The Producers, London musical review: the West End’s most shocking show
The Producers musical review and star rating: ★★★★
Sequinned y-fronts emblazoned with swastikas, floral designs shaped into the Nazi symbol and sing-a-longs including lines like “it’s springtime for Hitler and Germany, Deutschland is happy and gay!” It could only be The Producers, the tongue-in-cheek Nazi musical within a musical written 58 years ago that, despite its age, still feels like the most shocking show on in the West End.
It is hard to properly shake audiences these days, but Mel Brooks’ 1967 script, which has been adapted into two movies and won a record twelve Tony awards, still forces you to pause and catch a breath. Viewers of the original movie would have experienced the war, so it’s hard to make the case that this satire is any less suitable today, but still, amid the inflammatory far-right discourse pervading the news cycle, I couldn’t help but feel that some of this feels tonally out of whack.
We meet crooked Broadway producer Max Bialystock and his nerdy accountant Leopold Bloom, who realise that putting on a flop could actually make more money than staging a hit. The duo meet Franz Liebkind, a German playwright who has written a gay musical homage to Hitler. Believing it could be their ticket to financial success and a critical mauling, they produce his show, enlisting Franz to play the title role.
The Producers: London revival finds freshness in Mel Brooks’ script
Mostly though, Brooks’ script remains an absolute zinger, full of ludicrous songs, X-rated anecdotes and larger-than-life characters. Franz, who is brilliantly imagined by Harry Morrison, is just hilarious as the Hitler obsessive with a cohort of Nazi-supporting pigeons. Trevor Ashley is also hysterical and equally compelling as Roger Debris, the fabulously camp theatre director enlisted to put on the show. Physically Nyman and Antolin have good chemistry as Bialystock and Bloom, even if Antolin’s Bloom occasionally lacks comedic bite.
Brooks’ music is equally memorable. The best of the soundtrack includes the titular I Wanna Be a Producer, sung by Marc Antolin and Andy Nyman, who reprise their title roles from this production’s initial run at the Menier Chocolate Factory. Springtime for Hitler, the big show tune, might be the most absurd few minutes to have ever existed on a West End stage. Outfits by Paul Farnsworth bring a rainbow of fashionable primary colour that wouldn’t look out of place in a trendy east London late-night cabaret bar.
Director Patrick Marber’s revival feels best when it properly exaggerates its subject material. I found a scene in which realistic red and white Nazi banners were draped across the stage uncomfortable and ill-fitting for the current political mood, and the audience’s muted response suggests they did too. A couple of the jokes around Jewish identities also fell flat.
It’s interesting to ruminate on the ethical fringes a show like The Producers inhabits, but ultimately Mel Brooks’ piece remains a comic masterpiece. That it is still one of the most outrageous pieces of cabaret to have ever been performed is quite astonishing, really.
The Producers plays at the Garrick Theatre until 21 February
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