Mel Brooks became famous by breaking rules he was never actually punished for breaking.
He was a Jewish kid from Brooklyn who made it in postwar Hollywood, and that part is real. But what he did with it was something else entirely.
He made transgression feel like victory. He'd say the forbidden thing, the audience would gasp, then applaud, and everybody left the theater feeling like they'd witnessed something subversive. The Producers mocked Nazis, Blazing Saddles used racial slurs, Young Frankenstein desecrated high art.
The catch was this: these things were only transgressive in the telling, because nobody actually paid a price. The studios made money. Brooks became rich and respected.
Brooks made his fortune telling audiences they were brave for laughing at what already powerful people could safely mock, then accepted their applause as if he'd done something dangerous.
”Brooks has been coasting on that collapse for thirty years. He built his entire career on the space between what you could think and what you could say. That space closed.