Review: UCLMT's ‘The Producers’
“Hitler… there was a painter!”: a hilarious satire on show business, Nazism and stereotypes.
Photo Courtesy: Lorelei Cairns
Already soldiering through a pernicious hangover, UCL Musical Theatre Society’s The Producers was a shock to my system. Having neither read, nor seen, nor heard of Mel Brooks’ 1967 film-turned-musical beforehand, the audience and I were in for a hell of a ride. The Producers tells the tale of Max Bialystock, a failing theatre producer, who partners with the anxiously insecure accountant, Leopold Bloom, to put on the worst, box-office-bomb-of-a-play possible in order to embezzle $2 million. With satirical Nazism, Broadway caricatures and a whole lot of snazzy, jazzy, pizzazzy theatricality, the stage was alight with vigour and zest. I loved it.
It is through side characters like the lewd old ladies playing lascivious sex games with Sophie Eaton’s Bialystock, and the sultry Swedish Ulla who falls in love with Leah Dawson’s Bloom, that the play is vivified. This is something in which Joshua Moore, the production’s director, triumphed. From Rory Graham’s Franz Liebkind, the camp but earnestly pro-Nazi writer of the play, to Dom Jenkins’ Ulla, a flamboyantly sexy secretary whose legs are always akimbo and/or above her head, the audience cannot stop giggling. Equally delightful is Magnus Cameron’s Roger Debris, a quintessentially primadonna-esque director, and his blurry semi-closeted relationship with assistant Carmen Chia (Christopher Lee), whose walk is so Vogue even Madonna couldn’t beat it. Every single character is portrayed with such spark, humour and eccentricity that it is all a pleasure to watch.
The backbone of this musical is in the casting: gender is not important, only caricature is. Through this, Eaton and Dawson’s partnership and chemistry is divine. Eaton embodies the old theatre producer to perfection, keeping a constant hum of chuckles from the audience with her exaggerated Bronx accent and exuberant physicality. Dawson’s mercurial Bloom is similarly magnificent. Her swift transitions — from hyperventilating anxiety to squeaky, terrified fury, to hissing at Bialystock, to silent passivity when lying on the blue blanky — are a treasure to witness. The interplay between old Bialystock and young Bloom, between confident and meek, boisterous and apprehensive, provides a satirical commentary of Show Business, but also reflects a wonderful push-and-pull between the two actors. This rapport between the eponymous producers is a wholesome, heartfelt aspect of the play, culminating in the penultimate courtroom scene. Less wholesome, but painfully hysterical, is Eaton’s farcical motorboating motif — a stellar element of the gender-blind casting.
While the chorus girl troupe performed remarkable routines, and there were some highly impressive tap sequences, I would have liked to see more cohesion in some of the other ensemble dances. Whatever was lacking in some areas of dance ability, was made up for tenfold in the sheer joie de vivre that was both represented in and fostered by the play, despite all the swastikas! It was a visually stimulating production, with fabulous costume and set design, and deep sensitivity has gone into both its production and reception. While a cut was severely needed, with the play bordering on three hours long, it was ultimately a bloody hilarious experience, Hitlers and all!