The Producers

By Mark Kearney

Man, I hate standing ovations. You see, I was taught that the 'Big O' was something you kept to yourself until you came across someone worth sharing it with. And yet there is an increasing and disturbing trend among theatregoers to dispense vertical applause like runner-up ribbons at a pre-school athletics carnival. No where is this bad habit more rampant than in musical theatre.

But occasionally a good old-fashioned great show comes along that warrants our complete and utter praise. The Producers, presented by Jeannie Pratt's The Production Company, is one such show. By the final curtain, I was unashamedly up on my feet giving rapturous praise to all involved.    

The Producers is the brainchild of comedy hall-of-famer Mel Brooks and tells the tale of down-and-out Broadway producer, Max Bialystock (played by Wayne Scott Kermond), whose chance meeting with obsessive-compulsive accountant Leo Bloom (Brent Hill) sparks an idea too good to be true: fundraise twice as much money needed to stage a Broadway musical and keep the leftovers to bankroll an early retirement in Rio!

The Producers - Photographer: Jeff Busby

But the unlikely duo's plan can only succeed if the production is a total flop, not difficult if Bialystock's recent track record is anything to go by. However, the intervention of a Swedish bombshell (Christie Whelan-Browne), a Nazi librettist (Trevor Ashley) and one very camp director-cum-actor (Mitchell Butel), transforms the show (the gloriously un-PC "Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp With Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden") into a triumphant success, leaving Max and Leo with some serious explaining to do.  

I was nervous about The Production Company taking on this challenging show. The original production, which won a recordbreaking 12 Tony Awards in 2001, was big, slick and expensive. Pratt's troupe work within the confines of a two week rehearsal period, an onstage orchestra and a more meagre design budget. But their rendition demonstrates that The Producers is, at its heart, an actor's piece, and every performer in this show is up to the task, particularly the ever-fabulous Hill, Butel and Ashley. Whelan-Browne as Scandinavian pin-up Ulla is all class, and her real-life husband, Rohan, is a scene-stealer as a deliciously queer PA with a penchant for the work of Bob Fosse.  

One performance demands an extra special mention, though. Wayne Scott Kermond as miserly Max is the heart and soul of The Producers. The role is responsible for much of the humour in Brooks' script, particularly through his farcical physicality. Kermond delivers generously in this department. His work culminates in the Act II number 'Betrayed', in which Max recaps the events of the show in fast-forward; it is exhausting, exhilarating viewing and justifiably earned the biggest applause of the evening.

Supporting production elements complement directors Andrew Hallsworth and Dean Bryant's on-stage vision well, without ever drawing attention away from the actors. In fact, settings by Adam Gardnir are the very minimal, relying largely upon a dominant, multi-levelled rostrum adorned with lightbulbs (well-handled by lighting designer Paul Jackson) that go some way to capturing the blinding glamour of 42nd Street. Lastly, one should not pass up the chance to congratulate musical director Vanessa Scammel and Orchestra Victoria for their note-perfect accompaniment all night.

A Production Company show doesn't run for anywhere near the 20 years Max Bialystock predicts for 'Springtime for Hitler', and if everyone at the State Theatre on opening night is as complimentary as me, tickets will go faster than you can ask, "Haben Sie Gehoert Das Deutsche Band?" If you go along, be sure to wear comfortable footwear; you'll need it for the lengthy (and worthy) standing ovation come curtain calls.