The Mel Brooks masterpiece, “Young Frankenstein,” is turning 50 on Sunday. Like the monster of Mary Shelley’s 1818 novella, fans will remember it as a half-mad dream, the product of harvesting parts elsewhere. Yet this immortal creation elicits laughter, not horror. 

In 1999, Manhattan’s Clearview Chelsea screened “Young Frankenstein” for its 25th anniversary. The projectionist was having trouble and said any guest who found the film too blurry would get refunded. The poor quality of the gothic opening credits drew laughter from a packed crowd but few left their seats.

“This is a salute,” Mr. Brooks told the AP before the film debuted, “not a spoof.” He held “sacred … the horror movies of the 1930s.” That love is seen most often in the actors’ eyes. This extends even to those portraying a blind man, Gene Hackman, and a police inspector, Kenneth Mars, who sports a patch under his monocle.

When villagers raise concerns that Dr. Frankenstein is following in his grandfather’s footsteps, one old man speaks. It’s “all the more painful” for the elders, he says, because they “still have nightmares from five times before.” The line signals Mr. Brooks’s love for the story’s past. 

Rather than render “Young Frankenstein” dated, the black-and-white format adds to its timeless charm. Columbia Pictures wanted it shot in color, which had been standard for several years by 1974. When Mr. Brooks balked, the studio suggested filming in color and removing it in post.

Sensing a trick, Mr. Brooks took the project to 20th Century Fox, which increased his budget. Black-and-white was also preferred by a colleague of Mr. Brooks, Orson Welles. Color is “the enemy of the actor,” he told fellow director, Peter Bogdanovich, and makeup “makes it worse.”

The final result testifies to the wisdom of Mr. Brooks sticking to his vision. As the monster, Peter Boyle, looks no more intimidating in green than a suburban father dressed for Halloween. “Faces in color tend to look like meat,” Welles said, “veal, beef, baloney,” and so they did. 

The streak of white in the beehive hairdo of Elizabeth, Dr. Frankenstein’s fiancée, also loses its pop in color. But in two-tone, Madeline Kahn’s tribute to 1935’s “The Bride of Frankenstein” is somehow more vivid. What’s a contradiction on paper is fact on the screen. 

Mr. Brooks directed “Young Frankenstein” and co-wrote it with his frequent collaborator, Gene Wilder, who portrays Dr. Frederick Frankenstein. He’s the grandson of the original mad scientist, Dr. Victor von Frankenstein, “both famous and infamous” for his ghoulish experiments. 

The younger Dr. Frankenstein, a respected college lecturer, struggles to come to terms with his grandfather’s grim legacy. He insists that his name be pronounced “Fronk-en-steen,” an absurd and desperate attempt to shed generational baggage. 

Igor, Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant, is portrayed by another favorite of Mr. Brooks, Marty Feldman. Also caught up in Castle Frankenstein’s history, he’s a mirror of his boss. “My grandfather worked for your grandfather,” he tells him when they meet. “Of course, the rates have gone up.”

Feldman plays a man tasked with being a traditional lackey, but who can’t help making sarcastic jokes to rise above his station. Upon hearing “Fronk-en-steen,” he asks why the doctor doesn’t pronounce Frederick “Frohd-rick,” and rebrands himself as “I-gor.”

Igor’s hump shifting shoulders throughout the film was a gag Feldman improvised. When he tells Dr. Frankenstein, “Walk this way,” the punchline is to do so hunched over and limping. The gag inspired Aerosmith’s Top 10 hit, “Walk This Way,” in 1977.

The film also gave birth to an enduring myth that the surname of the elder Dr. Frankenstein’s girlfriend, Frau Blücher, is German for “glue,” explaining why it unsettles horses. Wilder just thought it sounded German. But even the on-screen Blücher, Cloris Leachman, believed the legend. 

Along with the high- and low-brow gags, the film’s timeless theme keeps it as relatable today as it was in 1974. The younger Dr. Frankenstein comes to embrace his destiny over the course of the plot, inviting audiences to make peace with the past without letting it define them. 

The first movie based on Shelley’s work was 1931’s “Frankenstein.” The 1974 expansion on the story was able to recapture so much of the original’s gothic charm by calling upon the original set designer, Kenneth Strickfaden, who had the original props stored in his garage. 

The last surviving actor in the main cast, Teri Garr, passed away on October 29. Playing Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant, Inga, she was first cast in Kahn’s role. Mr. Brooks told her she could play Inga if she could do a German accent. She improvised one on the spot, basing it on Cher’s wig maker.

“Young Frankenstein” may be turning 50, but if you haven’t seen it in years, details and gags you missed are now unlocked, waiting to amuse you. It’s well worth watching to mark the anniversary, whether via DVD, streaming, or a blurry flickering image at a theater that loves the classics as much as Mr. Brooks.