Andy Nyman (Max Bialystock) and Marc Antolin (Leo Bloom) in The Producers. Photo by Manuel HarlanOnce the golden boy of Broadway, Max Bialystock (Andy Nyman) has hit the skids with one flop after another. With debts mounting, he hides his unscrupulous financial dealings by using two accounting books (one real, one for the IRS) which is quickly uncovered by visiting accountant Leo Bloom (Marc Antolin). The bookish numbers man, off-handedly suggests that you could theoretically make more money producing a flop on Broadway than by having a success. Thereafter, the two develop clandestine plans to produce a surefire stinker and reap the financial rewards. Thus, they land on a frenzied pro-Nazi love-fest Springtime For Hitler penned by Adolf’s uber-fan Franz Liebkind (Harry Morrison). But will there be honour among thieves and more importantly, who will get the girl — in this case a Swedish blond bombshell named Ulla (Joanna Woodward)?
As is often the case with show transfers, much depends on how the tunes, dance routines and comedy shtick translates across the footlights of a traditional proscenium arch house. For this reviewer, the transition hasn’t been without issues, not least the acoustics, which require the stream of unashamedly corny gags to be heavily overplayed to ensure they land.
The wholesale Jewishness of the material — its mocking of Hitler, the tongue-in-cheek parades of goose-stepping chorines, the frequent appearance of swastikas — is very deliberate and neutralises the taboo-ishness by sacrificing it on the altar of comedy. As anyone familiar with the story will know, there is a requirement for Gattling Gun comedic delivery throughout, emulating one of the most traditional of all vaudevillian theatre delivery styles, but there was definitely a sense that the show had become a tad tired (or was that exhausted?) by the second press night, irrespective of the cast’s best efforts. It may be sacrilege to suggest such a thing, but even perfection (and the original film is near perfect) can sometimes seem like a chore when repetition fatigue begins to creep in.
As directed by Patrick Marber, the party scene where our devious pair attempt to cajole a pseud-director Roger Debris (Trevor Ashley) and his largely pointless camp side-kick, is particularly lacking in sophistication and resorts too often to slap-stick and lewd kitsch. More successful are the office scenes involving flirtatious moments and a constantly revolving combination safe, which becomes the fifth star of the show. Add to this, the endless visual prop gags, swastika adorned pigeons and Gareth Valentine’s name-that-musical-reference in the dance routine orchestrations (this reviewer heard The King & I, West Side Story, A Chorus Line and Chicago) and there is a great deal to enjoy in this rollicking addition to the West End skyline. Besides, even if you feel faintly frazzled by the end, you can always nap on the journey home assuming strikes haven’t scuppered your travel plans.
The Producers is scheduled to run at the Garrick Theatre until 21st February 2026.
