THE PRODUCERS

Garrick Theatre

★★★★★

“Naughty throughout, the production embraces its sparkly bad taste with debauched chutzpa”

Some shows come round at just the right moment. At a time when everyone is avoiding the political cracks in the pavement for fear of causing offence, along bounces Mel Brooks’ delightfully unrestrained The Producers gatecrashing the zeitgeist and reminding us that laughter can be the most subversive act of all.

Seems like a relief to be able to guffaw without checking the taste-o-meter.

Patrick Marber’s revival, first seen at the Menier Chocolate Factory, has now graduated to the Garrick, bringing with it the same riotous mix of bad taste, Broadway pizazz, spectacle and sheer joy.

The premise is still a comic marvel. Max Bialystock, a washed-up producer, has found a way to bankroll his flops by seducing elderly widows. Enter Leo Bloom, a neurotic accountant who spots a loophole: with creative accounting, more money could be made from a disaster than a hit.

Together they hatch a plan to stage the worst musical ever written. Unfortunately for them, that play – Springtime for Hitler – is embraced as satirical genius.

Andy Nyman’s Max is an inspired mix of sleaze and clowning, hustling with the air of a man who might sell his own mother if it kept the lights on. Nyman delivers – always.

Marc Antolin makes a marvellously twitchy Leo, a tangle of nerves and Broadway dreams. Together, they are a comic odd couple whose energy drives the show. Their routines – whether sparring, scheming, or tentatively finding a kind of friendship – are delivered with sparkling timing.

The supporting company maintain the standard – this is an ensemble of comic genius.

Joanna Woodward belts gloriously as Ulla, the secretary who offers romance as well as vocal fireworks. Harry Morrison’s Franz Liebkind is a delicious caricature of the deranged Nazi playwright, his lederhosen-clad lurching matched only by his chorus of puppet pigeons. Best of all, Trevor Ashley brings the house down as Roger de Bris, the flamboyant director pressed into service as the Führer, a vision in spangles and satin who manages to be both ridiculous and weirdly lovable.

Marber and choreographer Lorin Latarro work wonders in giving this the sweep of a Broadway blockbuster. Old ladies tap-dance on Zimmer frames, accountants break into showbiz numbers, and stormtroopers goose-step in perfectly drilled formation. Scott Pask’s lightbulb-framed set and Paul Farnsworth’s ever-more glittering and outré costumes heighten the delirium, while Brooks’ songs – “I Wanna Be a Producer”, “Betrayed” – still land with deadpan brilliance.

The show-within-a-show, Springtime for Hitler is the most bad taste, gloriously over-the-top sequence you will see anywhere in London. It deserves, and nearly receives, its own giddy standing ovation.

The satire has softened a little with time, but it is genuinely funny. Not funny as in light-entertainment-knowing-chuckles but the real thing, and slightly febrile. It is Mel Brooks after all.

What lifts this production above mere lark is its unencumbered freedom of spirit. Naughty throughout, the production embraces its sparkly bad taste with debauched chutzpah. It is like a big guilty secret we all share in a tucked-away speak-easy from where the social media stormtroopers are barred.

For all the lechery, fraud and outrageous parody, there is genuine affection in the bond between Max and Leo, and a sense that Brooks’ ultimate subject is not fascism but the lunacy of showbusiness itself. It is both love-letter and send-up, celebrating the power of theatre even as it mocks its excesses.

The Garrick now houses the most joyously tasteless evening in town. It is the ultimate antidote to All That Horrible Stuff Out There. It may be shocking, outrageous and insulting, but you will surrender. You vill surrendah.

THE PRODUCERS

Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 15th September 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MRS WARREN’S PROFESSION | ★★★★★ | May 2025

UNICORN | ★★★★ | February 2025

WHY AM I SO SINGLE? | ★★★★ | September 2024

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF | ★★★ | June 2024

FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★ | March 2024

HAMNET | ★★★ | October 2023

THE CROWN JEWELS | ★★★ | August 2023

ORLANDO | ★★★★ | December 2022

THE PRODUCERS

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

Barbican

★★★★★

“Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision”

In its Barbican transfer, director Jordan Fein’s revelatory Fiddler on the Roof retains the elemental power that made it a five-star phenomenon in Regent’s Park. He strips the beloved 1964 musical of its nostalgic veneer to expose something more potent and contemporary: a raw and resonant meditation on tradition, displacement, and the endurance of community.

Fun, too, in case there should be a misunderstanding. Great fun.

Set in 1905 in the menaced Jewish shtetl of Anatevka before the Russian revolution, Fiddler follows Tevye, a weary but devout milkman, as his five daughters begin to choose love over arranged marriage, and the outside world encroaches upon his way of life.

Anchored by songs like Tradition, If I Were a Rich Man, and Sunrise, Sunset, it’s long been cherished for its warmth and wit. But Fein’s version – subtly but decisively restaged – asks more interesting and topical questions too: what happens when the traditions that once sustained a community begin to fracture under the weight of change? What is the true impact of displacement, of a people menaced from their homes?

Where the musical was once critiqued as “shtetl sentimentalism,” this staging leans into pared-down grit, stoic humour, and haunting lyricism. There is a modern feel to the witty script – and to the resolutely ambiguous ending.

Tom Scutt’s gorgeous design is emblematic of the approach: instead of quaint rooftops, we see cornstalks uprooted and suspended above the stage, evoking both harvest and trauma. The titular fiddler (a magnetic Raphael Papo) becomes not just a symbol but a shadowy companion, echoing Tevye’s inner world with eerie cadenzas and an eventual duet with Hannah Bristow’s Chava – whose marriage outside the faith breaks her father’s beleaguered heart.

The huge cast is potent, using impressive numbers to magnificent effect, a dream sequence appearing like a fully-realised Hollywood dance number. Meanwhile, Adam Dannheisser’s Tevye is no grandstanding showman but a wry, tired father trying – and failing – to hold his family together through reason, prayer, and rueful monologues. His comedic timing is sharp and he plays out with great relish the classic sitcom paradigm of the father and husband who declares his dominance only to have it slyly eroded by the headstrong women around him.

But it’s his gentleness that resonates most, particularly opposite Lara Pulver’s commanding Golde, whose grounded and wary pragmatism keeps the domestic scenes taut and touching.

Fein’s direction and Julia Cheng’s muscular choreography is marked by sublime precision. The Bottle Dance at Tzeitel’s wedding is performed under a canopy that rises and falls. On top of that precarious canopy, and ominous, the fiddler makes clear that everything is poised on the brink of a mighty disaster. The Russians are coming.

The cast functions as a true community, especially in the spine-tingling finale as they sing Anatevka, their voices braided with longing, resilience, and bitter clarity. In a final image, the toppled milk cart, beautifully lit, appears like an oil painting. Everywhere, indeed, there is beauty and catastrophe.

One of Fein’s many achievements lies in his refusal to oversell modern parallels. The production trusts its audience to make the connections – to recognise in Anatevka’s forced dispersal the long shadow of global displacement. It neither moralises nor rants; it simply tells the story with integrity and emotional intelligence.

For all its sumptuous visual invention and musical flair, Fiddler is most powerful in its silences: a father cut off from his daughter, a community carrying candles into the dark, a fiddler playing an aching lament.

Tag Archives: Larry Blank

THE PRODUCERS

★★★★★

Garrick Theatre

THE PRODUCERS

Garrick Theatre

★★★★★

“Naughty throughout, the production embraces its sparkly bad taste with debauched chutzpa”