The Producers
Confession: I’ve seen the classic 1968 Mel Brooks comedy that spawned the hit Broadway musical- with music and lyrics by Brooks- that this film is based on, though I’ve never seen the musical itself. Confession: I wasn’t a fan of the classic 1968 Brooks comedy- which won him an Oscar- about a Broadway producer and his accountant who try to pull off a scam by selling more than 100% of a musical production- the worst one ever written (“Springtime for Hitler” if you didn’t know), with the worst director and actors to boot- and watch it sink like a stone while they make off with the loot. It wasn’t a lack of appreciation of Brooks- “Young Frankenstein” and “Spaceballs” are among my all-time favorite films (and “Blazing Saddles” is a classic laugh riot). I just didn’t get what the big deal was about it. Of course, the same thing happened with “Dr. Strangelove” when I first saw it- seriously, it just wasn’t that funny, but it’s now one of my all-time favorites.
After watching the new “Producers”- directed for the screen by Susan Stroman, who directed it on stage- I must watch the original film again. It’s not the laugh-out-loud riot you expect from Brooks- at his best- and the ace comic cast this film has, but it’s a vulgar and delightful musical comedy that is a tribute to Brooks, whose irreverent wit is desperately missing from the screen nowadays. Personally, I wish he had taken a shot at directing the proceedings here- maybe all the laughs would have stuck- as Stroman’s feature debut lacks the sure-fire touch Rob Marshall brought to “Chicago.” Of course, “The Producers” is a more traditional Hollywood musical than “Chicago” or “Rent” or “Phantom of the Opera”- to name the recent Broadway-to-big screen musicals- were anyway. Don’t worry, though- Stroman’s direction is just old-fashioned, not lifeless and without imagination; she remembers more often than not that a movie musical requires a more creative approach than a straight stage-to-screen adaptation that can seem static and drain the life out of a musical (see “Phantom”).
Of course, only the most talentless hack could drain the life out of a Mel Brooks story; thankfully, Stroman has an inspired story and delightfully subversive songs- both by Brooks- to work with. Any reservations I had about the film before- and there were many since I wasn’t a fan of the original film- were gone from the first song on. Watching Nathan Lane (hamming it hilariously as the horribly bad producer Max Bialystock, whom he won a Tony for on Broadway) try and convince Matthew Broderick (as nervous accountant Leo Bloom, a role he was born to play) their scheme can work in “We Can Do It.” Leo’s joyous song and tap-dance routine in “I Wanna Be a Producer.” The wickedly inappropriate high comedy of “Keep it Gay.” The slyly seductive wit of Uma Thurman- a sexy-funny pleasure as Ulla- turning Max and Leo on in “When You Got It, Flaunt It.” And then, there’s the centerpiece that started it all, both here and back in 1968- the wrong-on-so-many-levels “Springtime for Hitler,” which does exactly what Max and Leo hope it doesn’t- make the audience- who sees it more as satire than serious- stand up and cheer. There hasn’t been a more diabolically funny musical since “South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut,” and I haven’t even mentioned the riotously hysterical stereotypes sent over the cliff and through the center of the earth by Will Ferrell (as the Nazi writer of “Springtime”) and Gary Beach (as the cross-dressing director) that elevate the tone to its’ appropriate degree of over-the-top with Lane, while Broderick and Thurman ground it in the heart of their budding relationship that makes it more than just a broad farce. But it doesn’t get gooey; leave it to Brooks and these actors to know the story’s stock-and-trade is in howlingly funny vulgarity. But as Brooks (who dubs over a line during “Springtime” and appears onscreen after the credits role) once said- as recalled by Roger Ebert in his Great Movies review of the original- to a woman who told him his film was vulgar, “Lady, it rises below vulgarity.” Just one example as to why Brooks’ broad, brilliant comic touch is so sorely missed onscreen, and why the new “Producers” should be cherished despite its’ rare shortcomings.
