The Pride Of Frankenstein

Tell us a little about growing up.
My father died when I was only 2?. I had three older brothers—my brother Irving was only 12, Lenny was 8 and Bernie was 6. There was no father, no income. Aunt Sadie threw some money into the house to keep us going, and my grandmother next door cooked and cleaned and helped out. But my mother raised four boys.

Did she work?
She worked at home—she never went out. My Aunt Sadie was a floor lady at a factory and she would bring home piecework. One time she brought rhinestones for my mother to set into little stars that would go on beaded gowns. I woke up—it must have been 2 in the morning—and I said, "We're rich! Look at all these diamonds!"

What musicals did you love as a kid?
The first one I ever saw I fell in love with: "Anything Goes" by Cole Porter, with one great song after another—"You're the Top," "All Through the Night." I was 10 and my Uncle Joe, who was a cabdriver, took me. He used to trade free rides to doormen, so a doorman got him tickets. It starred William Gaxton and Ethel Merman. I sat in the last seat in the last row of the balcony and she was still too loud—and there were no microphones back then.

So it was Merman's siren song that set your future career?
I got into the theater because I saw people in tuxedos. I was bowled over—I was a little kid. People went to the theater in the '30s and early '40s in evening clothes, black tie. In the '50s they came in suits and now they come in lederhosen and backpacks. But I loved that the theater was so swanky, like it's a champagne night. Most of the people in my neighborhood got jobs lifting things, putting things on trucks, sometimes driving the trucks. Half the people in my tenement ended up pushing clothes racks around all their lives. So I really feel blessed and privileged. The heaviest thing I carry around is a pencil. I still don't use a computer. I write everything out in longhand. If I see something printed, it's already sacrosanct. You can't touch it. But with a pencil with an eraser, you can reread it and erase it.

When you were writing this show, did you try to involve Gene Wilder?
No, he doesn't write musical comedies.

But he co-wrote the movie "Young Frankenstein," as well as starring in the film.
Yes, he actually found the screenplay. He was just taking the garbage out one morning and he found it on the ground—it was the script; it said YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN, and he brought it to me. Actually, he gave birth to the idea of Freddy Frankenstein being the grandson of Dr. Victor Frankenstein. He figured it out. We were making "Blazing Saddles" together when he told me. I said I've always loved those monster movies, and he had a nice little outline and some very good jokes. And he had a great idea that I kept on fighting him on. He wanted the doctor to show how complicated this creature was by having the monster sing and dance to Irving Berlin's "Puttin' on the Ritz." I said, "Gene, that's just a joke"—I mean, any reality would be torn to pieces. He said, "Let's try it." I said, "No, it can't be in the movie"—and it's in the movie because I kept thinking about it and laughing and I thought, "What the hell, let's tear it up." He was right.