THE PRODUCERS - FESTIVAL PLAYERS AT THE ADC
Ah the sweet smell of failure! A flop that could make a million bucks, a Broadway musical whose first-night closure will bring riches (he hopes) to the coffers of Max Bialystock and his nervy sidekick Leo Bloom. Max is an old-hand producer of a series of spectacular disasters the latest of which was ‘Funny Boy – the Hamlet Musical’. Each turkey has lost Max a deluge of dollars that he has painfully gained by having naughty nookie with sex-starved nonagenarians who back up his shows in exchange for naughty games. Add in a classic dumb blonde, a crazed pigeon-fancying Nazi and a director who is more camp than Butlins.
This is all pre-woke and Me Too; some may find the 60s sexism, the casting couch gags, and nudge nudge jokes a bit much to swallow but this is Mel Brooks and we are firmly in his outrageous world, a theatrical version of the legendary 1967 film, ‘The Producers’.
The full-length, nay very long, stage version has more songs than the Zero Mostel movie and a few funny, if inconsequential sub plots. With its array of song-and-dance numbers and Busby Berkeley pastiche routines it must present a huge challenge to any theatrical company let alone an amateur one. So the good news is that Festival Players can, and did, draw on a starry cast of local performers who brim with talent and fiery energy.
There were some truly jaw-dropping moments in the show not least the very opening. During the overture, we were treated to a projected graphic novel version of the plot which hilariously caricatured the cast. The artist behind this brilliant curtain raiser was uncredited in the programme but hats off to them.
Talking of hats, Max’s man-baby accountant Leo, producer manque, is not allowed to wear the black Homburg until he has seen the curtain rise and fall of his first show. That production, a show ‘guaranteed to flop’ and thus earn Max and Leo a fortune thanks to some creative accounting, is ‘Springtime for Hitler – a gay romp with Adolf and Eva Braun’. Given that we are told half the audience will be Noo York Jews, the show is bound to close on first night ‘it won’t even get past page 4’ says Max with glee.
That said, it is hard for a Cambridge cast to really get Mel Brooks’ many Yiddisher jokes and references – some fell as flat as a matzah. A small quibble in an otherwise laughter-filled evening.
Brooks’ show offers a cast list of bizarre, over-the-top characters. Outstanding for me was Luke Thomas as the gayest man in the Village. Wide eyed, bendy-bodied and gorgeous in frocks, it was a true star turn that had the audience in howls of laughter. His portrayal of a prancingly gay Hitler in the mad musical-within-a-musical was a complete hoot - more Mein Camp than Mein Kampf. His ‘Heil Me’ routine brought the house down.
Matt Brown was also excellent as Bloom, the little man with big dreams of Broadway success. No one can compare to Gene Wilder’s screen Leo Bloom but Brown came very close.
Matt Wilkinson sang powerfully as Max, not least in the extended musical soliloquy – a steal from ‘Reviewing the Situation’ from ‘Oliver!’ There was though something not quite there about his Bialystock – perhaps not large enough, not quite Brooklyn Jewish enough. This producer is a grotesque chancer who is called by Leo in a fit of pique ‘fatty’. Wilkinson is slight of frame. Picture here the sweating, comb-overed Mostel. It’s a very hard act to follow but to be fair, the actor here did a fine job, full of manic energy.
Jonathan Rosten was blitz-perfect as Franz Liebkind probably the love child of Adolf and Eva, at least in Brooks’ imagination. His routines with a nazi-saluting mechanical pigeon was worth the ticket price alone. Elle Brown also shone as Ulla, the curvaceous comic Swede whose sexy turn-ons get Leo running for his comfort blanket. Brown is also a very fine performer with tons of stage presence.
As a piece of musical theatre, the show adds little to the tight-ship comedy of the original. The second half definitely drifts off a bit and there’s a feeling of a song or two too many.
But that caveat aside, this is a truly memorable production – superbly costumed: wait till you see Ulla’s fab gossamer wings, the troupe of prancing Nazis, and the zimmer-frame tapping of a chorus of Mrs Mertons. The show was brilliantly sung and acted with a great band to accompany the performers. It was unadulterated fun. This show about failure is an outstanding success.
