The world of comedy is at a crossroads, and the stories behind legendary figures like Mel Brooks reveal a deeper truth about Hollywood's current struggles—and what might be needed to revive studio-driven humor. But here's where it gets controversial: is Hollywood truly losing its ability to produce genuine comedy, or are we simply witnessing a transformation in how humor is consumed and created? Judd Apatow, renowned filmmaker and comedy enthusiast, recently shared his insights on these issues while discussing his newly released documentary about Mel Brooks, his thoughts on the state of the genre, and the significance of preserving comedy's cultural impact.
Apatow initially believed he understood Mel Brooks pretty well—until HBO approached him with the idea of making an in-depth documentary about the comedy legend. "I had seen other pieces about Mel, but I don't think I ever heard him speak honestly from his heart," Apatow recalls. "He often shared hilarious stories about show business, but he had never opened up about his experiences during World War II, his marriage, or his personal reflections on life and lessons learned. I thought that revealing Mel's genuine voice would make for a powerful documentary—if he was willing to participate."
And Mel Brooks was indeed open to the project. The documentary titled Mel Brooks: The 99-Year-Old Man!, directed by Apatow and Mike Bonfiglio, serves as a heartfelt, two-part exploration of Brooks' extraordinary life and career. The first part aired recently, with the concluding segment premiering on January 23. It features a roster of comedy giants, including Rob Reiner—who, tragically, and under heartbreaking circumstances, was murdered shortly after filming. Rob Reiner's perspective was especially poignant because his father, Carl Reiner, was one of Brooks' closest friends and collaborators, making his insights—though sadly cut short—particularly invaluable.
During a recent episode of The Hollywood Reporter podcast, Apatow discussed not only Brooks’ unique role in Hollywood history but also reflected on the current state of studio comedy, and even shared an amusing story about an unexpectedly successful film in South Korea.
So, when did your first encounter with Mel Brooks happen, considering he’s been creating comedy long before you were born?
Apatow explains he was born in 1967, and movies like Young Frankenstein and Blazing Saddles came out in 1974, at the height of Brooks’ explosion onto the scene—almost akin to a cultural phenomenon like Beyoncé today. He remembers seeing Blazing Saddles in theatres with his parents—probably at an pretty young age—and recalls the film receiving uproarious laughter from the audience. Though he didn't see Young Frankenstein in the theater, it was part of his family's initial VHS collection along with classics like The Godfather parts I and II, The Producers, and films from Woody Allen and Peter Sellers. These tapes, precious and costly at the time, were the primary sources of entertainment and comedy in his childhood. He recalls watching those movies repeatedly, admiring Brooks' unique blend of humor—“a strange, small Jewish man who was incredibly loud and could be the funniest person in the world.”
How do you reconcile the description of Brooks as a 'strange, small Jewish man' with the idea that he was the Beyoncé of comedy?
Apatow reflects that during that era, being on the cover of Time magazine was a cultural event that captured the nation’s full attention. Mel Brooks became a huge star alongside icons like Steve Martin and blockbuster franchises like Star Wars. Interestingly, Brooks reportedly took on Young Frankenstein partly out of concern over how Blazing Saddles would perform, fearing it might be too daring or controversial. Strikingly, both films came out in the same year—an astonishing feat—and those movies pushed boundaries in ways previously unseen, particularly Blazing Saddles, which used groundbreaking Nazi satire. Originally, The Producers struggled commercially and sparked mixed reviews due to its edgy content, especially its offensive parody of Nazis. Yet, the performance style was revolutionary, blending Broadway-like acting with film, which was quite unprecedented.
And yet, The Producers eventually won Brooks his first Oscar for Best Original Screenplay—delivering a major career boost, even beating 2001: A Space Odyssey.
In terms of Brooks' personality, Apatow describes him as occasionally guarded during interviews. He would carefully craft his anecdotes, sometimes sharing stories he knew had been told before or moments that revealed more about his personal struggles—like his childhood, the loss of his father at age two, or the depression he experienced in his career lows. Apatow aimed to gently direct Brooks toward revealing what lay beneath his humorous facade, seeking insights into his inner world and how his early hardships shaped his worldview.
A tragically poignant part of the documentary features Rob Reiner recounting his very first meeting with Mel Brooks—when Reiner was just four years old. Though that scene was filmed months in advance—before the heartbreaking news of Reiner’s and his wife Michelle Singer’s murders—Apatow confirms it was always included. Rob and Michelle embodied kindness, dedication, and a remarkable capacity to give back through their work—making their loss profoundly tragic. Their influence and personal warmth shine through, especially in the depiction of Reiner’s relationship with Brooks.
Rob Reiner’s relationship with his father, Carl Reiner—another legendary figure and close friend of Brooks—offered a fascinating glimpse into a rare and enduring friendship spanning more than seventy-five years. Rob describes Carl as a paternal figure to Mel—a sentiment echoed by Mel himself, who once joked off-camera, “He’s tall, kind, giving—my kind of father figure.” Despite Mel's loud, commanding presence, he deeply admired Carl’s kindness and humor. Interestingly, Mel once confided to Apatow that, “Can you imagine being as funny as me, but so kind that you let me take all the laughs?” This insight captures the complex layers of Brooks’ personality—his towering comedic talent paired with a surprisingly generous heart.
As a 99-year-old, Mel Brooks stands among the last of his generation—what makes his voice so vital is the perspective he offers on a rapidly changing entertainment landscape. In selecting interviewees like Barry Levinson, Mel’s children—including Max Brooks—and comedians like Dave Chappelle, Apatow sought voices that could contextualize Brooks’ influence and explore the current challenges. Critics and comedians alike, including Ben Stiller, Conan O’Brien, Adam Sandler, and Sarah Silverman, shared how Mel’s pioneering work inspired them and shaped their careers.
Apatow is also developing a documentary about Maria Bamford, a comedian renowned for her bold, unconventional style, which specifically addresses mental health issues. Shot over several years, the film aims to elevate Bamford’s voice and showcase her extraordinary talent. By integrating her routines into her biography, Apatow emphasizes her authenticity and independence from conventional stand-up formats—his mantra being to keep the portrayal raw, unfiltered, and true to her unique personality. “I financed it myself because I didn't want it to be made by committee,” he explains, underscoring his desire for an unvarnished, personal look at Bamford’s life.
Looking beyond comedy, Apatow expressed concern about the decline of theatrical releases and the impact on Hollywood’s ability to produce big, bold comedy films. The disappearance of DVD sales, once a crucial revenue stream, has shifted the industry’s focus. Streaming does not yet fully compensate for the lost income, prompting studios to favor safer bets—like horror films—over risky comedies that often underperform overseas. This has created a “doom loop” where fewer comedy movies are made, fewer new comedians find opportunities, and audiences become more accustomed to quick social media clips or streaming humor instead of theatrical comedy experiences.
Among Apatow’s own work, Bridesmaids proved surprisingly successful internationally—especially in South Korea, where it grossed around $20 million—showing that certain comedies can transcend cultural boundaries. Similarly, a smaller film he produced, Begin Again, about music and love, earned a significant $21.5 million in South Korea, highlighting unexpected global appeal.
Finally, Apatow teases a new project with Nikki Glaser, a comedian and childhood babysitter, whom he describes as incredibly funny. Despite joking about their initial apprehensions—“We had to stop her from watching the kids”—he envisions the project as a fresh, authentic story that will be crafted through intensive script work before going into production. His trust in her talent remains firm, and he’s confident this collaboration will yield something exceptional.
So, what do you think? Is Hollywood truly running out of steam creatively, or are we simply witnessing a shift in how comedy is produced and enjoyed? Do you agree with Apatow that the industry needs more investment in comedy to keep its cultural relevance alive? Or do you believe other forms of humor are more vital today? Leave your thoughts below—this debate is far from over.
