Book: Mel Brooks/Thomas Meehan; Music/Lyrics: Mel Brooks
At: Ford Center, 24 W. Randolph
Phone: ( 312 ) 902-1400; $37-$82
Runs through: Nov. 30
What can be said about The Producers that hasn't already been said? In its pre-Broadway engagement and then its record Tony Award-winning run on Broadway, reams of reviews and feature stories were written about The Producers phenomenon. Its original incarnation, with Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick, was one of the most talked-about, sought-after musicals of 2001. Based on the Mel Brooks 1968 movie starring Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel, The Producers was able to elicit laughs from such dour subjects as the Nazis and failure.
Now, it's 2003 and The Producers is touring. Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick have moved on. In their place, we now have Brad Oscar in the Max Bialystock role originated by Lane, and Andy Taylor as Bialystock's mild-mannered, but fame-hungry accountant-turned-producer, Leo Bloom ( which Matthew Broderick originally played ) . The big question is: now that the big marquee names are no longer with the show, is it still worth seeing? Is it just as good? Yes, and respectively, no. Lane and Broderick brought with them the cachet of renown and a brand name proven quality. They rendered Bialystock and Bloom larger than life, and the laughs and appreciation they garnered were in the same category.
But The Producers, which is about a scheme to create a play that will flop so that its producers can reap a boatload of money when it closes in its debut performance, is still a great lampoon. What these two hapless producers didn't count on was that the show, Springtime for Hitler, would be a smash, and its excesses of bigotry and hatred would be seen as smart satire.
There's a lot to enjoy with The Producers and while this touring company doesn't boast household-word names in the leads, it remains a most enjoyable affair. Brad Oscar, in a lucky twist of fate, assumed the role of Bialystock on Broadway after Lane's departure. He's good … and echoes Lane in the broad comedic style and the big voice. One can't help but see in his portrayal a kind of one-generation-after copy of Nathan Lane, which is not such a bad thing. Andy Taylor, on the other hand, brings his own paradoxical blend of milquetoast and sycophant to his part. Taylor creates his own Bloom that differs from Broderick or Gene Wilder in the film version. While Taylor's portrayal doesn't have the zaniness or cartoon-like quality of his predecessors ( and thus unable to elicit the kind of belly laughs those guys did ) , his is still a sharply drawn, credible portrait.
The rest of the show, with its lightning quick timing, its ridiculously sublime portrayal of theater and the types that surround it, and its polished silliness, have not diminished. The comic excesses remain ( particularly the Busby Berkeleyesque Springtime for Hitler production number ) , the timing is right on, and the choreography and music send you out of the theater humming. It may not have the potency of the original, but it comes very close. Close enough.
On The Open Road
Playwright: Steve Tesich
At: The Journeymen at Holy Covenant Church, 925 W. Diversey Parkway
Phone: ( 773 ) 857-5393; $15
Runs through: Nov. 22
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
There's no denying that the opening image of a shabbily-dressed African-American man prepped for lynching is a vivid one. But as soon as we begin to make assumptions about the circumstances behind this shocking sight, we are diverted by the entrance of an urban vagrant pushing a shopping cart loaded with what we will learn are Works Of Art looted from museums devastated by this unnamed country's many civil wars. After much deliberation, this 'Father Courage' ( as one audience member dubbed him ) cautiously frees the prisoner.
It's fortunate that he does, since the remainder of Steve Tesich's play resembles a compilation of scenes from the annals of Buddyhood, its two heroes suggesting, at different times, Beckett's Vladimir and Estragon, The Lone Ranger and Tonto, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the Roman soldiers guarding the cross at the crucifixion and the thieves hanging beside it. While the effete Al and the earthy Angel make their way to the Land Of The Free, where the former attempts to barter their way in ( 'I bring culture!' he pleads, 'I am worthy!' ) , they swap existential ironies in the quasi-spousal bickering associated with the genre. Tesich also gives them an occasional adventure: Angel rescues a girl they must leave behind, an officer rescues them both from hanging—oh, and a priest hires them to make a hit on Jesus.
But what is Tesich trying to TELL us? That Al's treasure and Angel's compassion are useless in a chaotic world? That after suffering together, the Black Man and White Man can be friends? That behind every Significant Historical Event are a couple of little guys taking the fall? 'We just go on!' cry the hapless pilgrims, but when the Inscrutable meets the Enigmatic, what else is there to do?
Under Frank Pullen's direction, Anthony Casale and Derrick Nelson—especially the latter, whose superior visual and aural presence grants him focal advantage his every onstage moment—generate enough male-bonding cuddlies to keep us entertained, even as we founder in Tesich's literary vacuum. Charismatic actors creating interpersonal dynamics in nebulous contexts might be what theater is all about ( cf. In The Solitude Of Cotton Fields at Red Orchid ) , but its satisfactions are short-lived.
