brooks at...100!

I didn’t realize this until I read my pal Mark Evanier’s website yesterday, but on Sunday, Mel Brooks celebrated his 100th birthday.  I can’t let the moment pass on general principle, but also because I had the opportunity to meet the fellow twice.  One time was far more substantive than the other – though in neither case do I have much to offer.  But when celebrating someone’s 100th birthday, “not much” is nothing to ignore.

It all stems from several years when my folks took a vacation to a resort, Caneel Bay in the Virgin Islands.  And on two of the years, my dad was told about a threesome playing tennis looking for a fourth.  He joined them, and one of those three was Mel Brooks.  They became a bit friendly, under those limited conditions, and I recall my dad saying how Mel talked about just finishing making a movie in Yugoslavia -- which I later figured out was The Twelve Chairs -- and how he said one of the hurdles was jets flying overhead during a story that took place about 15 years after the Wright brothers' first flight.  Towards the end of that second year of tennis, my dad brought up how he had a son who’d just got his Masters degree in screenwriting from UCLA and lived in Los Angeles.  Mel gave him his office phone number and said I should give him a call. 

I didn’t call immediately, not wanting to be too pushy, but I also didn’t want the offer to be forgotten, so a few weeks later I called and was given an appointment to come by his office at the Twentieth Century-Fox Studio.

This is where the “not much” kicks in the first time.  I have since learned a lesson I pass along to others – that when you meet with someone “important,” take notes of it as soon as you get home so that you’ll have a record of it.  Otherwise, there’s a good chance you’ll forget it all.  I’ve followed my lesson since then – just not then.  So, I really don’t recall much of what we talked about.

 I do recall that Mel Brooks wasn’t cursory about it, fulfilling an annoying obligation, but gave me a lot of time.  Probably 45 minutes to an hour.  I also remember that he was very nice.  And also that he wasn’t “on,” being funny all the time.  Or at all.  In fact, he only made one joke – and I can’t even tell you what it was…although I do remember it was a quip about Winston Churchill.  It was just a good, very pleasant, professional conversation, From a world-class expert to an up-and-coming hopeful.  I also remember that he didn’t offer any assistance, nor did I expect any, though that was, of course, part of the “hopeful” concept.  He wasn’t preparing a new movie, so he wasn’t in need of any interns, and he didn’t offer the number of anyone to call – though, in fairness, I didn’t ask.  But all in all, it was a very enjoyable hour.  Of which I remember nothing more than this.

Three decades passed.  One day, I read about how Mel Brooks was preparing a musical based on his movie, The Producers, and it was going to be opening sometime early the next year in February, 2001.  I called my folks and said that whenever they saw an ad in the newspaper that The Producers would be opening, get three tickets immediately, and I’d make a trip into town.

Eventually, that newspaper ad appeared, they bought three tickets, and came into town for a visit.  And they certainly did heed my advice and jumped on getting tickets immediately, because we got three seats in about the eighth row for the second night – though it was the third performance because there was a matinee, which I recall because it’s part of the story.

The show was being done at the Cadillac Palace Theater in the Chicago Loop.  And rather than park somewhere for dinner and then drive to the theater and park again, there was a nice restaurant in the same building as the theater, so we got reservations there.

The restaurant was packed – with people who’d just seen the matinee and stuck around to have dinner, and those showing up for the evening performance.  (I remember a couple who my folks knew who’d just seen the matinee, and the guy was so enthusiastic about the musical that he offered to buy our tickets and see The Producers again!  He didn’t succeed with the offer.)

And that’s where Mel Brooks comes in.  Literally.  He was in the restaurant greeting people he knew who had come into town to see the show – and greeting anyone, whether he knew them or not.  The show had opened the night before to massively rave reviews, and he was on a massive high, wandering the room, soaking in the praise, offering his thanks, and chatting with anyone who caught his ear.

My dad was a fairly taciturn Midwesterner.  He was pretty outgoing in a social setting among friends, but outside of that he was a very low-key doctor.  But – he’d played tennis with Mel Brooks on two vacations and had been friendly with him…never mind that it was thirty years earlier.  And he was there to see Mel Brooks’ musical.  So, when Brooks came walking nearby, but dad (somewhat unexpectedly to me) began calling out, “Mel!...Mel!!...Mel!,” and finally caught his attention.

Mel Brooks came over, and my dad reminded him of their playing tennis together on those two trips.  And Brooks was very gracious and in absolutely great spirits, and said, “Oh, yes, yes.  I remember.  How are you?”  Now, I’m absolutely certain he had zero recollection of the tennis, though I’m also pretty sure he at least remembered vacationing a couple of times (at least) at Caneel Bay on St. Johns in the Virgin Island, on property owned by Laurence Rockefeller.  It was not the kind of place from all my folks had said at the time that was easily forgotten, especially when you go there on return trips.  So, there was likely a recognition that there was likely truth the story.  I didn’t say much, other than greeting him, but it was clear he wanted to get around the room to as many people as possible.  Deservedly so.

By the way, the musical was amazing.  Not “amazing” in the ways the reviews were when the show made it to Broadway.  And when people got to see the show with high anticipation.  When we saw The Producers, on its second night ever, we had absolutely no idea if the show would even be good, let alone great.  (We had avoided reading the reviews.)  Nor did most of the people in the theater.  It was a case of, well, here’s hoping it’s enjoyable…  So, the reaction was one of total discovery.  That’s what was amazing.

And those are my two Mel Brooks stories.  As I said, it’s pretty low on details.  But both occasions were memorable, for different reasons, and both gracious and personable.

And now, the 2,000 Year Old Man is 100.

I was trying to think about which of the near-countless videos of Mel Brooks I would post here to celebrate the occasion. And I realized it had to be the opening titles song that he wrote for The Twelve Chairs.  A truly wonderful song I dearly love, called "Hope for the Best, Expect the Worst."  The music and lyrics are by Mel Brooks, though the music is an adaptation of Brahms' Hungarian Dances #2.  I wrote about and posted the movie version here, and almost used that, with all the great visuals and full orchestration.  But far better today is the good fellow, closing out an Evening with Mel Brooks, singing the song himself.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9FRqE7eMJQ