The Producers, which is currently having a revival at London’s Menier Chocolate Factory, is the musical adaptation of Mel Brooks’ classic 1967 film comedy of the same name, with music and lyrics by Brooks himself.

Max Bialystock is a Broadway producer who has had flop after flop, most recently with Funny Boy, a musical rendition of Hamlet. He makes ends meet by seducing old ladies and raiding their purses. Leo Bloom is his accountant who works out that in the right circumstances a flop could make more money than a hit, and so between them they attempt to produce the worst show ever made, “Springtime for Hitler,” which has been penned by Nazi in hiding, Franz Liebkind. In order to really put it over the top, they pressgang cross-dressing Roger De Bris to direct and then star, and the results are…. unconventional.

Before we get onto the show itself, a word on the venue. The Menier Chocolate Factory is an exceptional theatre space. It’s tiny, with only 180 seats, and so every seat is the equivalent to the best (and most expensive) seat you could hope to get in a conventional West End theatre. Not only that, but the quality of productions are often equal in both ambition and quality to those of larger venues. In past years, they have staged Funny Girl with Sheridan Smith, and, more recently, Fiddler on the Roof. In short, the productions are impressive, the venue is small, and the audience gets an exciting, memorable experience no matter where they sit.

The Producers is definitely a big show. There are musical numbers, chorus girls, and lavish costumes. It is also extremely funny.  The songs by Brooks are every bit as hilarious as the few that are in the original movie, and fit seamlessly into the story, which is a remarkable achievement, more so when one considers that Brooks was mid-way through his seventh decade when the show premiered in 2001. It is also expanded from a dramatic point of view. Those who have seen the film will no doubt remember Ulla, the sexy secretary, whose sole purpose in the movie is to dance in minimal clothing whenever music is played in the office. Here she has actual lines and a story arc: she and Bloom fall in love. It’s such a successful adaptation that some of the best moments of the movie seem a little dwarfed on stage, or perhaps that’s specific to this production. The scene from the movie in which Gene Wilder as Bloom has a full-blown panic attack when his blue comfort blanket is taken away just doesn’t come across. The same could be said of a later scene where Bloom wrestles with Bialystock and calls him a “fat, fat, fatty.” This is likely because Wilder was a singular performer who could deliver sudden bursts of anxious energy like no other. He is the one actor that one cannot put out of mind when watching this production of the show.

The Producers was a bonkers movie and it is an even more bonkers musical that represents the pinnacle of comedic bad taste: Liebkind, the Nazi playwright, keeps pigeons that have swastikas on their backs, Bialystock sings of all the gorgeous ass he got back in the day, Roger De Bris has a living marble statue on display complete with prosthetic genitals, and during the show within the show, “Springtime For Hitler,” is pulled onto the stage in a silver chariot pulled by a semi clad homosexual while dressed as Hitler in a ball gown. During one number a Nazi eagle dances across the stage for goodness sake. None of this outlandish material would work without an absolute commitment to the insanity, and thankfully this production fully delivers, creating an unrelenting, heightened atmosphere of madness that had a riotous effect on the audience.

It’s all absolutely hilarious, and the cast must be commended for their no-holds barred delivery to keep the laughs coming and any semblance of reality at bay. In particular, Andy Nyman as Bialystock delivers a perfect balance of old fashioned charm and sleazy charisma, and really carries the show. Harry Morrison is entirely, and appropriately, demented as the Hitler loving playwright Franz Liebkind. He’s a big and powerful presence. And Trevor Ashley is marvellously flamboyant, and rather loveable, as the deluded cross-dressing director-actor Roger De Bris. His song (delivered in the manner of Judy Garland’s “Born in a Trunk” from A Star is Born) about how Hitler was not really an overnight success, was this writer’s favourite, funniest moment in the show.

There are, unfortunately, one or two quibbles to be mentioned. Despite the utter craziness and debauchery on display, there is a strange conservatism running through aspects of the show, which are a little jarring. Two scenes in particular stick in the mind. The musical number, “When You’ve Got It Flaunt It,” from act one is meant to demonstrate how openly sexual Ulla is and the hypnotic effect this has on men. She marches onto the stage wearing a plastic rain coat, bare legs visible beneath. Yet when the song begins and she removes the coat she is wearing a very ordinary, albeit attractive, dress which doesn’t even hint at sexuality. During the number she causes Bialystock and Bloom to literally fall down in amazement. Bialystock yells out Wowwowweewaa! He claims to be standing at attention, even though he’s sitting down. Yet, despite the song’s title nothing, at all, is flaunted. I fully appreciate that this is no longer 1967, and one wouldn’t expect the performer to jiggle about in her underwear, but the costume choice acts completely contrary to the lyrics, to the character and to the purpose of the song, and when considering the amount of skin and sexiness shown elsewhere, it would seem reasonable to allow Ulla to wear something that at least hints at her promiscuous, exhibitionist nature. Similarly, there is a sweet song – “That Face” – between Ulla and Bloom during which they fall in love. The number ends with them standing close, staring into each-others’ eyes. The moment is perfect for a tender kiss, but the kiss never comes. In a show that has gay men, one dressed as a drag-Hitler, French kissing, it would seem permissible to allow the lovebirds of the show to at least have a little peck. Again, this is a very odd, probably deliberate choice, that one can surmise comes from a well-meaning, but misguided attempt to make Ulla less of an object of desire and lechery for a more PC audience. All of the above left this writer scratching his head for a good half an hour and detracted from the show somewhat. Although it must be said that Joanna Woodward is fine in the role and delivers her big numbers beautifully.

The next quibble is a little subtler, but just bear with me. At certain points in the show the actors put their middle fingers up at Hitler.  Bialystock and Bloom do this when pledging their allegiance to the Fuhrer when convincing Liebkind to let them produce his show, and during at least one song a rabbi prances on stage and does the same. At the end of the show, when the cast are taking their bows, Harry Morrison, still dressed as Liebkind, has one of his puppet pigeons do a little bow to show that the swastika has been removed from its back. What, one might ask, is the issue here? Well, the entire show is the most hilarious, ludicrous middle finger to Hitler and the Nazi’s. Surely no audience member in their right mind could possibly think otherwise. Like Chaplin’s The Great Dictator, The Producers demolishes Hitler by making him an absurd object of ridicule. It strips him of his seriousness, of any shred of dignity, and makes him an utter laughing stock. By giving him the literal finger the production gives the impression of losing faith in the power of comedy to do this, and their audience to understand this. Also, a middle finger is not clever or funny, whereas Brooks’ show is. Very. As for removing the swastika from the pigeon’s back, it was as if we were being told not to worry, we’re not really Nazi’s, you’re back safe in reality again. We’d have to be feeble-minded to think otherwise. But I suppose this is the kind of well-intentioned, quite unnecessary coddling that production companies feel they need to do for modern audiences when dealing with subversive material. It was a tiny moment, however.

That aside, it’s a great show.

The Producers is playing at the Menier Chocolate Factory, London until March 1st 2025.

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