The Producers

Cult movies makes fabulous musicals as Hairspray, The Full Monty and Kinky Boots have proved, and if Mel Brooks’ The Producers is not the best of them, it’s certainly the funniest. Based on his 1968 movie about Broadway hucksters who scam little-old-ladies to finance the worst musical every written, Brooks created a satirical masterpiece that skewers the shams and pretension of musical theatre, with a score that pays homage to Broadway’s Golden Era.

This Savoyards production blew me away. It gets it right in every department; cast, costumes, music, and most of all in the brilliantly accomplished direction of Gabrielle Flowers. Seamlessly melding plot and character, the production dances with joy, and her staging of the comedy set-ups, particularly the slapstick, is timed to perfection.

The character of Max Bialystock is one of the glories of musical theatre; unscrupulous, conniving, a Broadway used-car-salesman of the first order. It’s a gift of a role which Gary Rose embraces with gusto. Whether fending off an overenthusiastic Granny or bemoaning his “Betrayal” by Leo, he was a riot.

Joshua Thia’s Leo Bloom was his perfect patsy. Meek, self-confidence impaired and prone to hysteria, his timing was superb. And he also sang and danced with impish charm.

Grace Clark was deliciously seductive as Swedish bombshell Ulla, Walter Lago wore the lederhosen of Franz Liebkind with storm-trooper zeal, David Morris was an outrageously flamboyant Roger De Bris, whilst Scott Edwards’ Carmen Ghia made mincing into an art-form.

Hanna Crowther’s dance routines were flashy, helped by some sequin-heavy flashy costumes, while Mark Beilby’s 22-piece orchestra sounded appropriately brassy.

This is top-class community musical theatre. It’s well-acted, well-sung and well-danced. It deserves its own five-star award.

Peter Pinne           

Photographer: Christopher Thomas.