The Producers - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

*****

Music and lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan

Directed by Patrick Marber

Richard Kind and the company of The Producers

It seems almost impossible to believe that The Producers came out as a film in 1967, nearly 60 years ago. It remains a comedic masterpiece written by surely one of the greatest comics of all time, the legendary Mel Brooks, himself now a sprightly 99 years old. To many, turning the film into a stage musical was akin to drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa. Why attempt to improve perfection? In 2001 they achieved the impossible, turning a brilliant film into an equally brilliant and hilarious musical.

The plot is simple. It seems that there is more money to be made in producing a guaranteed failure on Broadway than a hit show, so Bialystock and his naïve accountant partner Leopold Bloom, set out to create a guaranteed disaster and pocket $2 million. 

After a highly successful run at the Menier Chocolate Factory, the show transferred to London's Garrick Theatre. Andy Nyman, who opened at the Menier as Bialystock is taking a brief sabbatical and has handed his cardboard belt to Broadway actor Richard Kind. Kind's on-stage energy levels are never dialled to less than eleven, and he has the comedic ability to earn a round of applause with just a look or a simple, subtle gesture. He inhabits the role as if it were a tailor-made suit and eeks out every single molecule of the crooked producer. He’s as crooked as a politician, but the audience loves and roots for him.

Elsewhere, this tried, tested and fabulous company continue. Marc Antolin plays the neurotic, shy accountant, Leopold Bloom, drawn into Max’s nefarious, fraudulent scheme. Antolin can sing and dance superbly, having everything one needs to be a musical star and shining in every scene. 

The rest of the cast are equally superb, wringing every last ounce of comedy gold from the simplest, even throw-away lines, turning already inspired characters into even better, funnier versions. Australian Trevor Ashley is hilarious as the hopeless director Roger Debris, and is clearly loving every on-stage moment, as is his ‘assistant’ Carmen Ghia played by Raj Ghatak. The duo bring a new dimension to camp and the result is a gem. Harry Morrison as the deranged playwright  Franz Liebkind, eats the scenery whenever he’s on stage - the laughter he induces is painful! Special mention to the pigeons scene – a terrific touch. 

The always reliable Joanna Woodward plays Ulla, the barely intelligible ‘Swedish secretary’ hired by Max and Leo, and her Monroe-esque presence illuminates the stage as does her comedy timing. 

What is communicated so clearly to the packed audience is that every member of the entire ensemble is having a blast, seemingly enjoying their roles as much we are enjoying watching them. Is this a show for the easily offended? No. But that's the point. A musical entitled "Springtime for Hitler" was shocking in 1967. Now the swinging sixties have evolved into the grim, divided, angry 2020s and in many ways, the show's message is stronger and more relevant than ever.

The Producers is an outrageously offensive, camp, rude, and irreverent musical from which no one is safe from being the butt of a joke. I loved every moment of it. One word sums it up, a word we hear less and less these days – fun. Enjoy it while it’s still legal.

Reviewed by Russ Kane

Booking to 19th September

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

The Producers - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

****

Music and lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan

Directed by Patrick Marber

Andy Nyman

The two stars of this Menier Chocolate Factory revival of The Producers are Andy Nyman’s stunning take on Max Bialystock and Mel Brooks’s timeless script and libretto which, no matter how many times one may have seen the show or the movie(s), delivers gags that never grow old.

Bestriding the stage like a (diminutive) Colossus, Nyman looks the part. Capturing the impresario’s scheming slobbery, Nyman's is possibly the finest Bialystock to have played on a London stage. He nails the sharp self-deprecating irony to a tee, and what’s more he can hold a note too. Nyman’s flawless singing leads to a glorious delivery of his 11 o’clock number, Betrayed.

As Leo Bloom, the haplessly inadequate accountant sent to balance the producer’s books, Marc Antolin brings musical theatre expertise to the role but lacks an authenticity. With a performance that’s technically sound (the boy can surely sing and dance), there’s something missing in the chemistry of his improbable pairing with the monstrous Bialystock.

The show’s featured roles are all a blast of sheer theatrical hilarity. Joanna Woodward’s Ulla is every inch the blonde Swedish bombshell, Trevor Ashley’s Roger Debris is a work of camp genius, while Harry Morrison’s Nazi playwright Franz Liebling is gloriously overplayed to perfection.

Lorin Latarro’s choreography is another treat, with an array of styles from pastiche Jewish traditional through to Broadway-infused tap numbers. The economy of the show’s staging however, that may have worked cutely well and garnered the audience's sympathy in the extremely confined Menier space, seems a little understated on its transfer into the West End.

An interesting observation on the show is that both Andy Nyman and Zero Mostel (who created Max Bialystock in the first (1967) movie) have trodden similar paths en route to playing Brooks's outlandish producer. Mostel had created Tevye on Broadway in the 1964 premiere of Fiddler on the Roof, a role that Nyman was to assume (again at the Menier) nearly 60 years later. Who knows? Perhaps there is an understanding of the very essence of larger than life Jewish characterisation that an acting journey from the shtetl to the Great White Way provides? Either way, it works!

This revival of The Producers, the West End’s first in 20 years, makes for a great evening of irreverent musical comedy. Brooks’s gags are relentless, perfectly pitched, and guaranteed to offend (almost) everyone.

Booking until 21st February 2026

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

The Producers - Review

Menier Chocolate Factory, London

****

Music and lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan

Directed by Patrick Marber

Andy Nyman and Marc Antolin

The Producers that has just opened at the Menier Chocolate Factory has sold out for the entirety of its 14-week run before one review has even been published! Patrick Marber directs and his helming of this revival of Mel Brooks’ comic gem, is impeccable. As musicals go The Producers is massive and to have been able to have crammed it into the Menier’s intimacy is quite an achievement. Designer Scott Pask has used the venue’s size to bring us closer to the chemistry of the relationship between scheming Broadway producer Max Bialystock and his apparently timid accountant Leo Bloom.

The show’s plot famously centres around Bialystock and Bloom’s need to create a surefire flop, so as to avoid having to pay out any returns to Bialystock’s “little old lady” angels who he has seduced and defrauded by overselling the profits of his next show many times over. The pair stumble across Franz Liebkind, a Nazi playwright whose Springtime For Hitler they seize upon as a show in the worst possible taste and guaranteed to bomb at the box office. Of course, through an over-plastering of camp and kitsch, the musical goes on to become a Broadway smash and the pair are exposed as scheming crooks.

The accomplished Andy Nyman (who played Tevye at the Menier six years ago) is Bialystock with Marc Antolin playing Bloom. Nyman masters Bialystock’s New York Jewish shtick, getting under the skin of the man’s chutzpah and irreverence. Bialystock however needs to bestride his scenes like a colossus and there is something just a touch diminutive in Nyman’s turn. His take on the monstrous producer is unlikely to be remembered as one of the greats.

It is Marber’s supporting characters, from the show-within-a-show, who really bring this production to life. Playing Broadway director Roger De Bris is Trevor Ashley who gives possibly the finest interpretation ever to this larger than life character. Equally Harry Morrison's Franz Liebkind is a treat. Joanna Woodward gamely steps up to the role of Swedish blonde Ulla, hired as the producers’ assistant and she too delivers a performance that is as fabulous as her stunning looks.

Marber’s ensemble are close to flawless with Lorin Latarro’s choreography proving to be a work of genius within the Menier’s confines. Matthew Samer’s musical direction is also a delight.

Winter may be upon us but there's no room for snowflakes at The Producers. Aside from its two protagonists who end up in Sing Sing, this is a show that takes no prisoners. And as Mel Brooks mercilessly mocks a slew of minorities, the evening makes for one big guilty pleasure. 

Runs until March 1st 2025

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Hairspray - Review

London Coliseum, London

*****

Music by Marc Shaiman

Lyrics by Scott Wittman & Marc Shaiman

Book by Mark O'Donnell & Thomas Meehan

Directed by Jack O'Brien

Lizzie Bea, Michael Ball and Les Dennis

A cast comprising both stalwarts and debutantes of the West End make Jack O’Brien’s revival of his original take on Hairspray a must-see for anyone who has craved musical theatre during lockdown’s cultural drought.

Hairspray is of course all about the power of well-integrated diversity, where life’s typical outsiders become the heroes and the bigots are the baddies. In a socially distanced London Coliseum, where the covid-compliant capacity has been shrunk from 3,000 to 1,000 it was Michael Ball who summed up the audience’s roars of rapture, by saying at the curtain-call that they had cheered like 10,000, such was the throng’s pent-up passion.

Making her West End debut – albeit with a string of regional work to her credit – Lizzie Bea  leads with a stunning Tracy Turnblad. From the moment she bursts from her vertically transposed bed, straight into Good Morning Baltimore, Bea sets the evening’s pulsating tone. Confident and charismatic, Bea wins her audience and without ever resorting to kitsch or mawkishness, she masterfully enacts Tracy’s story, winning love and empathy as she hurtles towards the show’s sublimely happy ending.

Opposite Tracy is of course her domineering mother Edna and yet again for a London Hairspray, it is Michael Ball who returns to the padded suit to reprise what must surely (after Les Miserables’ Marius) be his second signature role. The years have seen Ball age disgracefully into his Edna with him proving all the more delectably monstrous for it too. The show’s eye-wateringly brilliant comedy highlight remains Ball and Les Dennis (as hapless hubby Wilbur) duetting (You’re) Timeless To Me. The song demands perfection in its timing and nuance for its shtick to work – with the seasoned professionalism of Ball and Dennis providing a masterclass in hilarity.

The always excellent Marisha Wallace delivers a magnificent Motormouth, with a performance that both rouses and enraptures the Coliseum’s crowd. Her take on the show’s eleven o’clock number I Know Where I’ve Been sending the audience into a spontaneous standing ovation, such was her power of performance and emotion.

Rita Simons brings her 2-dimensisional character of arch-baddie Velma Von Tussle into wonderfully comic relief, while squaring the circle of the show’s key love arc, Jonny Amies (another West End newbie) offers an assuredly chiselled performance as TV show host Link Larkin.

O’Brien and his choreographer Jerry Mitchell, know Hairspray intimately and yet they still infuse a freshness and vitality into the production that makes it as relevant a comment for today as for its original target of 1960s civil rights torn Baltimore.

Outstanding musical theatre!

Runs until 29th September

Photo credit: Tristan Kenton

Young Frankenstein - Review

Garrick Theatre, London


****

Music and lyrics by Mel Brooks
Book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan
Directed and choreographed by Susan Stroman

Hadley Fraser and Shuler Hensley

Not since the pairing of Bialystock and Bloom has there been a theatrical partnership to match that of Mel Brooks and Susan Stroman. He’s an irreverent comic genius who for 70 years has taken no prisoners in his mocking of life’s stereotypes and injustices while she is one of the most perceptive and assured director/choreographers of her generation. And so it is that their latest collaboration Young Frankenstein, recently arrived from Broadway to open at London’s Garrick Theatre, is another triumph.

Like The Producers before it, Young Frankenstein hails from a Brooks movie of some 40 years earlier with the veteran writer/director reframing the comedy-horror flick around his own composition of words and music. And much like Dr Frankenstein’s eponymous creature, Brooks (together with Stroman) has re-animated his story into exceptional musical theatre. If Sunset Boulevard is a sincere tribute to the romance of post-war Hollywood, then Young Frankenstein is an as-loving parody of the same time and place, but played for laughs. 

Snowflakes be warned, there are no “safe spaces” in this show as Brooks makes fun not only of cinematic genres, but also, and mercilessly, of men, women and for good measure exhumed corpses too. The jokes may be as corny as they are smutty, but Brooks knows just how far to dig in mining this rich and timeless seam of humour, throwing political correctness to the wind.

The plot (very) loosely follows the classic story, with Hadley Fraser as the fine-voiced young Dr Frankenstein leaving his slightly matriarchal fiancée Elizabeth played by Dianne Pilkington and setting off from New York (aboard the HMS Queen Mary Shelley, geddit?) to travel to his infamous grandfather’s castle in Transylvania.

Once there and in the heart of Europe, (and oh how Hollywood has, for decades, loved to view our continent as full of nightmarish monsters) the young Doctor meets a string of characters that are straight out of the 1950s B-Movie playbook

Ross Noble is Igor, the hunched assistant, Lesley Joseph plays Frau Blucher an older woman with a sinister past, while Summer Strallen is Inga whose character is largely a recreation of The Producers’ Ulla.

Noble’s talent lies in stand-up comedy - though he applies himself brilliantly to the scripted confines of Igor’s ineptness. Joseph however is quite simply an old-school comedy master. She works the room and with her big number He Vas My Boyfriend offers up a gloriously pastiche of Marlene Dietrich.

Strallen’s Inga sends the comedy straight back to the 1970s - gifted in song, dance and performance, her turn defines the cliché that Brooks has created for her.

There’s eye-watering stuff from Patrick Clancy who doubles up both as the village’s police Inspector as well as a Hermit who befriends the monster. Clancy is also a talented pro who’s worked with Brooks before - his timing is spot on, with slapstick that is as hilarious as it is offensive.

Notwithstanding the occasional lapse in pace, Stroman’s staging is inspired. Act 2 may contain some wittily brilliant tap routines that spoof Top Hat delightfully, but the first half’s number Hang Him Til He’s Dead sees the pitchfork-waving mob of villagers choreographed into an embarrassingly joyous hangman’s dance. And as for the horses that haul Dr Frankenstein’s cart to the castle, never has the equine form been staged or suggested with such ingenuity and comedy.

Perhaps the biggest accolade of the night is due to Shuler Hensley who plays The Monster. Only rarely seen on this side of the Atlantic (he was last in London in the 90s for an Olivier-winning turn as the monstrous Jud in the National Theatre’s Oklahoma) Hensley created The Monster on Broadway before touring with the show and he breathes a life into one of the canon’s most curious characters. His Monster has to evolve from being of virtually zero-intelligence, to a creature that’s far more sophisticated. To reveal any more would be to spoil - suffice to say that Hensley masters the transformation magnificently.

As this review is published, the producers have announced that the run is extending into late 2018. Hurrah! Young Frankenstein is a fabulous night out.

Booking until 29th September 2018

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Death Takes A Holiday - Review

Charing Cross Theatre


*****


Music & lyrics by Maury Yeston
Book by Thomas Meehan and Peter Stone
Based on the play La Morte in Vacanza (Death Takes A Holiday) by Alberto Casella

Chris Peluso and Zoe Doano

It is rare that a musical is presented with such exquisite elegance as Thom Southerland delivers with Death Takes A Holiday, making its European premier at the Charing Cross Theatre. The essence of Maury Yeston's musical, itself drawn from Alberto Casella's 1920s Italian play, is that of a love story spun from the finest filigree, yet, like Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, played out against a hauntingly gothic backdrop. 

The prologue sees the beautiful Grazia thrown from a speeding car in a horrific crash. Her death must surely be unavoidable but Death himself, so captivated by her beauty, spares her. Intrigued by the mysteries of humanity, whose lives he has claimed and stalked over the centuries, for one weekend only Death grants himself two days of mortality. Assuming the identity of a Russian Prince, he visits Grazia's home as an unexpected house guest and what follows is quite literally a fairy tale of enchanted love and ultimate tragedy. Throughout Death's weekend vacation no-one (anywhere) dies, Grazia's family discover new depths of relationships, while Grazia herself falls in love with Death, in a passion that is as deeply doomed as it is reciprocated. 

It's a brave story to stage - for to suspend the audience's disbelief and convincingly create a world that is potentially of the darkest horror, requires nothing less than precision stagecraft. Leading the show are Zoe Doano and Chris Peluso as Grazia and Death. The two are magnificent and with both having only recently led in major West End roles, their pedigree is breathtaking. Zoano's soprano voice combines power with fragility. Her four solos are compelling and commanding, while her duet with Peluso, More And More, is a heartbreaker. Likewise Peluso, whose striking performance captures the inscrutable paradox of his weekend of humanity. We believe he is a man with the ultimate of powers and yet at the same time reduced to a childlike curiosity when confronted with that most profound and rawest aspect of humanity, the power of love.

It’s impossible not to care for nearly all of the supporting characters too. Mark Inscoe is the Duke Lamberti, Grazia's father, already mourning the recent death of his son and as the host, charged by Death not to reveal his house guest’s true identity. As he watches his daughter fall for Death's charms and knowing what could potentially await her, Inscoe's delivery of this most complex of emotional struggles adds yet another layer of tragic beauty to the plot. In a modest role Kathryn Akin's Stephanie, Grazia's mother delivers the most poignant of numbers that mourns her son with Losing Roberto, Yeston’s composition truly touching the heart.

Samuel Thomas offers another ingenious cameo as the battle-hardened fighter pilot who recognises the Russian Prince for who he really is, while James Gant's butler Fidele, offers occasional moments of well nuanced comedy that are beacons of relief along the story's bittersweet arc. There are equally weighted moments of brilliance from Anthony Cable and Gay Soper as a veteran star-crossed couple finding love, their ageing temporarily paused during the weekend's magic and from Scarlett Courtney and Helen Turner as Grazia’s contemporaries. 

The creative talent behind the show is as topnotch as the cast with Morgan Large's set proving as simple as it is wondrous. A rotating set of palazzo walls and doorways, graced by rococo chairs, ingeniously create the Lamberti home, complemented by Jonathan Lipman's period-perfect costuming, with Matt Daw's lighting proving both sinister and spectacular in equal measure. Hidden away offstage, Dean Austin's 10 piece band could easily pass for a far larger West End orchestra, such is their treatment of Yeston's soaring score.

The show deserves to be snapped up for a longer run or transfer - it really is that good, but until then rush to the Charing Cross Theatre. Death Takes A Holiday is the darkest of fairytales in a work of musical theatre that is at the very top of its game.

Runs until 4th March
Photo credit: ScottRylander

Elf - Review

Dominion Theatre, London

***

Book by Thomas Meehan and Bob Martin

Music by Matthew Sklar

Lyrics by Chad Beguelin

Directed and choreographed by Morgan Young

Ben Forster and Kimberley Walsh

Twelve years after the movie scored itself into the global psyche as a modern day Christmas classic, the musical version of Elf makes its London premiere at the Dominion Theatre.

Elf's cute story would melt even the most glacial of hearts as it tells of apparently orphaned Buddy, who is inadvertently swept into Santa's sack and flown back to the North Pole. The movie's success proved the tale's potential for comedy along with much seasonal schmaltz as it follows Buddy's growing up with Santa and his quest to return to New York City to discover his true family.

Ben Forster as Buddy steals the show with an un-relenting charm and wide eyed enthusiasm. Forster's performance may well be inspired by the movie's Will Ferrell, a tough act to follow for sure, but the young Brit brings something new to the character and does a smashing job of maintaining an upbeat energy throughout the show.

TV and popstar Kimberly Walsh looks and sounds fabulous as Buddy's love interest Jovie, interjecting a perfectly measured counter-balance of humour to Buddy's Christmas enthusiasm.

Amongst the cast Joe McGann as Buddy's natural father Walter, who has to learn to love his newly-discovered son, offers up an ultimately touching turn. The elfin Jessica Martin as his wife Emily similarly convinces and there is a standout performance from Jennie Dale as Walter’s secretary Deb. Delivering one of the show's funniest performances, Dale earns rapturous applause from the crowd.

The producers have adopted a pricey ticketing approach to this show, with top premium tickets going for an eye watering £250+! Not unreasonably, expectations are stratospheric and they are not met. For that price one might well have expected the movie's famously hilarious shower scene to have been played out on stage in a fully plumbed in set (it isn't). And where Hollywood sprinkled the film with a generous helping of classic Christmas songs, Sklar and Beguelin's numbers (which to be fair are imaginatively staged by Morgan Young, including some lovely tap routines) written for the show are, for the most part, quickly forgotten. And, thinking of the little ones, bear in mind that even for £250, the show is at least 30 minutes too long. 

But hey, it’s Christmas - and whilst Elf may be little more than typically festive theatre fayre, it makes for a fun night out in the West End. The scenery and projections are smart and they even make it snow inside the Dominion!

Runs until 2nd January 2016

Guest reviewer: Josh Kemp