A rather sweet rear-view exercise from Brooks, as usual flapping about in all referential directions but settling somewhere between Jacques Tati and Benny Hill in terms of style. It outstays it’s welcome with the relentless shtick - Brooks is nothing but exposition - but has visual invention and innocuous warmth along the way.
It's honestly a bit weird that Mel Brooks doesn't know why silent comedies are so memorable. The best of them, Keaton, Chaplin, etc, worked with minimal intertitles and intricate, effective gags. Brooks' homage relies on tired wordplay and dumb jokes, several of which are outdated (the two women shouting a gay slur is cringeworthy), most aren't funny. Bonus star for Bancroft's scene which is a diamond among manure.
Distinctly authentic film from an author who may have based his movies upon a work already done, but kept reinterpreting himself and his comedy in a fresh way with every new try. "Silent movie" is yet another overall entertaining example, no matter how much parodying slapstick proved to be an unthankful task.