Review: The Producers
On the big stage of the Helsinki City Theatre, there is a lot of tearing
THE PRODUCERS ARE THE PEARL OF CRAZY HUMOR
Director Neil Hardwick has assembled a group for his production that has no weak links. The musical comedy, greased with crazy humour, rolls smoothly thanks to its lively choreography, juicy dialogue and diamond cast. The performance is a gourmet of musical entertainment, and it milks honey for the 100-year-old Helsinki City Theatre.
Entertainment veteran Mel Brooks‘ evergreen musical The Producers tries to twist steamy humor for Hitler regardless of age and without sparing sexual orientations.
The musical’s scriptwriter, composer and lyricist Brooks does not bow down to images. He can also laugh at himself, i.e. his Jewishness.
In the story, Brooks and co-screenwriter Thomas Meehan throw thorns at theater makers, homosexuals, and old wealthy grannies who like naughty games.
We have always been able to make fun of Swedes, Germans and dialect speakers.
Mel Brooks dares to throw even the most sensitive topics into the ring and laughs at them – and that, if anything, really requires a dick.
Brooks, a Polish Jew, squats over Hitler’s shoulder with his empire and holy ceremonies.
Director Neil Hardwick has got his group into a hilarious ride. The rhythm is firmly on point and the whole ensemble loosens up with excitement.
Virile grannies
The Producers jumped straight from their New York premiere (2001) to the hit charts.
The story is about theatre producer Max Bialystock (Esko Roine), who relies on virile grannies whose wallets Max occasionally pops into.
In this symbiosis, it is not the seniors who are the underdogs, but Bialystock himself, who rewards his financiers with false teeth on the sofa of his office.
One day, accountant Leo Bloom (Antti Timonen) arrives at the apartment, who happens to half-carelessly reveal how to get rich with a floppy play.
Bialystock talks around a young wet ear, and the producer couple sets out to find the world’s worst play with the world’s worst cast.
The Swedish Barbie Ulla (Anna-Maija Tuokko) is glowing, and she taps herself as a men’s secretary with the dream of playing the star role of her life.
The play flick by neo-Nazi Franz Liebkind (Risto Kaskilahti) is exactly what the men have been looking for, and the-clad Roger de Bris (Santeri Kinnunen) is just the right choice for the director.
The choice of actors who are worse than bad is a number in itself. (I wonder if the residents of the Maikkari BB house come from these qualifiers?)
Stepping choreography
The production of The Producers musical is a real soup of clichés on the stove with its effervescence and burning to the bottom. The soup is still juicy.
With unbridled ingenuity, Neil Hardwick brings to the stage a lustful horde of walker grannies advancing like a pink tidal wave, gay actors imitating the band Village People, female soldiers of the SS Army in miniskirts that touch the water’s edge, and the grandiose spectacle of the Third Reich, which blows the mood to the ceiling with its exaggeration.
The show scraped together by the producers is not a total flop after all, and this is the start of a galley polska that tests the friendship of the men.
Markku Nenonen’s snappy and precise choreography launches an impressive dancer-actor-singer gang on stage that is the best A-class.
The swastika formed by dancers tapping reflected at the back of the stage is unprecedented.
Jyrki Seppä’s glorious set design and Elina Kolehmainen’s magnificent costumes deserve applause.
Delicacies from Häme
Esko Roine will hardly be able to retire in time – a rolling stone does not grow moss.
When an actor’s artistic course is high and his condition is demonstrably in order, a masterful performance comes out of a man. The absolute gem of the evening is the song Voi no!
Antti Timonen Leo Bloom is innocent, mouse-like and very human when he fiddles with a small, blue rag. A great opponent for Roine.
Anna-Maija Tuokko from Viiala deserves her spurs in the play. Tuoko has developed into a comedy that we still hear about often.
Carmen Ghia, played by Lari Halme, is the muse of a gay director, whose shaft is a kind of whip that bends but does not bend. Elastic Halme is made of a mass that seals the structures of even the most boring play. Now, however, there is no need for that.
Risto Kaskilahti is phenomenal in his leather pants, and Santeri Kinnunen shines in his glittering dress.
Oh yes, and where do the Roines, Halmes and Tuokkos come from?
Pundits Jukka Virtanen and Kristiina Drews play with references to Tampere in their Finnish translation.
Oh girls and boys, we in Finland know how to make musicals!