(narrator) By now, everyone has a favorite line delivered by one of Leslie Nielsen’s
oblivious characters in his signature deadpan style.
(Dutch) “Who are you and how did you get in here?”
(Nielsen as Drebin) “I’m a locksmith.
And, I’m a locksmith”
(narrator) When you watch a Nielsen movie,
it’s a war of attrition.
If one joke fails, another immediately follows, and another, then another till eventually
your defenses are breached and you crack.
(Nielsen as Drebin) “You’re excited?
You should feel my nipples.”
(narrator) And once you give in, the laughter continues.
Nielsen gains the upper hand, and although you might find yourself asking,
“Why am I laughing at this ridiculousness?”
You can’t reason against the laughter.
It’s best you give in to the silly.
Once you do, it’s easier to appreciate that for Nielsen to come off that stupid, it requires
a good deal of intelligence.
To understand what made him special, it’s best to take a look at his unique background.
(music playing)
Leslie Nielsen was born in 1926 in Saskatchewan
Canada to European immigrants.
Nielsen’s father, a constable in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, was abusive.
Leslie took the first chance he could to leave the house, joining the Canadian Air Force
at 17 during World War II.
Fortunately, Nielsen never saw combat.
This might have been due to the fact that he was legally deaf, which might also explain
why Nielsen’s future aloof characters usually
exaggerated their attention while listening to others.
After the military, Nielsen worked as a disc jockey, but quickly moved on to acting in
theatre after receiving a scholarship to the prestigious
Neighborhood Playhouse School of Theatre.
After performing in summer theatres, narrating documentaries and commercials, and starring
in several dramatic television programs, Nielsen got his major breakthrough
with Michael Curtiz’s musical "The Vagabond King."
The film flopped, but it launched Nielsen’s dramatic film career as he followed-up with
a major role in the now classic science fiction picture Forbidden Planet.
Everything changed, when after a prolific career in film and television, comedy trio
Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker casted Nielsen in the supporting role of
Dr. Rumack in 1980’s Airplane!
(Striker) “Surely, you can’t be serious.”
(Nielsen as Rumack) “I am serious.
And, don’t call me Shirley.”
(narrator) Nielsen stole the show and established the persona that would define the second half
of his career.
Leslie’s Dr. Rumack is oblivious to the comedic chaos around him, never winking, never
aware of the jokes at hand.
Nielsen more or less replicates this character in police officer Frank Drebin when the team
behind Airplane! cast him in the TV series Police Squad!
Police Squad! was short lived, cancelling after six episodes, but it reached cult status
and widespread success when the show was adapted to film six years later in The Naked Gun:
From the Files of Police Squad!
Naked Gun, and the two sequels that follow, highlights Nielsen at his best.
Frank Drebin is peak Nielsen and maybe even film’s most celebrated deadpan character.
But how could Nielsen, the Canadian-born son of a constable who spent the majority of his
life in dramatic roles, become the poster child for some of Hollywood’s goofiest comedies?
The answer lies in Nielsen’s opening monologue of a Saturday Night Live episode from 1989.
(Nielsen) “Everybody thinks I’m a comedian, but that’s not quite true.”
“A comedian is someone who says funny things.”
“A comic is someone who says things funny.”
“I’m neither.
I’m someone who says unfunny things.
I say unfunny things in an unfunny way.”
(narrator) This pretty much sums up Nielsen’s career.
Regardless of whether it comes off serious or hilarious, Nielsen’s performance remains
the same.
Play acting out like a principal.
In fact, most of the appeal of Nielsen’s goofball persona erodes when he’s trying
to be funny.
Take 1995’s Dracula: Dead and Loving It.
In it, Mel Brooks’ direction of Nielsen is too heavy-handed.
Most of the gags with Nielsen fall flat because Nielsen’s Dracula is trying to be funny.
The true marvel of Nielsen is when he deconstructs modern cinematic conventions by directly playing
into them.
When Nielsen’s characters are as serious as the dramatic characters they satirize,
he not only brings attention to the ridiculousness of the scene he’s in, but also the silly
action tropes that dominate Hollywood.
(Nielsen as Drebin) “Maybe this will refresh your memory.”
(Dock Worker) “I don’t know, still kinda hazy” (Nielsen as Drebin) “How about this?”
(Dock Worker) “Yeah, I remember him.
I used to see him around. Why do you want to know?”
(Nielsen as Drebin) “I can’t tell you that.”
(Dock Worker) “Maybe this will help.”
(Nielsen as Drebin) “I really don’t think I should.” (Dock Worker) “Yeah, you still don’t think so?
(narrator) It’s true that cinema has a long tradition of deadpan actors, most notable
of which is The Great Stone Face himself, Buster Keaton, but what makes Nielsen unique
is not only his dual career, but his deconstruction of Hollywood filmmaking.
And unlike many of the stony faces before him, Nielsen’s comedy almost always relies
on dialogue.
[no sound]
In many ways, Nielsen does to dialogue what comedic greats like Keaton did to visual comedy.
Maybe this is why Roger Ebert called Leslie Nielsen “the Olivier of spoofs.”
With as much ease, the theatre trained Nielsen could perform a Shakespearean soliloquy that
could leave an audience in tears.
Whether they were tears of grief or laughter wouldn’t matter from the performance
--just the context.
(Nielsen as Rumack) “This woman has to be gotten to a hospital.”
(Stewardess) “A hospital?
What is it?”
(Nielsen as Rumack) “It’s a big building with patients, but that's not important right now.”
(narrator) American actress and singer, Virginia O’Brien also made use of the “deadpan”
style while singing during a theatre production of the film Meet The People.
Even though it’s said this was initially the product of Stage Fright, O’Brien, like
Nielsen, adapted this “technique” into some of her roles, bringing a unique comedic
form to her performances.