Late last night, seduced into silliness by the winsome summer breezes that came flying up our hill, my bf and I settled down with the Mel Brooks pseudo-classic "Silent Movie."
It was Brooks' lame puns and over-the-top slapsick at its absolute farthest reaches, but there was something liberating about the silent format. Plus, watching Mel Brooks, Marty Feldman, and Dom DeLuise [Funn, Eggs and Bell] all together in scene after scene was enough to plaster a grin across my face. I couldn't look at the three of them with out smiling--much less watch them contort their faces into idiotic expressions and walk and skip in sync. Watching the three of them in knight costumes destroy Liza Minelli's lunch table and Anne Bancroft's night out made us realize how much of a debt Borat's Sacha Baron Cohen owes to that other jew, Mel Brooks.
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