Gene Wilder: The Suspense Is Terrible, I Hope It Will Last

               I am going to take a quick break from the series about my mother’s favorite movies because a few days ago, a member of my family passed away.  I never met this man face to face and he never personally knew me.  However he was a part of the family, whether he would have liked it or not.  Oh and to be more confusing, he was not just one man.  He was The Waco Kid, Dr. Frederick Frankenstein, and Sigurson Holmes all wrapped up in single man, the now late but forever great, Gene Wilder.

            Now I rarely get worked up about celebrity deaths.  Yes, I’m sad with some and apathetic with most passings, like the majority of us is but would never really admit.  For instance, yes when I heard about David Bowie’s death I was sad (no, not really, but play along with me), but it didn’t make me wear sackcloth and ashes, mourning his passing as if Beethoven himself were being planted.  But never mind, people can mourn whomever they would like, however they would like, that’s not the point of this post.

            So I think the last celebrity that truly made me feel bad when they passed away was John Candy.  His films were an entertainment staple in my household for years.  I cannot recall the amount of time I watched Armed and Dangerous or Who’s Harry Crumb? as a child.  His work on SCTV, especially as Johnny LaRue or mayor Tommy Shanks, was always a welcome sight in our home.  I think of all the wonderful work he could have done over the past 20 years and it just depresses me even more.  His talent was huge and the loss was great.

            Wilder’s death is along similar lines.  When I think of Wilder, I think of my parents.  I remember my mother laughing at Young Frankenstein or my father trying to catch his breath while watching Blazing Saddles.  (Yes, it was the farting scene.  It nailed him every single time.  I’d like to say that I’m more mature, but no, I just watched it today and I was laughing my arse off.)  Some of my fondest memories are of my folks thoroughly enjoying Gene Wilder on the screen.

No, this is not edited.  That is a yarmulked Han Solo in a movie with the top-billed Gene Wilder.

 I remember being perched on my uncle’s knee witnessing the wonder of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory and wondered what I would do with flavored wallpaper.  I cannot count the amount of hours my brother and I spent watching an edited version of The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother that was taped off of TV.  We knew the commercials by heart.  Wilder became a member of the family, the same as Groucho Marx, the Zucker Brothers, and Mel Brooks.  (We also adopted some Gentiles too, but they weren’t as funny.)

Feldman, Kahn, DeLuise, and now Wilder are all gone, but are all great in this.

Gene Wilder had a terrific sense of timing.  His ability to get to a towering rage was substantial; nobody could ever scream like Gene Wilder.  His writing was smart, his directing was sure, and his acting was terrific.  Look at Blazing Saddles.  I bet you never knew he was a last minute replacement for a different actor that was cast but couldn’t physically do the job.  Yeah, The Waco Kid was a eleventh hour substitute and Wilder not only knocked it out of the park but also had some amazing chemistry with Cleavon Little to boot. 

Pay attention to Wilder in The Producers and see how he manages to hold his own amidst the larger than life lunatics that populate that picture.  Focus on Wilder’s segment in Everything You Always Wanted to Know about Sex and notice that he is truly convincing in portraying a man that falls in love with a sheep.  (Seriously I am not giving him the due that he deserves for that movie.  If Woody Allen bothers you for some reason, just watch Wilder’s part, you won’t regret it.)  Watch him in Silver Streak or any of the movies that he did with Richard Pryor and see the love that those two had for each other.  Even if the movies themselves started to get progressively worse, Wilder and Pryor were always a delight.

See?  I wasn't kidding!  But please, please see it!

 

Gene Wilder of course was married to the wonderful comedienne Gilda Radner up to her own untimely death from ovarian cancer.  This took on greater import in my own life when my mother was diagnosed with this very same disease.  Although it eventually took her life as well, I was inspired by Wilder when I saw how supportive he was of Gilda throughout the entire ordeal.  His partnership in founding Gilda’s Club in giving those battling cancer a place to interact with others who are or were suffering from the disease is an incredible legacy.

Way back when in the dim dark past of 2003 or so, I wrote a screenplay.  Now, it is a turd, but a turd that at the time was a labor of love to evacuate.  In fact, I was so proud of this, I once contemplated showing it to my wife, but decided against it.  Yes, it is that good!  However, there was a scene in the script that if it was ever produced, I would have wanted Gene Wilder cast in it.  Unlike any other role in the damn thing, I wrote it with him in mind.  Not that he ever would have accepted doing it, even at that point in his life, but it was there and hasn’t been reedited since 2004, so you know it is good!

Only Wilder and Pryor could pull this scene off and make it the absolute gem that it is.

 

Another way that Wilder has left an imprint in my life was that I gave one of his character’s names to a child of mine.  My firstborn son’s middle name is Frederick, after Wilder’s character in Young Frankenstein.  And yes, I didn’t tell my wife until well after the birth certificate was printed where the idea for the name came from.  She just thought it sounded nice and then I had to go ahead and ruin it.

There are few of my entertainment inspirations that are still upright among the land of the living.  Most of my favorite film and television stars passed away long before I was even born, let alone a fan of their work.  But Wilder was different.  He became a member of our family.  He is sorely missed, but with his catalog of work available at my fingertips, he is not far away.  

Fare thee well, Dr. Frahnkensteen.