Mel Brooks Confessed The True Nature Of His 70-Year Friendship With Carl Reiner

Perhaps the most endearing thing about the interview, conducted in Reiner’s home, was that it showed just how close the two men are. Journalist Hadley Freeman noted how Reiner appeared weaker than Brooks, and his mind wasn’t quite as quick anymore. So Brooks lovingly prompted Reiner into telling anecdotes and was careful to explain things to him in ways he could understand.

In some way Brooks had almost taken on the role that a spouse would for their ailing partner. But both men were, rest assured, as hilarious as ever when they got into the swing of the interview. They were also still capable of making razor sharp observations about the nature of comedy – their life’s work.

When asked why so many comedians are Jewish, Brooks joked, “Well, back when we started there weren’t that many jobs for Jews. It was either the garment center, sports or comedy.” But then Reiner offered an insightful thought on the matter. He mused, “I think Jews were naturally funny because they were low on the totem pole, so they made fun of the people higher on the pole.”

In a way, this was a perfect reflection of how Brooks and Reiner’s relationship worked on-screen and on-record. Brooks was always the livewire funny guy – the motormouth who improvised gags like they were going out of fashion. But he needed Reiner, whose style was more reasoned and low-key, to balance him out. It worked gangbusters for them.

The two funnymen first met in 1950 while working on Your Show of Shows, a legendary sketch comedy variety show. Reiner told The Guardian, “I’ll never forget it. I came in one day and heard this guy say, ‘I’m a Jewish pirate. You know what they’re charging for sails these days? $33.72 a yard! I can’t afford to pillage anymore!’”

Reiner had heard a character Brooks was working on for a sketch, and the two men instantly connected. Reiner revealed, “I thought, who is this guy? This guy is the funniest single human being on the planet.” At this, Brooks chimed in with, “Oh, come on. Maybe the third.” Brilliant.

Over the years, Brooks and Reiner would continually return to their most beloved creation: the 2,000 Year Old Man. This was a sketch in which Reiner played a nameless interviewer tasked with speaking to Brooks, a man who claimed to have been alive for 2,000 years. It led to five comedy albums, an animated special, as well as appearances on Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan’s shows.

In 2009 the duo told The New York Times about the inception of the sketch, which started as a lark between friends. Reiner revealed, “It was to pep up a room. We started on Your Show of Shows, and sometimes there would be a lull. I always knew if I threw a question to Mel, he could come up with something.”

Brooks admitted that they never thought it would be seen or heard by anyone except their friends and colleagues. They performed the routine at parties but made sure to never prepare what they were going to say. Brooks stated, “It was all ad-libbed, and nothing was ever talked about before we did it. We didn’t write anything; we didn’t think about anything.” 

Reiner revealed that the initial idea came after he watched a show featuring a man claiming to have been in Joseph Stalin’s toilet. And he heard him say, “I’m going to blow up the world.” Reiner believed this was a great idea for a sketch, but no one in the Your Show of Shows writers’ room liked it. So he roped Brooks into the fun.

The taller of the two comedians told The New York Times, “I turned to Mel, and I said, ‘Here’s a man who was actually seen at the crucifixion 2,000 years ago,’ and his first words were, ‘Oh boy,’” laughed Reiner. “We all fell over laughing. I said, ‘You knew Jesus?’ ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘Thin lad, wore sandals, long hair, walked around with 11 other guys. Always came into the store, never bought anything. Always asked for water.’”

Brooks’ talent for improvising on the spot was what gave the sketches their insane unpredictability. Of Brooks’ fierce comedic mind, Reiner said, “When he’s free, when he’s in panic, he’s perfect. I learned a long time ago that if you can corner a genius comedy brain in panic, you’re going to get something extraordinary because they fight – they don’t want to die.”

The importance of Reiner’s ability to play the straight man should never be underestimated, though. In 2009 Brooks told The A.V. Club, “Well, the straight guy is never given enough credit. For me, the heroes are the straight guys.” To Brooks, the structure, support, and drive of their sketches came from Reiner. He believed, “Carl is in that tradition; Carl is the genius of the piece.”

But although they collaborated on their sketches, when Reiner and Brooks both became Hollywood directors they mostly forged their own paths. For instance, Reiner was instrumental in turning Steve Martin from an offbeat, concept-based stand-up comedian into a major movie star. He directed early Martin classics The Jerk, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid and The Man With Two Brains.

Brooks also contributed greatly to the lineage of cinematic comedy by becoming the undisputed king of movie spoofs. He was actually one of Hollywood’s most bankable directors in the 1970s, when he delivered a string of hits including Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein and High Anxiety. And he continued to work well into the 1990s with the likes of Spaceballs and Robin Hood: Men in Tights.

Then there was the 1967 film The Producers, which was quite an experience for Brooks. That tale of two wheeler-dealer musical producers who scheme to get rich was eventually turned into a Broadway musical in 2001. It swept the board at the Tony Awards and, in 2005, another film version was made, this time with the stars of the musical - Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. 

Reiner and Brooks seemed perfectly happy to focus their time on their friendship, rather than any on-screen projects. This wonderful bond even wound up extending to their spouses. Reiner joked to The New York Times that the key to their friendship was that their wives liked each other too, and Brooks responded, “We were all just in perfect harmony.”

“The best thing Mel ever did was marry a girl named Anne Bancroft,” Reiner told The Guardian, to which his best friend happily replied, “Yeah, I did.” And, yes, we do mean that Anne Bancroft – the Academy Award-winning Hollywood legend and star of The Graduate. According to Brooks, who had already been divorced once when he met Bancroft, it was love at first sight for him.

On February 5, 1961 Brooks went to watch a TV taping of a Perry Como special and saw Bancroft rehearsing. He said that he immediately blurted out, “Anne Bancroft, I love you!” but she couldn’t see who was yelling at her from the stage. He added, “I’m Mel Brooks!” to which Bancroft said, “I got your record!” And the rest, as they say, was history.

Bancroft was Brooks’ soul mate, you see. He told The Guardian, “We started hanging out every day and every night – we couldn’t be without each other. We were made for each other.” When she passed from cancer in 2005, it hit Brooks hard. He even became housebound for a period after a hernia operation – not from physical pain, but because he simply couldn’t face going out.

“I was stuck at home – emotionally, I mean,” admitted Brooks. “I was afraid to go out. But then I pushed forward because that’s what you have to do, and I went out.” And wouldn’t you know it, he travelled to Reiner’s house – a place he’d driven to for decades. Brooks smiled and quipped, “Eating with this guy? You can’t beat it.”

Reiner, who lost his wife Estelle in 2008, kept her memory alive in the countless photographs and paintings that adorn the walls in their home. He pointed out a piece to The Guardian’s Freeman and said, “That painting there? She did that. My wife was a very fine artist.” Brooks then chimed in with, “And she was a terrific jazz singer. She taught Anne how to play the ukulele.”

While Estelle wasn’t a professional actress, she did find her way into some of her husband and his best friend’s projects. She appeared in The Man With Two Brains, which Reiner directed, and To Be Or Not To Be, which Brooks helmed. But, incredibly, her most famous role came in a picture directed by her and Reiner’s son, Rob.

Yes, Hollywood is truly the family business for the Reiners. Rob, whom Brooks still refers to as “Robbie,” starred in All in the Family as a child actor, but then grew up to become one of Tinseltown’s most sought-after directors. His resume includes The Princess Bride, Stand By Me and A Few Good Men. 

In 1989 he released one of his biggest hits – When Harry Met Sally… – and gave his mother a plum role. During the famous Katz’s Delicatessen scene in which Meg Ryan’s Sally shows Billy Crystal’s Harry how easy it is for a woman to fake excitement, Estelle delivered the punchline, “I’ll have what she’s having.” Amazing.

The true nature of Reiner and Brooks’ relationship is that, even after their wives died, they simply kept on spending as much time together as possible. Even well into their 90s, the two men were still by each other’s sides every evening in Reiner’s Beverly Hills home. Doing what, you may ask? Why, eating dinner and watching Jeopardy, of course!

“This is a great place because I got friendship, love and free food,” joked Brooks to The Guardian. “Free eats are very important, you know.” Brooks in fact told Freeman that he had been regularly coming to Reiner’s house for 60 years. It was a simple matter of taking a leisurely few minutes’ drive from Santa Monica to the Hills.

Like their friendship, which didn’t change one iota in 70 years, their evening routine always remained the same. They chatted about life, love, work, and everything in-between, and then ate their dinner in front of Reiner’s enormous television. It was a simple routine, for sure, but one that the two men always loved.

As well as Jeopardy, Brooks and Reiner had another thing they always made sure to watch together: action movies. In 2009 Reiner told The New York Times, “We look for movies with the line, ‘Secure the perimeter.’” A laughing Brooks then added, “Yeah, we like movies that say, ‘Secure the perimeter’ and/or ‘You better get some rest.’” 

Their most recent watch at that time was action-thriller The Peacemaker. Despite starring Hollywood luminaries George Clooney and Nicole Kidman, Brooks’ verdict wasn’t exactly glowing. He said, “It was two and a half stars at most. Good performances, very silly, you know.” Yet Reiner, who worked with Clooney on the Ocean’s Eleven movies, kept his opinion to himself.

Brooks summed things up to The Guardian about the pair, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a better friend than Carl.” In response, Reiner admitted, “My God, the thought of being without him – the world would be too bleak!” It was a remarkably open and heartfelt tribute to a friendship that had survived longer than anyone could have predicted.

Reiner would sadly follow his wife into the great beyond on June 29, 2020. The following day saw Max, Brooks’ son and author of World War Z, appear on a Moment magazine webinar. He spoke about how his father was handling losing his best friend of 70 years. He began, “They became friends in 1950, so their friendship is old enough to collect Social Security.”

Max admitted that his father was in deep shock. If anything, the two men had grown even closer over the course of the pandemic, as they continued to spend time together during quarantine. “Carl was his only means of escape,” said Max. “The two of them would watch Rachel Maddow and yell at each other over the remote.” 

It was then revealed that Brooks had actually been there when Reiner passed away in the early hours of the morning – because of their movie routine. But he didn’t phone Max instantly because he didn’t want to wake Reiner’s son up. So Brooks being by his friend’s side at the end was bittersweet, yet also somehow fitting.

All in all, Max reckoned Reiner’s death was “expected, but unbelievable.” He mused, “No more Carl? How do you reconcile no more Carl? It’s like you wake up in the morning and the sun never comes up.” Brooks then followed up his son’s words with a heartfelt statement posted to social media.

“Carl was a giant, unmatched in his contributions to entertainment,” wrote Brooks. “I met him in 1950 when he joined Sid Caesar on Your Show of Shows, and we’ve been best friends ever since. I loved him.” He added, “So whether he wrote or performed or he was just your best friend – nobody could do it better. He’ll be greatly missed.”

Tributes also poured in from all over Hollywood. Robbie Reiner tweeted, “Last night my dad passed away. As I write this my heart is hurting. He was my guiding light.” Clooney wrote, “Carl Reiner made every room he walked into funnier, smarter, kinder. It all seemed so effortless. What an incredible gift he gave us all.”

Reiner’s longtime friend and co-star Betty White also spoke of her sadness over his passing. Of her Hot in Cleveland co-star, she told Hollywood Life, “I loved Carl dearly. It was a privilege working with him. He was always fun to be with, as he always had something funny in his head. I am heartbroken.”

So Reiner’s absence will be deeply felt, but there is at least some solace for his fans – Brooks’ memoir All About Me! releases in late 2021. It will reportedly contain entirely new anecdotes about his long life and career. And we wouldn’t be surprised to read poignant passages about him and Reiner eating dinner, enjoying each other’s company, and firing up the latest action movie. But what about before Brooks' Hollywood stardom? You may not know this, but he actually fought in one of WWII's deadliest battles. And what went down sounds like it's been pulled straight out of a novel — let alone a memoir.

As a young man, Brooks found himself at the heart of the WWII action in Germany. In fact, he even participated in that devastating battle, which began on December 16. Like many survivors, he would not share much about the darkest details of his experiences in his later life. He did do what his comic nature demanded, however – he sublimated tragedy with humor.

It was perhaps this humor that helped Brooks through the life-or-death job that he was given in the U.S. military. It was one that was beset with danger at every turn; indeed, it was so dangerous that it was sometimes left to prisoners of war (POWs). But Brooks later revealed that it wasn’t necessarily death that he was scared of while on the frontline.

In his biography of Brooks, It’s Good to Be the King, James Robert Parish provided a quote from the comedian, playing down his experiences. “War isn’t hell,” the funnyman had said, referencing the oft-repeated trope that likely originated with General William Sherman. “War is loud,” he continued. “Much too noisy. All those shells and bombs going off all around you. Never mind death. A man could lose his hearing.” Of course, Brooks was being modest.

Born into a Jewish family on June 28, 1926 in Brooklyn, New York, Brooks was the youngest of four brothers. His mother, Kate Kaminsky was from Kiev, Ukraine, then part of the Russian Empire. His father, Max, was from Gdansk, Poland, then known by its German name, Danzig. Sadly, kidney disease killed Max when he was just 34 years old and while Brooks was still an infant.

Growing up fatherless evidently had a big impact on Brooks. “There’s an outrage there,” he said in his show, Mel Brooks Live at the Geffen. “I may be angry at God or at the world for that. And I’m sure a lot of my comedy is based on anger and hostility. Growing up in Williamsburg, I learned to clothe it in comedy to spare myself problems – like a punch in the face.”

Indeed, as a child, Brooks endured frequent bullying, not least because of the fact that he was something of a runt. Undersized and prone to illness, the future-entertainer grew up in poverty with the odds stacked against him. However, when he was nine, he went to Anything Goes on Broadway with his uncle Joe. The experience was life-changing. It left him determined to pursue a career in show business.

At the age of 14, Brooks landed a gig as a poolside tummler, entertaining vacationers at a resort. Even as a teenager, his idiosyncratic style of humor was already developing. Speaking to Playboy magazine in 1975, he described how he had carried two rock-filled suitcases onto a diving board. “Business is terrible,” he declared to the guests. “I can’t go on!” He then leapt into the pool, still wearing an overcoat.

At the same time, Brooks earned money from music, having learned the drums from fellow-Williamsburg resident Buddy Rich. Then, at the age of 16, he landed his first gig in comedy. It was during these formative years that Brooks acquired his stage name to distinguish himself from trumpeter Max Kaminksy – who shared his name with the comedian’s father.

Ultimately donning the hats of writer, actor, composer and comedian, Brooks would go on to become a global sensation. Today, he is best known for his movies, which include a number of parodies and farces. Among the most loved are Blazing Saddles, Spaceballs and, of course, The Producers. Before all this success, however, Brooks was enlisted to fight in World War II.

Brooks was a 17-year-old graduate of Eastern District High School when he was called to service in 1944. He had intended to major in psychology at Brooklyn College, but, instead, he found himself conscripted into the military. He was then given an I.Q. exam, known as the Army General Classification Test.

The results of this test indicated that Brooks was of above average intelligence. He was hence dispatched to the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP), operated by the Virginia Military Institute. The curriculum there included foreign languages, engineering, horsemanship and medicine. However, things did not work out for Brooks on the elite course.

Brooks received just under three months of ASTP training before its bosses terminated the program. The main reason for the decision was a growing demand for combat troops. As such, in May 1944 Brooks was dispatched to Fort Sill in Oklahoma to be given basic military training. And later that year, he joined his fellow servicemen in Europe.

Of course, 1944 was a pivotal year for World War II. In January, the Soviet Union had triumphed in the siege of Leningrad. On June 6, also known as D-Day, Allied ground forces had stormed the beaches of Normandy and commenced the liberation of Western Europe. In August, the Germans were driven out of Paris; and then in September, Brussels and Antwerp were freed, followed by Boulogne and Calais. The war was now entering its closing phases as the Third Reich was gradually pushed back to Berlin.

Brooks initially served as an artillery spotter, also known as a forward observer (F.O.). His job was to direct heavy firepower towards its intended target. He was subsequently dispatched to the 1104th Engineer Combat Battalion of the 78th Infantry Division. There, he served with the rank of corporal.

“I was a combat engineer; isn’t that ridiculous?” his biographer, Parish, quoted Brooks as saying. “The two things I hate most in the world are combat and engineering. I was a little kid from Brooklyn getting his hair combed every morning by my mother, and suddenly I am doing 40-mile hikes and being expected to eat grass and trees.”

The 1104th had in fact arrived in Normandy on June 11, 1944. The battalion joined a broad Allied offensive that swept through France, Belgium and the Netherlands. Collectively, the Allies had begun to push the Germans back, before striking at the heart of their regime. Brooks’ unit, meanwhile, was responsible for strategic engineering works such as road clearing and bridge building. Looking back, though, Brooks was able to see the funny side of it.

Speaking to Newsweek in 1975, Brooks had some less than flattering words about his experiences. Indeed, as he saw it, there was nothing remotely glamorous about his service. “I was out in the combat engineers,” he said. “We would throw up bridges in advance of the infantry, but, mainly, we would just throw up.”

And there was every reason to lose your lunch. Because the 1104th regularly found itself working ahead of front lines, it became a target for enemy snipers and mortar cannons. On five occasions the battalion was engaged as an infantry unit, and it lost several men in the process. But Brooks’ job with the unit was in fact particularly risky. He was responsible for clearing land mines.

Despite his grim assignment, though, Brooks apparently kept his spirits up, deploying humor and mischievous antics wherever he could. Responding to German forces using loudspeakers to broadcast propaganda messages, Brooks reportedly assembled his own public announcement system. Then, in a riposte to their antisemitism, he blasted out music by Jewish singer Al Jolson.

Mostly, however, World War II was about survival. According to Military.com, Brooks once told his son, “[Instead of thinking about the future,] you thought about how you were going to stay warm that night, how you were going to get from one hedgerow to another without some German sniper taking you out. You didn’t worry about tomorrow.” There were also other things to worry about. And Brooks’ so-called “brothers in arms” weren’t always the kindest of people, either.

Though Brooks did not see any concentration camps, he did observe crowds of refugees fleeing the violence. As reported by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, he recalled, “They were starving. It was horrible.” And shockingly, Brooks was actually subjected to antisemitic abuse by some of his own fellow servicemen. Conflict can certainly bring out the worst in humanity – and the future comedian would see the horrors of war writ large.

Indeed, Brooks would go on to participate in the Battle of the Bulge: the historic German action that began on December 16, 1944. The operation would be their final offensive on the Western Front. It took place in the Ardennes, an area of thick forests that encompasses parts of Belgium, Luxembourg and France.

The aim of the counteroffensive was to thwart the Allies in accessing Antwerp and its port facilities. Furthermore, the action was intended to break up and disrupt Allied forces, enabling the Germans to surround and then eliminate several of the encroaching armies. Hitler believed that he would then be well-positioned to demand a favorable peace treaty. And it was a plan that certainly got off to a good start for the Germans.

The Germans were in fact able to launch a completely unexpected attack due to several Allied oversights. Firstly, thanks to some early successes after the D-Day landings, Allied leaders were rather lacking in caution. Secondly, they were so busy with plans for further attacks that they neglected their defensive positions. Finally, they might not have known it, but their aerial reconnaissance of the region was inadequate.

At 5:30 a.m. on December 16, 1944, the Germans began bombarding Allied lines. With Allied air forces grounded due to snowstorms, the assault was able to do significant damage. The bombardment lasted 90 minutes and saw the deployment of some 1,600 pieces of heavy weaponry. The Battle of the Bulge was now underway. And thousands of American soldiers would be dead before it was finished.

However, the Germans would also lose vast numbers of men as well as valuable armored units, which were effectively irreplaceable for them. Their progress on the ground, meanwhile, was stifled by firm resistance. Importantly, they were unable to access certain roads that were critical to their campaign. And with the Germans delayed and put at a disadvantage, the Allies were able to bolster their lines.

Then, on December 24, the British 21st Army Group halted the westward advance of the German offensive. With improvements in the weather, the Allies subsequently launched air strikes on the Germans, wiping out troops and disrupting supply lines. On January 25, 1945 the German offensive was finally defeated. The action had lasted one month, one week and two days.

The Germans had ultimately deployed some 450,000 troops as well as 1,500 assault guns and tanks. More than 1,000 Luftwaffe warplanes had also taken part. German casualties – including men who had been captured, wounded or killed, or were missing – numbered between 63,222 and 98,000. The Americans, meanwhile, deployed a force of 610,000 and suffered 89,000 casualties. The infamous “Bulge” is remembered as the second bloodiest battle in the whole history of the United States.

A little over three months after the battle ended, World War II came to a close. On April 20, Adolf Hitler retreated to his underground bunker, never to return to the surface alive. Hamburg and Nuremberg had already fallen to American and British forces. The Red Army had surrounded Berlin and was laying siege to it. All escape routes were now blocked. Knowing that there was no way out, Hitler committed suicide alongside his long-term mistress Eva Braun, who he had married in the days before.

The “Bulge” would later be the subject of several films, including the 1965 widescreen epic Battle of the Bulge. The movie starred Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson. The offensive also featured in Kurt Vonnegut’s anti-war novel Slaughterhouse-Five as well as in dozens of board games and computer games. And in 2001 it was the subject of two episodes of the series Band of Brothers.

Brooks never wrote or directed any films about the battle. But he did take a swipe at Hitler in his much-loved 1967 satire The Producers. The film – which was also Brooks’ first as director – won an Oscar for “Best Original Screenplay.” What’s more, it was also subsequently adapted for the stage as a musical.

The story concerns a sleazy Broadway producer, Max Bialystock (played by Zero Mostel), who was once admired but has now fallen from grace. His high-strung young accountant, meanwhile, is Leo Bloom (played by Gene Wilder). While cooking Bialystock’s books to cover up a $2,000 fraud, Bloom has an idea. He realizes that a failed Broadway production might actually net them more cash than a successful one. This is because investors won’t expect a return on a flop – and are hence unlikely to check their accounts.

So Bialystock and Bloom decide to stage a production that is sure to fail. They settle on a musical written by a man named Franz Liebkind; his piece is in fact called Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp with Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden. Having acquired the stage rights for the musical, the producers then sell shares in the production to a tune of 25,000 percent.

However, the play proves to be a huge success. And since Bialystock and Bloom have massively oversold shares, they are unable to pay back their investors. Real-life audiences, meanwhile, liked The Producers just as much as their fictional counterparts had enjoyed the stage show – and the movie ensured Brooks’ place in Hollywood history. And this proved a particular achievement as the Hollywood studios had originally shunned the film.

Brooks’ biographer, Parish, noted how the comedian had expressed his gratitude for the success of The Producers – in typically dry comic style. “I’m grateful to the army,” he reportedly said. “Grateful to Hitler, too. The Producers made me the first Jew in history to make a buck out of Hitler.” Clearly, the comedian had had the last laugh.

Brooks’ career thereafter continued with a string of cinematic successes in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s. But his role in World War II reminds us of the existential necessity for humor in the face of horror. To laugh at atrocity is neither to trivialize terror nor to put a brave face on unpalatable truths. In fact, beneath such humor is a rawness and vulnerability that reflects our most humane impulses – it connects us with our fellow humans.