The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!

There are comedies that make you chuckle politely, and then there are those rare gems that leave you gasping for air, desperately wiping tears from your eyes while praying you don’t miss the next gag. The Naked Gun belongs firmly in the latter category.
In this gleefully absurd outing, Leslie Nielsen stars as Lt. Frank Drebin, possibly the most dangerously incompetent police officer ever to carry a badge. When his partner Nordberg (O.J. Simpson) is found riddled with bullets after stumbling upon a drug smuggling operation, Drebin launches an investigation that uncovers a plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth during her visit to Los Angeles.
What follows is 85 minutes of relentless comedy that operates with the precision of a Swiss watch and the subtlety of a sledgehammer—often within the same scene.
The film’s genius lies not just in its willingness to push sight gags to their breaking point—though the sequence where Nordberg stumbles through an escalating series of mishaps is a masterclass in physical comedy choreography. Rather, it’s in how the Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker team uses these extended sequences as misdirection for their real comedic ammunition: the perfectly timed one-liners that catch you completely off guard.
Consider the hospital scene where Drebin, visiting his injured partner, walks into the room and asks “Where’s Nordberg?” while standing directly over the man’s bed. It’s the kind of joke that works because it subverts our expectations of both the character and the film’s established rhythm. George Kennedy’s straight-faced response—pointing to the obvious—completes the circle of absurdity with such casual precision that it becomes profound in its simplicity.
Leslie Nielsen’s Frank Drebin is a triumph of casting against type. Here’s an actor who spent decades playing stern authority figures in disaster films and dramas, now revealed as a master of deadpan absurdity. Nielsen doesn’t play Drebin as stupid—that would be too easy. Instead, he’s blissfully, earnestly unaware of the chaos he creates, delivering each line with the conviction of a man who believes he’s the only sane person in an insane world. It’s a performance that echoes the best of Bill Murray’s detached cool and Steve Martin’s innocent bewilderment, yet Nielsen makes it entirely his own.
But the unsung hero here is George Kennedy as Nielsen’s boss, Captain Ed Hocken. At 6’3”, his towering presence creates the perfect physical contrast to Nielsen, and his commitment to playing everything straight allows Nielsen’s comedy to shine even brighter. It’s the classic comedy dynamic—you need a rock-solid straight man to anchor the proceedings, and Kennedy never falters.
As for O.J. Simpson’s performance as Nordberg—well, it presents modern viewers with a conundrum. Seen purely as a performance, his willingness to submit himself to such physical indignities for laughs is commendable, especially for a sports star of his stature. But we can’t watch movies in a vacuum, and Simpson’s subsequent infamy inevitably casts a shadow over these scenes.
That said, The Naked Gun succeeds because it operates on multiple levels simultaneously. On the surface, it’s a collection of sight gags and slapstick routines. Underneath, it’s a surprisingly sophisticated exercise in comedic misdirection and timing. The film trains you to expect one kind of humor, then blindsides you with another, creating a viewing experience that rewards attention and benefits from repetition.
This is comedy as precision instrument rather than blunt object. In an era when many spoofs content themselves with simple recognition humor—pointing at familiar targets and expecting laughter—The Naked Gun actually constructs jokes with setup, development, and genuine punchlines. It’s the difference between comedy that’s merely reference-heavy and comedy that’s actually funny.
At 85 minutes, the film never overstays its welcome, understanding that comedy, like a good meal, should leave you wanting just a little bit more. The Naked Gun is that rare spoof that transcends its genre to become simply a very good comedy, period. It’s proof that sometimes the most sophisticated humor comes wrapped in the most seemingly simple package.