OPINION: Happy blazing birthdays to the incomparable Mel Brooks

Years ago, a friend of mine was attempting to write a play about taxi drivers. Like any writer worth their salt, his immediate instinct was to procrastinate under the guise of research. He went to a taxi rank outside a major London train station and began interviewing the drivers about their experiences. Somewhat predictably, he wanted to know who was the most famous passenger they’d ever had in the back of the cab.

One lucky man informed my friend he’d once had the pleasure of driving Mel Brooks to a swanky event in town at which he would be the keynote speaker. The driver told Brooks he was an enormous fan and only wished he could somehow see that speech. The comedian, in the back of the cab en route to the event, proceeded to perform the entire routine for an audience of one. The cabbie, in uncontrollable hysterics, just about managed to keep the car on the road.

Melvin Brooks (né Kaminsky) turns 98 today and that story perfectly highlights his unique genius. Has any comic ever been more “on” at all times? It sometimes feels almost like an addiction to entertaining. Show-business courses through the veins of the avuncular Brooks, one of only 19 people in history to win the EGOT (an Emmy, a Grammy, an Academy Award and a Tony). Not bad for a man most synonymous with fart jokes.

Brooks is, after all, a man of contradictions. The 2000-year-old man, perhaps the most overtly Jewish sketch character there has ever been, was a firm favourite of the Queen Mother (“the biggest shiksa there ever was” according to the comedian). The man responsible for the silliest and most raucous spoof films in cinema is also devoted to Russian literature and, in particular, the work of Nikolai Gogol. This is the director of those dumb comedies who still produced David Lynch’s The Elephant Man and responded this way to notes from studio executives:

“We are involved in a business venture. We screened the film for you, to bring you up to date as to the status of that venture. Do not misconstrue this as our soliciting the input of raging primitives.”

Like any great artist, Brooks has always attempted to experiment with the form. Bertolt Brecht would surely approve of his constant breaking of the fourth wall, be it the camera pulling back to reveal a Western theme being played by an orchestra in the middle of the desert or the Hitchcockian camera zooming slowly in on a building only to go slightly too far and smash the window.

Only he would cast Marcel Marceau and give him the only audible line of dialogue in a silent movie. Even when appearing on The One Show in his 90s, Brooks couldn’t help but break both the fourth wall and his hosts when they attempted to transition to a serious story and he commented, “What a crazy show this is.”

The Producers, Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein are three of the most beloved comedy movies in history and the latter was even used as a litmus test by my friend’s parents during his teenage years since they didn’t want him dating someone who didn’t laugh at Frau Blücher et al.

There will always be people, unfortunately, who don’t get the joke. When Brooks’ first film, The Producers, was released in 1968, the horrors of the Second World War were still fresh in the minds of many. One man, aggrieved by the frivolity of a film that sought to lampoon Nazism, confronted the director with the words, “I was in World War Two.” Brooks, without missing a beat, replied, “So was I, I didn’t see you there.”

This tiny man is the history of American popular entertainment made flesh. His Oscar was announced by Frank Sinatra, he befriended Cary Grant and he married Mrs. Robinson. Indeed, Anne Bancroft once summed up how little difference there was between the public and private Brooks when she said:

“We’re like any other couple; we’ve had our ups and downs. But every time I hear the key in the door I know the party’s about to start.”

Bancroft passed away in 2005 and, sooner rather than later, the party will surely have to come to an end. But today is a day for celebration since Mel Brooks is 98 and he might not reach 2000 but, given his work will never cease to make people laugh, he is immortal.

• Darren Richman is a journalist