THE PRODUCERS

Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★★

“Its biting, irreverent satire is the most delicious slap in the face you’ll ever experience”

“It is shocking, outrageous and insulting… and I loved every minute”. That is a quote from Mel Brooks’ and Thomas Meehan’s musical, but it could easily be the tagline of my review of Patrick Marber’s revival at the Menier Chocolate Factory. There are a lot of minutes – about one hundred and fifty of them – but each and every one of them is an inglorious joy.

It is extraordinary how it has stood the test of time. Written in 2001, based on Brooks’ 1976 movie, the bounds of good taste are annihilated. It’s a fun mind game to speculate as to whether it would ever get made today. Imagine the pitch. Camp Nazis goose-stepping while randy old widows tap dance with their Zimmer frames. Characters use sex as a way of extorting money. Jokes that rely on caricature, stereotypes and offending Jews and Gays. Pigeons with Swastikas and an abundance of limp-wristed ‘Heil Hitlers’. A curvy secretary who needs her fix of daily sex each morning. And of course, the show-stopping play-within-a-play ‘Springtime for Hitler’ featuring the Führer in gold spandex. Absolutely not! You’d be out on the street at best. In jail at worst.

Yet “The Producers” has not only survived, but it also feels more pertinent and relevant today than ever. Its biting, irreverent satire is the most delicious slap in the face you’ll ever experience. Wrap it up in Paul Farnsworth’s stunning array of costume, Lorin Latarro’s gorgeous choreography and Mel Brooks’ own score and you have the perfect Christmas present. It is thoroughly modern, yet the sense of vaudevillian nostalgia sweeps you off your feet from the opening bars to the final rousing chorus.

The premise is simple genius. Producer Max Bialystock bankrolls his Broadway flops by seducing rich, little old ladies. One day Leopold ‘Leo’ Bloom, a nervy accountant comes to check on his books but inadvertently hits on the idea that Max could make more money from a colossal failure than a huge hit. Cue the hunt for the worst play ever written, the most lamentable director and incompetent cast. The show will close on opening night and Max and Leo keep the money raised. But… well, you know the rest. You should. I’ve still yet to meet anyone who isn’t familiar with the story.

The show needs a dynamic duo at its heart. And this production beats with the irresistible pairing of Andy Nyman and Marc Antolin as Max and Leo. Nyman is star material from head to toe, full of ironic cynicism and scheming lechery with a taunting twinkle in his eye. Antolin is simply superb as the anxious accountant with dreams of Broadway. They are the oddest couple, yet visually, physically and vocally they are the perfect match. Harry Morrison, as the over-eccentric, Nazi-centric, pickelhaube-wearing writer of ‘Springtime for Hitler’ adds a zillion shades to the word ‘hilarious’, while Trevor Ashley takes ‘camp’ to the highest summits with his glorious portrayal of Roger de Bris, the flamboyant, failing theatre director. Joanna Woodward’s whimsical Swedish secretary adds love interest, sassy sexiness and a touch of tenderness. But we keep coming back to Antolin and Nyman, who steal the show so often they are in as much danger of winding up in jail as their characters.

The musical highlights are many. Antolin’s ‘I Wanna Be A Producer’, Woodward’s belting ‘When You’ve Got It, Flaunt It’ and Morrison’s high-spirited ‘Have You Ever Heard The German Band?’ to name a few. And Nyman’s ‘Betrayed’ during which he brilliantly gives us a speed summary of the show. Not to mention, of course, the ‘Gay Romp with Adolph and Eva’ in which the company, led by Ashley soar way, way over the top with the flamboyantly brazen ‘Springtime For Hitler’.

You really do have to see it to believe it. In fact, shorten that sentence. You really do have to see it! It is selling fast and furiously, but don’t worry too much. This show has ‘West End Transfer’ written all over it. I return to my opening line: “It is shocking, outrageous and insulting… and I loved every minute”. You will too.

THE PRODUCERS at the Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed on 10th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE CABINET MINISTER | ★★★★ | September 2024

CLOSE UP – THE TWIGGY MUSICAL | ★★★ | September 2023

THE THIRD MAN | ★★★ | June 2023

THE SEX PARTY | ★★★★ | November 2022

LEGACY | ★★★★★ | March 2022

HABEAS CORPUS | ★★★ | December 2021

BRIAN AND ROGER | ★★★★★ | November 2021

THE PRODUCERS

We’re now on BLUESKY – click to visit and follow

★★★★

“Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right”

Orwell, Kafka and Beckett walk into a bar. Sounds like the premise for a joke, and indeed there is a perverse layer of humour that runs through Craig Wright’s “The Unseen”, but on the whole it is made up of pretty serious stuff. There are definite shades of the three writers’ influence, who could well have been swapping notes as they downed their drinks. The bar man is a young, interrupting Tarantino who fancies himself as a bit of a dramaturg while pulling pints. Frivolity and comparison aside, though, Wright’s heavy, harrowing, thought-provoking style comes with its own ambition, agenda and raw uniqueness.

We are plunged straight into the action. Even during the pre-show we are involuntary voyeurs, gazing upon Valdez (Waj Ali) and Wallace (Richard Harrington) in their solitary prison cells. Wallace is asleep while Valdez nervously looks around him, twitching at the sight of invisible ghosts. We see the whites of his eyes as they roll upwards in fear, dejection and confusion. Simon Kenny’s brutally realistic set encases both protagonists in their own worlds. Their own cells, and thoughts. Without making eye contact they communicate, passing the time playing memory games to keep madness at bay. They are grieving for their lost freedom, exacerbated by the fact that neither one (nor us) knows why they have been incarcerated.

Fear and paranoia continually wrestle with hope and optimism. The former invariably gaining the upper hand. A distinctly wordy play, both actors maintain an extraordinary command of the dialogue. Harrington’s Wallace is the more restrained and resigned elder captive. A slave to routine after eleven years, he is just about managing to keep control of his own mind. Waj Ali, as the younger Valdez, is a relative newcomer. Just three years into his stretch he is on rockier ground, conjuring up a hallucinatory woman in the next cell who has promised to help him escape. But both know their only escape from this world is death. Both actors exercise an extraordinary attention to detail that accentuates their personality traits; long buried under institutionalisation.

Into this world bursts Smash, the prison guard whose impossibly complex and damaged character is breathlessly brought to life by Ross Tomlinson. As much a prisoner as the two captives, he lashes out with murderous intent in a vain attempt to kill the oppressive empathy he feels. Both torturer and tortured, we can’t help but wonder how Tomlinson unwinds after each performance. It is a savage hour and a half, and undoubtedly polemic. Director Iya Patarkatsishvili describes it as “more than just a story; it is a call to action”. And for that reason, it deserves to be seen far beyond the smaller space of Riverside Studios. The macabre gallery we walk through on our way into the auditorium bears witness to the reality that is more disturbing than the fiction. The play’s anonymous setting is betrayed by the caged headshots of Russians who have taken a stand against Putin’s regime and found themselves imprisoned as a result.

Against this backdrop, Wright’s writing and Patarkatsishvili’s staging pitch the message just right. Short enough to hit us with a whiplash force, the grotesque humour pricks up our ears to the message that sinks in as insidiously as Orwell’s infamous ‘newspeak’. Not for the faint hearted, its own heart is ferociously strong. Mike Walker’s palpitating sound design sends literal alarm bells. This is happening every day. The finely nuanced and authentic performances are integral to our understanding of ‘The Unseen’ characters. They need to be seen, just as their factual counterparts do. “The Unseen”, in short, is a must see.

THE PRODUCERS

Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★★

“Its biting, irreverent satire is the most delicious slap in the face you’ll ever experience”

THE PRODUCERS at the Menier Chocolate Factory