The Producers

A great cast, whose professionalism shines through every bead and spangle, brings this flashy version of Mel Brooks’ politically incorrect valentine to Broadway of the fifties gloriously to life. With expert direction by director and choreographer Joseph Simons, this whacky paean to the Third Reich bursts with flamboyant performances.

Mark Hill’s Leo Bloom and Patrick Connoly’s Franz Liebkind were outstanding. Hill, as the nerdish accountant Bloom, is a triple-threat performer who gave one of the best dancing performances of the role I’ve ever seen. He and Rachel Ward’s (Ulla) cloning Astaire and Rogers in ‘That Face’ were a class act. Likewise Connoly’s Franz, also a triple-threat, who ate up the Nazi-sympathiser with storm-trooper relish. ‘Haben Sie Gehort Das Deutsche Band’ was a riot of laughs.

The second-act’s show-piece, ‘Springtime for Hitler’ with James Lee as thoroughly inept and ludicrous Roger De Bris was deliciously OTT, especially in his Garland edge-of-the-stage seduction vocal with legs crossed.

Matt Young, who played the blind violinist in the original Australian Cast, brought his experience to the crassly immoral Max Bialystock, the ‘king’ of Little Old Lady Land. His number ‘Along Came Bialy’ with the octagenarians was funny, but would have been funnier if they had ‘zimmer frames’ as well as walking sticks as they did in the original.

Mind you, the Powerhouse’s shallow stage did not allow a lot of space for full-on production numbers. Simon’s choreography did a lot with little with amazing results.

Alex Watson was a swishy Carmen Ghia and Jackson Reed’s lead-tenor Stormtrooper was an asset.

Jacqui Devereux led a tight band through Brooks’ pastiche score, but Josh McIntosh’s cumbersome sets looked more 1930s than 1959, the period in which the show is set. Madeleine Barlow’s costumes were appropriately foolish (the German sausage) and stylish (Ulla’s pale blue outfit), whilst Ryan McDonald’s lighting and Jack Sandrett’s sound added to the show’s period ambience.

Not all of the gags landed. ‘Let’s play a game where there’s absolutely no sex – the Jewish Princess and her husband’ fell with a dull thud, but most of them raised a laugh - ‘you’re going out there a silly, hysterical screaming queen, and you’re coming back a passing-for-straight great big Broadway star’ - which the very theatrical audience lapped up.

Peter Pinne