Viking Night: The Producers
By Bruce hall
May 31, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Many first time directors go out of their way to make a splash. The entertainment business loves to eat its young and often what determines how good you are is a matter of nuance, or personal taste. No matter how talented you are, almost nobody becomes successful without also being lucky. And then of course there’s the Almighty Benjamin. He doesn’t care whether or not you’re good at what you do, just as long as you’re putting butts in seats. So when you’re getting ready to write and direct your first film, do you go for something strictly aesthetic? Do you sell out and try to pander to whatever’s popular? Or maybe you do what a lot of guys do, you film the craziest idea you’ve got, because chances are they’re never going to let you make another one of these things anyway.
So Mel Brooks, he of Blazing Saddles and he of Young Frankenstein, gave unto the world The Producers. If it sounds familiar it may be that you’ve seen the 2005 film starring Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane. Maybe you were lucky enough to see the Broadway adaptation that opened in 2001. Maybe you had no idea the original film came out in 1968. It’s okay if you didn’t, because it means I get to introduce you to it. In fact I consider it a public service. The musical was entertaining, and the movie version of the musical was musically moving. But they’re still musicals and I’m sorry, just I hate musicals. The original film is without question an audacious and brilliantly written piece of work and even the weak have enough energy to succeed anyway.
Max Bialystock (Zero Mostel, who has somehow GOT to be related to Nathan Lane) is a down on his luck Broadway producer with a string of recent flops under his ample beltline. Reduced to making ends meet by swindling little old ladies out of their life savings, Max is on his last financial legs. Bad enough, until his accountant arrives to do the books, and discovers that Max has been taking liberties with his investors. Leo Bloom (Gene Wilder) is a neurotic, hysterical egghead who’s never broken any rules had fun or been happy a day in his life. He’s horrified by Max’s shenanigans, but intrigued by the man’s energy. Leo mentions offhand that were an unscrupulous man to use Max’s system on a larger scale, he could make millions but would never be able to repay his investors. Max realizes that if he were able to raise millions of dollars for a lavish production and have it flop, he could walk away with a fortune.
All they’d have to do is raise the money and then put on the worst play in history, guaranteeing it would close on opening night. At first Leo is against the plan, but Max takes the nervous little man on a whirlwind tour of Manhattan. They eat hot dogs, they go to the carnival, and then they take an elevator to the top of the city. There, Max appeals to the part of Leo that’s always wanted to do something impulsive, and the squirrelly accountant takes the bait. Soon they stumble upon the worst play ever written, by an insane ex-Nazi named Liebkind (Kenneth Mars), who now lives in Manhattan. Liebkind’s play is a fawning retrospective on the most hated dictator in history, written by a lunatic who spends his days on a rooftop singing the Nazi anthem to stray pigeons.
They hire the worst director they can find, a vainglorious cross dresser named Roger De Bris (Christopher Hewett, aka Mr. Belvedere). He changes the script into a musical and adds dancing girls. As Hitler, they cast a prancing hipster doofus named LSD (Dick Shawn – sort of a '60s Charlie Sheen type). His ineptitude as an actor cannot be overstated. They call the play Springtime for Hitler and make preparation to open the play – and close it – on the same night. I probably shouldn’t tell you that things don’t go as planned and that the results are wacky and hilarious. But this is the kind of film where you could make three random guesses as to how it’s going to end and I’m sure one of them would be right. This is not an unpredictable film.
The Producers is, in fact, a movie about a musical that feels like one, but isn’t one. It’s bursting with energy like a runaway jackhammer, and just when you’re sure someone is about to burst out singing they thankfully don’t. It’s an atmosphere of manic anticipation that feels as much like a stage play as it does a film. On an overacting scale of one to ten, Zero Mostel rates a 14. But it’s a stage persona and every time you think it might be bothering you, his performance just seems to fit what the script demands. Gene Wilder is an excellent actor who has an inherent sweetness, and the fact he makes Leo so believable is what makes the character impossible not to love. And the mix of slapstick comedy and Faustian intrigue combine to keep either from going too far over the top. This film is both louder than it needs to be and funnier than it should be.
In fact, if you’re the sort of person who hasn’t laughed since they were a baby then don’t bother seeing this movie because it just might kill you. I’m not kidding when I say that this is one of the funniest films I’ve ever seen and every time I watch it I don’t stop laughing for days. If nothing else, watching the opening number of Springtime for Hitler and the audience’s reaction to it is worth the entire running time. If you’ve never seen this movie you owe it to yourself to do so, because it has in abundance what most Mel Brooks films lack: restraint. Yes, I called a comedy about a play about Hitler “restrained”. Brooks’ usual sight gags and wordplay are there but don’t worry, in this one the gags know when to stop. It’s one of his three best movies and I’ve got no problems calling it one of the best comedies ever made.