It’s funny. Because Mel Brooks, a long time ago we connected in a way that nobody expected. We were really friends.
Which era?
At the end of the ’70s. I would walk into his offices unannounced. He would be with three or four attorneys having a discussion and I would just nod to him and sit down at the same table and disappear ten minutes later. [Giggles.] And there was a strange moment. I told Mel, “Mel, you know what, I have seen an extraordinary film. Something you must see. You must see. It’s only at midnight screenings at the Nuart Theater. And it’s a film by — I don’t know his name, I think it’s Lynch. And he made a film Eraserhead and you must see the film.” And Mel keeps grinning and grinning and lets me talk about the movie and he says, “Yes, his name is really David Lynch, do you like to meet him?” I said, “In principle, yes.” He says, “Come with me,” and two doors down the corridor is David Lynch in pre-production on The Elephant Man! Which Mel Brooks produced! And the bastard sits there and lets me talk and talk and talk and grins and chuckles. And I had no idea [and kept thinking], Why does he chuckle all the time when I talk about the film? But that was how I love Mel Brooks.
At the end of the ’70s. I would walk into his offices unannounced. He would be with three or four attorneys having a discussion and I would just nod to him and sit down at the same table and disappear ten minutes later. [Giggles.] And there was a strange moment. I told Mel, “Mel, you know what, I have seen an extraordinary film. Something you must see. You must see. It’s only at midnight screenings at the Nuart Theater. And it’s a film by — I don’t know his name, I think it’s Lynch. And he made a film Eraserhead and you must see the film.” And Mel keeps grinning and grinning and lets me talk about the movie and he says, “Yes, his name is really David Lynch, do you like to meet him?” I said, “In principle, yes.” He says, “Come with me,” and two doors down the corridor is David Lynch in pre-production on The Elephant Man! Which Mel Brooks produced! And the bastard sits there and lets me talk and talk and talk and grins and chuckles. And I had no idea [and kept thinking], Why does he chuckle all the time when I talk about the film? But that was how I love Mel Brooks.
- og om barndom og faderfarvær:
The perspective with some of these older films seems to be
rooted in the psychology associated with the traumautized generation of
post-war Germany.No, no, no, no, no. Number one, when you look
at my films they don’t look like post–World War II German movies. And
there is no psychology. It’s more like King Ludwig II, the mad king of
Bavaria who built dream castles. And everybody immediately believes
childhood in postwar Germany was traumatic. My peers who lived in the
city grew up in ruins and they had the greatest time in their lives.
They all had the most wonderful childhoods. And I, growing up in the
countryside, very remotely, I had the greatest childhood you can ever
find.
Is it true you were a ski jumper?Yes, well, that was
an aspiration that was stopped very quickly, but we had complete freedom
because there was no fathers around to tell us what to do and how to do
things. And we had weapons, and we handled explosives. [Smiles.]
That’s a sunnier interpretation of your childhood than what I’ve heard from you before.No, it’s not sunny. It’s not an interpretation. It was wonderful. It was great.
On the commentary track to Nosferatu, though, you
talked about how the movie was an homage to your grandfather’s
generation, because you are from a fatherless generation.Thanks,
god. Thanks, god. What a blessing! What a blessing that there was not a
Nazi as a father around telling me what to do and how to conquer
Russia! And how to be a racist! Thanks, god! I thank god on my knees
every day.
