When six silver-sequined chorus girls, one of whom is obviously pregnant, burst out of a gray accounting office and do a comic-sexy dance, you know something sublimely ridiculous is afoot.
When 11 old ladies limp on stage, turn and tap dance with their aluminum walkers, foolishness reigns.
The first scene arrives early in “The Producers,” a madcap, transgressive musical by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan. The second emerges well into a show that miraculously has survived political correctness.
“The Producers,” with its inner musical “Springtime for Hitler,” first appeared in Brooks’s 1968 film. It took 33 years for the satire to morph into the Broadway musical and another four years for a second film version.
Do the math because a high-octane production now is on stage at Fort Lewis College for only one more weekend. Don’t miss it.
In 1968, Brooks, soon to be 90, took on a big task – to make fun of Hitler. His timing was questionable. “The War was not even cold,” he wrote about the late ’60s, “and the memory of being in concentration camps was still vivid for Jews. It was literally in bad taste.”
Good taste or bad, the world didn’t care, and Brooksian satire won the day. The work is filled with anarchic fun. It’s enormously entertaining – and challenging for professionals, not to mention college students.
“The Producers” centers on an unlikely pair of entrepreneurs determined to scam backers by deliberately staging a bad show. They scheme an opening night closure so they can escape with the investments.
A sleazy but resilient Max Bialystock (the wonderfully mercurial Ian Noble) once was the king of Broadway, but now he’s out of luck and money. Into his life comes Leo Bloom, a jittery innocent, an accountant (played with comic subtlety by Adam Sowards).
Bloom checks Bialystock’s books and dreamily realizes one could make a fortune on a flop. Bialystock takes him seriously and immediately begins to seduce Bloom into the get-rich scenario. It could net millions, but Bloom isn’t a pushover.
Eventually, B&B set out to find “the worst play ever,” with a terrible director and pitiful actor/singers. Act II largely is the interplay of “Springtime for Hitler” with unforeseen consequences.
The FLC ensemble joyfully sustains the manic energy which drives the musical. Director Ginny Davis has cast well, and her principals are excellent. The huge 18-member chorus is flexible, many playing multiple roles and cross-dressing when needed.
The stage band has the chops to play klezmer music as well as svelte tangos and a rumba every time the Rio escape is mentioned. Periodically, a crisp 4/4 march reminds us of the story’s dark underbelly.
The FLC production is a collaboration between the drama and music departments. Director Davis has assembled a creative team to steer the huge cast and crew. She’s ably supported by choreographer Judy Austin and her associate, Kaelin Roach, who have appropriated a number of dance styles with wit and humor.
Costume designer Jane Gould has colorfully outfitted New Yorkers, showgirls, Nazi stormtroopers and jailhouse prisoners. Music professors John O’Neal and Charissa Chiaravalloti have coached musicians and singers to perform with verve. Lori Worthman and the set crew fashioned a two-tiered structure that shifts silently to create multiple locations.
The early accounting office scene lingers in my mind. Choreographer Austin’s smart-funny concept has Bloom and his brow-beaten brother drones tap dancing in their chairs. They spin in formation until the big boss enters. Mr. Marks (the magnificently fearsome Benjamin Reece) yells: “Where do you think you’re going? You’ve already had your toilet break.”
Bloom sees the light, quits his job and steps forward into bright stage lights. With a smile, stylish top hat and cane, he dances and sings, “I want to be a producer.” The silvery showgirls surround him. The fantasy scene toys with a fixture in American musicals, the so-called dream ballet. Brooks having fun again.
Rich in asides, double entendres and Broadway clichés, “The Producers” is a minefield of American comedy and a theatrical trunk full of surprises. As I said, don’t miss it.
jreynolds@durangoherald.com. Judith Reynolds is a Durango writer, art historian and arts journalist.
If you go
“The Producers,” a musical by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan, Fort Lewis College Drama and Music Departments, Main Stage. Directed by Ginny Davis. 7:30 p.m. April 9-11. Tickets: Adults $16; FLC faculty and staff, seniors $14; FLC students with ID free, available at the Welcome Center on Main Avenue or at the door and www.fortlewis.edu/theatre. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.
