The Producers, Théâtre de Paris
Clique ici pour la version française 🇫🇷
In 2021, the Théâtre de Paris, supported by Stage Entertainment, presented the first-ever French production of the musical The Producers. Originally created on Broadway in 2001, it won 12 Tony Awards that same year, still holding the record for the most awards ever won by a musical. Mel Brooks wrote the book (with Thomas Meehan), as well as the music and lyrics, based on the film he directed in 1968. A genius of humor, he is best known in France for his movies (Young Frankenstein, The Last Madness of Mel Brooks, among others), but he is also a writer whose talents have been expressed since the 1950s on television and theater.
I must admit that I never loved the film The Producers. Perhaps its zaniness left me somewhat on the sidelines. I readily acknowledge the writing, the humor, and the masterful pacing. Nevertheless, it’s not a film I particularly admire. If you are unfamiliar with it, here’s the story: a broke producer, with the help of his naïve accountant, decides to stage the worst show on Broadway in order to make a fortune through insurance fraud. Certain of the project’s failure, he chooses a musical called Springtime for Hitler. Of course, nothing will go as planned.
Delighted that Alexis Michalik took on the direction of such a project, I saw The Producers twice: in 2021 and then in 2026. I commend Nicolas Engel’s adaptation, so fluid that one forgets it’s an American work. Alexis Michalik’s touch is evident. The show is energetic, never losing momentum for a single second. It runs, snaps, twirls, laughs, sings its heart out and better still: it dances. The ensemble is beautifully showcased and provides valuable support to a book that occasionally loses steam. The troupe is so dynamic that it constantly maintains the pace and makes us forget these minor weaknesses with a tap step, a high kick, or a perfectly timed pirouette.
The casting of the leading roles is impeccable, each actor excelling in a well-written and expertly performed part. Admittedly, each role is an archetype (the crooked producer, the conscientious accountant, the seductive woman, etc.); the performers succeed in embodying them and freeing them from the constraints the script might otherwise impose. While the boulevard-style feels a bit heavy-handed to me, within the confined space of the producers’ office, I love how the show soars with each song (especially « I wanna be a Producer » or « When you got it, Flaunt it »). The lightness that lifts off Mel Brook’s words ans music delights me. And of course, the humor as well. I’m thinking in particular of one of my favorite scenes: the encounter with the Nazi pigeon breeder on the rooftop (« Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop »). That said, in both performances, I couldn’t bring myself to laugh along with the character of Carmen Ghia, the queen of the show. The queen, the flamboyant gay character has always existed in theater.
Throughout history, we have laughed at her and then laughed with her. She has been portrayed as vile and weak, then later as a more complex, even powerful character. Cabarets embraced her and helped her evolve. Between the queen of Jean Poiret’s La Cage aux Folles and that of the Jerry Herman-Harvey Fierstein duo, there’s a whole world. And a perspective. Perhaps that perspective is lacking in The Producers. I am not suggesting any offense, of course—the show is full of goodwill in every respect—but rather a sense of datedness. This portrayal feels outdated. And it suddenly gives it an old-fashioned tone. While the show is bursting with energy everywhere else, here it falters. And that’s a shame because it’s vibrant in every other way. But here, it looks at least twenty years older.
There are many strengths in The Producers: the adaptation, the staging, the cast, as mentioned. It’s also worth praising the beautiful costume design by Marion Rebmann and the stunning sets by Juliette Azzopardi. The choreography blends in delightfully, especially in my favorite part: the opening night of « Springtime for Hitler ». It’s in this second act that Mel Brooks’s talent truly shines through (kudos again to the translation): the ability to handle outrageous absurdity with delicacy and, at times, brutality. This show-within-a-show is a masterpiece of idiocy and finesse. And, undoubtedly, the climax.
I should note that we don’t entirely agree. One of us absolutely loved The Producers. I, on the other hand, might be a bit of a sourpuss. I’ll try to see the version currently playing at the Garrick Theatre in London. My greatest satisfaction was seeing a full house, on a weekday evening, laughing at a little-known musical in a major Parisian theater. I hope this is just the beginning and that many other hidden gems will benefit from such a setting.
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