There came a point when Mel Brooks, who has always been a beloved comedy icon for well over half a century, seemed to finally reach the point where his work was not at the same level as it used to be – this is often the case with artists who are more inclined towards comedy, and while he is undeniably a genius, his slight stubbornness to try new techniques or styles proved to be the reason his directorial career is viewed as a pale imitation of the work he did during his peak. He will always have defenders (and considering I wrote positive pieces on both Life Stinks and Dracula: Dead and Loving It, I am a proud Brooks aficionado, even when he isn’t operating at the peak of his abilities), but no one will ever be able to put forward a convincing argument to these final films being of anywhere close to the merit of the ones he made earlier in his career. One of the more peculiar aspects of this decline in quality is how sudden it was – there wasn’t a gradual descent into poorer quality, but rather an immediate and almost unnerving switch between the brilliance of History of the World Part I (the final of Brooks’ films that is universally considered excellent) and the less-than-ideal quirks of Spaceballs, in which the director sets out to parody perhaps the most successful film franchise in history, and understandably ends up with diminishing results, which is unsurprising considering the risk that was taken when making this film, and the fact that Brooks, as cherished of a figure as he may be, was prone to laziness from time to time, with this being perhaps the most pointed evidence of his tendency to rest too heavily on his laurels when working with material that is not stimulating or daring, but rather deeply conventional in a way that would never allow him to overcome the various challenges associated with this kind of comedy.

A good spoof film needs to understand both its subject and have genuine fondness for the audience – and in terms of the latter, Brooks has always delivered, crafting these films not for his vanity or desire to see if they can be done, but rather to give audiences something entertaining, which is an admirable pursuit, but one that only tends to amass meaning once the first criterion is met, which is not necessarily the case with Spaceballs, a film with a decent concept that falls apart when it comes to putting these ideas into practice. It’s not a film that is always aware of its shortcomings, and it sometimes seems as if Brooks is simply trying to take on as many ideas as he can, parodying the entire science fiction genre as a whole without actually adding anything particularly meaningful. We step away from this film never truly having been fulfilled – it has its moments of genuinely funny humour, and there is undoubtedly an atmosphere of hilarious tension that does hearken back to the glory days of the director’s earlier years, but they are enrobed in over-the-top hysterics and a story that never comes across as being all that cohesive, despite having an endless stream of works from which it could draw inspiration. Some of its ideas are certainly very good, and it never feels like a waste of time in the way that many later parodies that cited Brooks’ work as inspirations would be, but there is still an uncomfortable and disconcerting atmosphere that prevents Spaceballs from ever being more than the total sum of its parts, which are sadly not that common and certainly far from impressive, one of the many disappointing aspects of a film that strives to be entertaining, but can barely muster being anything more than mildly amusing most simply and straightforwardly imaginable.

Not to disparage an artist to whom I have the most sincere dedication, but Brooks directed this film as if he had never seen any of the films that he was parodying. We even begin to wonder how much of this story was conceived by Brooks, and to what extent Ronny Graham and Thomas Meehan (who co-wrote the screenplay) guided the creation of this narrative since Brooks is normally much sharper and more precise with his satires. One of the clearest signs that this is a deviation from what we have grown to expect from Brooks is the very simple fact that Spaceballs depends entirely on references, which is something that the director was never intent on foregrounding as the foundation of his humour – all of his films had clever references to existing works, but Spaceballs is the first in which the sources were extremely obvious, almost to the point where it loses its sense of originality. Rather than being a satire of the science fiction genre as a whole, the film chooses instead to string together several common cultural references, change around a few details such as name and purpose to the narrative, and submit these as jokes, which are not even funny, to begin with, let alone at the end of a very long 90 minutes, by which time the novelty has not only worn off, it has become grating. This is not the Brooks we have come to appreciate or expect, which is why it feels so counterintuitive to his whip-smart, brilliant parodies that were able to depend on more than just referencing popular works to get their message across.

Unlike many spoof films, Spaceballs doesn’t even have the benefit of containing memorable performances, which is something that was touched on when we discussed Robin Hood: Men in Tights, namely the fact that Brooks stepped away from his usual coterie of collaborators and instead pursued major stars – and while we are sympathetic to his reasons for doing so (since these films would unfortunately not be made with recognizable actors in the cast), we do feel nostalgic for the era in which genuinely gifted comedic talents that had developed alongside Brooks were given the time they deserved – some of them were brought to this film, such as Dom DeLuise and Dick Van Patten, but they both have small, almost inconsequential roles that aren’t very meaningful outside of what they represent. Bill Pullman and Daphne Zuniga are cast as the romantic leads, and while the former has remained a formidable actor for decades, he’s about as far from the bundle of charisma that defined the actor who played the character on which Pullman was based, which is an immediate sign of a film that won’t live up to its premise. Conversely, Zuniga has barely made an impact in the subsequent years, being almost obscure, which is not surprising considering how uneven her performance in this film tended to be at times. The two major exceptions to the weaker cast come in the form of the always excellent comedic icons John Candy and Rick Moranis, both of which were banking on their popularity as two of the most adored comedic actors at the time – and they both delivered performances perhaps too good for the film in which they are appearing, which becomes an odd point of contention, making us wonder how much better Spaceballs may have been had these two not be relegated to supporting characters in a story that benefitted primarily from their work, almost to the point where they are the only aspects worth watching.

Spaceballs is undeniably a film with great ideas but a lacklustre execution, which is perilous for a spoof film, since, without a convincing sense of direction and a clear vision, it can fall apart extremely fast, losing whatever goodwill it amasses throughout, especially in the parts where it does show some sense of originality. It is mercifully not an absolute disaster, and it maintains a good level of humour and there is some genuinely brilliant work being done, it just often tends to emerge on the margins, rather than having much of a place within the film as a whole. It is certainly not enough for us to even conceive of dismissing Brooks or seeing him as someone without talent, but rather serves to be a rare blunder in an otherwise very strong career. Unfortunately, he didn’t find himself in a directorial upswing, since his subsequent films, while still containing a few improvements, were similar in how they exist as shadows of his previous work. There is still a vocal portion of the audience that has proclaimed Spaceballs as a masterpiece, and it is certainly difficult to argue with their infectious love for this film, but it still tends to centre around the fact that this is a film driven by silly humour more than anything smart, and while some may suggest Brooks’ films have always been more focused on the absurdity, looking at his more iconic films will show how there was method to the madness, and that even his most off-the-wall creations had their roots in something deeper, even if it was only to be the foundation for yet another series of hilarious jokes. Spaceballs is funny in some parts, and it does achieve what it set out to do – it just feels like a slightly pale imitation of what Brooks usually did, and its middling execution doesn’t do it any favours when it comes to maintaining our attention, which is perhaps the most disappointing aspect of a film that had this much potential, but not nearly enough self-awareness to be even marginally as successful as it could have been with slightly more work.