A Review For 'The Producers': A Satiric Masterpiece, A (Not-So-)Surprise Smash

★★★★ | “It was shocking, outrageous, insulting… and I loved every second of it!”

Thus sings Max Bialystock in The Producers, echoing the rave reviews for his Springtime for Hitler as it dazzles critics and Jews alike – a neo-Nazi musical that was to be a surefire flop. As I jumped to my feet and aggressively applauded during the curtain call, my sentiments were exactly the same. 

Mel Brooks’ absurdly hilarious (and 12-time Tony-winning) musical, adapted from his 1967 film of the same name, tells the story of failing Broadway producer Max Bialystock and timid accountant Leo Bloom, as they attempt to put on the biggest flop on Broadway. Their reasoning is as follows: a show that closes immediately after its opening would incur little cost and receive little profit, allowing its producers to pass under the radar of having to financially renumerate its investors in order to embezzle the investment money. 

So off they go, launched onto a journey to find the worst play ever written, with the worst director and cast, to stage a show that is guaranteed to close in one night. Their search brings them to the pigeon-loving Nazi playwright Franz Liebkind, flamboyant and unsuccessful director Roger de Bris, drop-dead Swedish bombshell Ulla, and Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp with Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden. And – in a drastic turn of events – critical acclaim, as well as the chaos that follows. 

The company of The Producers. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Despite having performed this very show ten months ago, few things could have prepared me for the sheer volume of sparkly costumes and kicklines that were unleashed by director Patrick Marber upon the Menier Chocolate Factory. The theatre may have been small, but the feat certainly wasn’t – I would never imagine that a musical with as much glitz, glamour, and marquee lights as The Producers could work in a 300-seat auditorium.

Marber’s great accomplishment with this show is his ability to preserve the essence of a great big Broadway musical in this intimate performance space. From the moment I entered, I could recognise the homage that it pays to the golden age of Broadway: with rich red velvet curtains lining the stage, posters adorned with rows of lightbulbs, and Barbra Streisand’s iconic rendition of ‘Don’t Rain On My Parade’ from the musical Funny Girl playing from the speakers (of course, also a nod to ‘Funny Boy’, Max Bialystock’s horrific musical adaption of Hamlet that opens the show). The theatre kid in me was on cloud nine. 

Marber and set designer Scott Pask keep the stage quite bare; the only semi-permanent set pieces are the door to Max’s office and the safe where he keeps his money – both of which can be wheeled or tucked away as necessary. Though this choice seems to conflict with the massive scale that the source material implies, it is a surprisingly apt one, as it keeps the performance space fluid and transformative without the need for multiple elaborate sets. Through the clever use of props, the door, and an incredibly committed ensemble, I was whisked through Max’s office, an accounting firm, an Upper East Side townhouse, Max’s holding cell, a courtroom, and the Shubert Theatre. 

Andy Nyman and Marc Antolin as Bialystock and Bloom in The Producers. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

What the production saved on in the set department was evidently channeled into the costume and hair budget instead. Designed by Paul Farnsworth and Betty Marini, they are lushly ostentatious, with as many sequins, coiffed wigs, and eyeliner wings as the genre of classic musical theatre demands. Little details did not escape my eyes either, such as the holes in Leo’s worn blue blanket or the stains on Max’s rented tux – the cherries on top of a beautifully frosted character cake. 

The standout performances are, of course, delivered by Andy Nyman and Marc Antolin – the duo who bring the caricatures of Bialystock and Bloom to life. Their chemistry is electric and palpable, building throughout the show and peaking in scenes such as the brawl following ‘Where Did We Go Right?’. Nyman does not hold back on the sleaze or lack of self-respect, stepping into the reprehensible character of Max Bialystock to great comedic effect. With full commitment to Max’s aging and pot-bellied physicality, every crass remark elicits at least a chuckle from the audience, with the Little Old Lady (Max’s wizened investors who pay him in exchange for romantic escapades) trysts sending us into fits of laughter.

Nyman’s shining moment, however, is undoubtedly in ‘Betrayed’ – a five-minute, non-stop epic that recaps his and Leo’s journey from the start of the musical until that moment in a prison holding cell. Despite being in the depths of illness (much like everyone in this flu season), Nyman delivered this monster of a solo with incredible breath control while still retaining the comedy and characterisation that comes with it. 

Andy Nyman (as Max Bialystock) in The Producers. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Opposite Nyman, Olivier-nominee Antolin holds his own equally impressively. His meek demeanour is encapsulated in his wide, timid eyes and fidgety hands, ever-ready to reach into his suit and whip out his trusty blue blanket. Antolin spends most of the first act following Max around but masterfully sheds the initial cowardice as the musical progresses, giving us glimpses of Leo’s growing confidence. As an incredibly precise dancer, Antolin executes Lorin Latarro’s choreography with ease, revealing the depth of Leo’s character through brief moments of charisma in the musical’s dance sequences. 

They are backed by an equally strong supporting cast of Harry Morrison, Trevor Ashley, Raj Ghatak, and Joanna Woodward, who put everything into bringing their quirky characters to life. Next to them, the ensemble holds the fort and is instrumental in creating the world of The Producers, effortlessly flitting between chorus girls, depraved elderly women, and pigeon puppeteers. 

While I had an undeniably sublime evening in the audience, there are only three bones that I would pick with this production. Firstly, against the two leading men, I felt Woodward’s Ulla recede slightly into the background. Considering the majority male cast of The Producers and the overtly satirical point that Ulla’s character is meant to make about the role of women in the theatre, Ulla’s diminished presence comes as quite a pity and heavily undermines this. 

Marc Antolin (as Leo Bloom) and the company of The Producers. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

Secondly, I would have loved to see the production play more into the meta-theatrics written into the text. As a remarkably self-aware show (both in terms of its form as a stage musical, and the nature of the entertainment industry), much of its comedy stems from these moments of meta-theatricality. In the middle of one scene, when Max shouts “Intermission!”, the house lights are turned on. Despite the directorial genius of this moment, it was almost undersold by Nyman, and the joke didn’t land as well as it could have.

Lastly, other than Marber’s (highly successful) direction of the musical for a small stage, this production of The Producers is quite vanilla. While highly enjoyable, it remains just another revival of an extraordinarily well-written musical – compared to previous professional productions, there is little that sets it apart. 

That being said, it is a sheer testament to Mel Brooks’ writing that I still found myself cackling at every single one of his jokes and smiling inwardly at all the Easter eggs hidden within, despite having heard them so many times over in the past. Perhaps that’s just it: a show with quality source material like The Producers simply does not need anything wildly inventive to be a success. Close to 60 years after the release of the original film, it remains as relevant and hearty a commentary as ever, on the realities of the entertainment industry and all the chaos that goes on in the back office.

★★★★

The Producers plays at the Menier Chocolate Factory until 1 March, 2025.