A site designed for all of the wonderful people out there in the dark and dedicated to the unabashed passion for silents, early talkies, all stars and all films.
Maybe it's the state of affairs all around us, but I've been in a particularly sensitive mood these days...for so many days, it seems. Almost anything can make me bust out in tears - usually something beautiful; a song, a moment from a film, a memory. And when it comes to comedy, I simply can no longer abide the joke cloaked in meanness.
So, here's the funny story. When I saw the topic for the CMBA Blogathon, I jumped at the chance to select "The Producers," my go-to comedy that never fails to make me laugh. However, once I started to put a few thoughts down on paper, it all seemed vaguely familiar. And no wonder. I had written about this same film in in 2012 CMBA Comedy Blogathon and in the 2018 CMBA Outlaws Blogathon. What's that quote about insanity?
Anyway, I picked it yet again, so now I'm faced with the challenge of saying something different about it. I mean really, I felt I had said it all in 2 pretty decent articles. And yet here we are again - me, Mel, Max and Leo. So, here are the links if you feel inclined to read about the film:
First, let me bow down in awe of the great Mel Brooks. Almost all of my comedy gods are gone, some long gone before my time. But, praise whoever, Mel is still here with us and I firmly believe the world is a more joyful place because he is here (that goes for you, too, Jack Nicholson, but that's a whole 'nother story).
Here's the great man accepting his Oscar for Best Screenplay (after some shtick from Sinatra and Rickles -ah those were the days when the Oscars were fun).
The tale of 2 swindlers who give us "Springtime for Hitler" is a love letter to the comedy traditions of vaudeville, burlesque and early television. It is humor put forth with the adolescent's complete conviction about what is funny. And who is braver and freer than the adolescent before the world of adults infects him or her with self-doubt? I am so grateful Mel never grew up.
The secret ingredient here - and all great comedies have one of those, don't they? - is love. The important presence of Zero Mostel as Max is offered with love for all that he is here - and all that he went through in the past. His Max is outrageous, venal, a joyous liar and an entitled thief, but somewhere in there, there is love. Somehow, one feels he is loving the moment, no matter how perilous. There is also love between Zero and his Leo (Gene Wilder, so sweet in his first big role). Mel's humor is based in love. That is why we can laugh at Hitler. That is why we can laugh at 2 Jews ditching their swastika armbands in a trashcan after they secure the rights to Franz Liebkind's Nazi-fueled fever dream of a play. Deep in our hearts we want to believe love wins.
When our hearts are so broken by the world, it takes a loving heart to mend them. And a funny loving heart? Even better. Well, leave it to that great humanitarian Mel Brooks to give us so generously what we need. "The Producers" says come play with me, come revel in the bawdy, uninhibited humor that obliterates hipness and coolness. Cleverness is merely humor without humanity. Artificial Intelligence can be clever. It takes a human being to give us Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp with Adolph and Eva at Berchtesgaden.
They're adorable, they're hysterical, they're lovable. They're desperate con men and deliberate thieves. They're Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom and they are "The Producers."
Words don't do this justice
Let me say right out of the gate: I love this film, almost above all others. It is by far my favorite comedy. Where to start?
Max gives his all for his art
In a nutshell, Mel Brooks' "The Producers" tells the story of once-successful-but-now-down-on-his-luck Broadway Producer Max Bialystock and his accountant, Leo Bloom. Max, who has produced a long string of flops of late, keeps his enterprise afloat by romancing elderly (and frisky) women to finance his next play. He's dishonorable, greedy and desperate. Leo Bloom, a timid accountant, finds an error while auditing the books for Max's last play, which presumably made a few dollars. While Max attempts to persuade Leo to ignore the error, Leo has a revelation: the books for a Broadway failure would never be audited. If more than 100% of shares were sold, who would know? And so, a dastardly scheme was hatched and a beautiful friendship was born.
Neurotic, hysterical and a budding criminal
First, the fraud. Arm-locked in the scheme to mount the worst play in the history of Broadway, one sure to lose a bundle, the pair strikes gold with something called "Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp With Adolph and Eva at Berchtesgaden." A love letter to Hitler, it is written by the proud and totally nuts Nazi Franz Liebkind. Words can not do justice to the comical discomfort felt by 2 Jews who entertain the ravings of this lunatic (including wearing a swastika before they peel it off with revulsion as soon as they are out of Liebkind's sight) in order to get the rights to his play.
Courting the author: a producer does what a producer has to do
Now that the play has been found, it is important to find just the right (wrong) cast and crew. Over the top gay director Roger De Bris is chosen and hippy-dippy, improv actor Lorenzo St. Dubois (otherwise known as LSD) appears as their perfect Hitler. There's no way this can succeed, right? The boys gleefully dream of their financially secure future with this over-sold turkey and lease some posh office space with a sexy secretary. All the while, Max continues to do his part by romancing his little old ladies and overselling shares of "Springtime for Hitler." Note here that Max is doing all the heavy lifting.
Hold Me! Touch Me! Max's couch gets a workout
Estelle Winwood is especially frisky and funny as a lady known only as Hold Me! Touch Me! (the words she coos to Max when they meet for their tryst).
Getting up close and personal with the Reich
Ah, the best laid plans. After a stunning musical number of the title song, the audience is appalled and success at failure seems assured. But wait, LSD, vamping as a totally cool and kooky Hitler, send the audience into hysterics and they view it as a comedy. Making fun of Hitler! What a concept! And just like that, the play is deemed a hit. Max and Leo are doomed and author Liebkind becomes unhinged as his Fuhrer is mocked. As Max says, "I picked the wrong play, the wrong director, the wrong cast...where did I go right?" Max and Leo turn on one another (Leo, as Leo would, wants to turn himself in), but are united again when author Liebkind tries to kill the pair and them himself, but runs out of bullets. The 3 band together to try and blow up the theater - anything to stop this success and the assault on Liebkind's hero - but are foiled and arrested. They are all sent to prison after being found not just guilty, but incredibly guilty.
Dick Shawn is a groovy Fuhrer
Have no fear. The lure of larceny and the boards can't be quelled behind bars. Our last view of Max and Leo find them mounting a prison show called "Prisoners of Love," and happily over-selling shares of the production to the prison guards. You can't keep a good con man down. A little "Springtime for Hitler" for your viewing pleasure (it never gets old):
So, that's the story. But the real joy of the film is the loving relationship of Max and Leo. Leo, timid and nervous, finds a father figure in Max, a father figure who builds him up and gives him courage. And Max, that heartless cynic who never let a good scam get by him, finds a surrogate son in Leo. He should simply dismiss the boy, but he can't because he knows Leo needs him and he needs Leo.
Partners in crime. What fun!
The jokes are just too numerous to detail. Let's just say Mel Brooks hits a home run with story, character and jokes. The story is so strong that, years later in 2001 it became a hit Broadway musical starring a brilliant Nathan Lane as Max (forget the film version of this play; stick with the original).
So, yes, Max and Leo were outlaws, but look what they and this film gave us: an unforgettable film debut for Gene Wilder, Dick Shawn at his wildest best, the Busby Berkeley-style overhead dance of in-synch swastikas of "Springtime for Hitler," the crystallization of the mad genius cinematic voice of Mel Brooks and, above all, a performance for the ages by Zero Mostel.
Like all great films, words can't convey the wonder of "The Producers." You have to see it. Hold Me!Touch Me! had it right. Sometimes you just have to say "thank you," even when you know your pockets are being picked.
This is my entry in the Classic Movie Blog Association's Comedy Blogathon. Please click here to see the entire gleefully, hysterically, deliriously funny line-up.
Great drama, action, and romance are fine, but there is no greater gift to the world than the pure joy of a good laugh that comes from way down deep.
May I seriously say that Mel Brooks is a genius? Yes? Thanks. But first, I have to stop laughing. In my lifetime there have been two great comic filmmakers who I think merit that word "genius" - Woody Allen and Mel Brooks. Now Woody, for all his hilarity, imbues his work with heartfelt meaning and ponders the hell out of the human condition. Mel, on the other hand, ponders nothing, imbues his films with offensive and tasteless jokes and sends no message, other than have an outrageous good time and laugh until you fall off your chair. And I frequently do! He is pure joy. Period.
It was hard to pick which Mel Brooks movie to write about for this blogathon: Young Frankenstein? Blazing Saddles? Even a more obscure favorite of mine, The Twelve Chairs? Each would easily fill the bill. But, in the end, I chose The Producers because, for me, it is just about perfect. After all, when a film has Zero Mostel, Gene Wilder, dancing Hitlers and Dick Shawn, how can it miss?
The Story
Max Bialystock is a broken down has-been hack of a Broadway producer who eeks out a living romancing "Little Old Ladies" who happen to have beaucoup cash to invest in his failed productions. Meek little accountant Leo Bloom discovers a minor "irregularity" in Bialystock's books. Max encourages Leo to "bury" it, but Leo has an epiphany of creative accounting and realizes that, in the ultimate Ponzi scheme, a producer could make more money with a flop than a hit by overselling shares in a production. If it flops, no one gets paid and the producer can keep the extra cash. Leo fears jail, but Max soon has him on board with the promise of the glamorous life of a Broadway producer. The two are now partners in crime. Their mission? Find the worst play ever written to ensure a flop of epic proportions.
Soon the duo finds their play: Springtime for Hitler: a Gay Romp with Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden, written by ex-Nazi Franz Liebkind. Max and Leo get the rights to this abomination from Liebkind, who claims his Hitler was just misunderstood. Max fleeces the Little Old Ladies for all they are worth and Bialystock and Bloom, after hiring Roger De Bris, the worst director on Broadway, are ready to mount their production. All they need is their Hitler.
They find him in Lorenzo St. DuBois (otherwise known as L.S.D), played to perfection by Dick Shawn. LSD's Hitler is a tripped-out Hippie with an earring who could barely complete a thought, much less conquer the world. Add the totally tasteless musical centerpiece "Springtime for Hitler," and the boys seem to be on their way to a guaranteed flop. It can't miss, or can it?
Of course it can. The play is so bad it is good and Bialystock and Bloom's dreams of wealth go up in smoke. But, you can't keep good men down, and the final scene shows them up to their old tricks in prison, fleecing the guards for shares in their inmate sensation, "Prisoner of Love."
The Cast
This once-in-a-lifetime cast is headed by Zero Mostel as Max Bialystock. While the entire cast is superb, Zero is the heart and soul of this romp through mayhem and questionable taste.
Zero's back story as a black-listed artist in the 1950s whispers in the background of the movie. Although by 1968 Zero's career was once again in full flower, his past struggles with McCarthyism were not forgotten. As the larger-than-life Max, he presides over the film like a Borscht Belt puppet master. He is one of the last looks at the great heart, spirit, and soul of a comedy tradition that was almost past.
Gene Wilder, in his first important role is unforgettable as the neurotic, nebish-y, yet slightly subversive Leo Bloom.
As the poor soul with the blanket fetish, Wilder adds a great deal of humanity to the film. His ultimately loving father/son relationship with Max is touching and he gets to utter the priceless line: "I'm wet! I'm wet! I'm hysterical and I'm wet! I'm in pain! And I'm wet! And I'm still hysterical!" Yes, Gene, you are!
Dick Shawn as LSD is a complete hoot. His Hitler is a Fuhrer who is an incompetent buffoon. He steals each and every scene he is in.
Kenneth Mars as crazed playwright and pigeon-keeper Franz Liebkind and Christopher Hewitt as the flamingly gay director Roger De Bris are outrageously funny.
Oh, and please, let us not forget Andreas Voutsinas as the ever helpful Carmen Ghia, as well as all the the lusty "Little Old Ladies" (including a very funny Estelle Winwood).
Some Classic Lines: Max: "That's it, baby, when you go it flaunt it!" Franz Liebkind: "Not many people know it, but the Fuhrer was a terrific dancer!" Franz Liebkind: "Hitler...there was a painter! He could paint an entire apartment in ONE afternoon! TWO coats!" Leo: "Let's assume, just for the moment, you are a dishonest man. Max: Assume away!" Leo: "I want everything I've ever seen in the movies!" Max: "Ooooooo I WANT THAT MONEY!" Roger De Bris: "Will the dancing Hitlers wait in the wings? We are only seeing the singing Hitlers." Max: "Leo, he who hesitates is poor." Max: "How could this happen? I was so careful. I picked the wrong play, the wrong director, the wrong cast. Where did I go right?"
Springtime for Hitler: Once you see it, you never forget it (especially the Busby Berkeley swastika formation). Written words can't do it justice. You just have to watch: (P.S: you can tell that it's 1968 - people still dressed for opening night. Now, they can show up in their pajamas.)
Legacy:
When The Producers first premiered in 1968, it was met with decidedly mixed reviews. However, its perfection could not be denied. It went on to win Brooks the 1968 Academy Award for best Story, Writing and Screenplay, has been selected for preservation by the National film Registry, and, in 2001, was transformed into a super-smash Broadway play. I was privileged to see the great Nathan Lane as Max and he did Zero and Mel proud. Again, I fell off the seat laughing. I really did! But, skip the 2005 film -it is not nearly as good as either the original play or the 1968 film.
The Producers also holds the distinction as being the first place the term "creative accounting" was used. Do you think this film was required viewing at Enron?
And in the end....
Come to think of it, I was wrong. There is a bit more at work here than zany and hilarious foolishness. Mel Brooks is the ultimate Jewish comedian and, by mocking the darkest villain of his lifetime, one who would have silenced the joy Brooks has brought to the world, he, and his entire cast, did something courageous as well as outrageous. Laughter in the end wins. Bravo, Mel!
Sometimes, the Academy really does get it right!
To sum it up, The Producers is vulgar, tasteless, hilarious and a work of comic genius. And, just so you know Mel always had his head on straight, Roger Ebert tells a story of being in an elevator with Brooks and his wife, Ann Bancroft, at the time of the film's release. A woman got into the elevator, recognized Brooks and said, " 'I have to tell you Mr. Brooks, that your movie is vulgar.' Brooks smiled benevolently. 'Lady,' he said, 'it rose below vulgarity.' "
