Experience Mel Brooks’ legendary comedy genius in The Producers at the Garrick Theatre. This fearless new revival delivers outrageous humor, heartfelt performances, and nonstop entertainment for modern audiences.
The Producers at the Garrick Theatre: Outrageous Comedy, Fearless Satire, and a Surprising Amount of Heart
If you’re hunting for a night out that delivers laughter by the truckload, you don’t need to look any further than The Producers at the Garrick Theatre. Mel Brooks’ iconic musical comedy—already legendary thanks to the original film and the hit Broadway version—has been revived with gleeful abandon under the direction of Patrick Marber. The result is a production that doesn’t tiptoe around its own audacity but instead dances right through it, waving a giant comedic flag while doing so.
In an era when people seem to get offended by even the gentlest misstep, The Producers might sound like a risky revival. After all, the plot revolves around two Jewish theatre hustlers trying to stage the most disastrous show imaginable—a flamboyant, ridiculous musical titled Springtime for Hitler—in hopes of pocketing the profits from an intentional flop. But instead of feeling uncomfortable or outdated, the show leans so hard into its own absurdity that it almost becomes impossible to take offense. Its satire is sharp but good-natured, and its comedy so chaotic that audiences simply can’t resist.
Andy Nyman, who plays Max Bialystock, explains it best. “We’ve had people come in who don’t know the story, and you can hear these shockwaves when I’m reading the script and say, ‘Springtime for Hitler.’” It’s a moment that still startles newcomers—but within seconds, the theater explodes with laughter.
And Nyman doesn’t just play Max. He detonates him. His performance is a wild storm of energy, greed, charm, desperation, and pure comedic instinct. You can practically feel his determination radiating into the back rows—he will make you laugh, whether you’re ready or not. “It’s such a ride,” he says. “If a joke doesn’t land, within ninety seconds you’ve got four more. It’s the happiest show I’ve ever done.”
A Plot Built on Outrageous Genius
For those who need a refresher, The Producers follows Max Bialystock, a once-successful Broadway giant who now scrapes by charming lonely old women for funding. When he meets timid accountant Leo Bloom—played tenderly and hilariously by Marc Antolin—the unlikely pair discover a financial loophole: they can make more money from a flop than a hit. All they need is the worst script ever written.
Enter Springtime for Hitler, penned by a pigeon-loving, delusional German fascist named Franz Liebkind (Harry Morrison). Add in the fabulously flamboyant director Roger DeBris (Trevor Ashley), a chorus line of elderly ladies marching with walkers, a Swedish bombshell named Ulla (Joanna Woodward), and dance numbers filled with campy Nazi iconography, and you have a recipe for unrestrained madness.
Nyman laughs when describing backstage life: “We have to lock away the swastikas every night. We can’t leave these massive Nazi flags lying around.” It’s the kind of detail that perfectly encapsulates the show’s world—completely inappropriate on paper, and yet absolutely hilarious onstage.
Why the Outrage Works Instead of Offends
Satire only works when it punches up—not down—and that’s where Mel Brooks’ genius shines. “What makes it palatable is Mel Brooks’ kindness,” Nyman says. “There’s nothing mean-spirited about it.” The jokes don’t ridicule victims; they ridicule fascists, ignorance, bigotry, and the absurdity of hate itself.
That kindness is what allows the show to triple-down on offensiveness and still feel joyful. Instead of feeling edgy for shock value, it feels brave in its honesty. In a time when humor is often filtered through fear or self-censorship, The Producers feels like a breath of fresh air—silly, defiant, and warm at the same time.
“We’re just dealing with archetypes and spearing them with kindness,” Nyman adds. “That’s the magic of it.”
A Role Rooted in History and Heart
For Nyman, taking on Max Bialystock carried personal meaning. Brooks’ 1967 film starring Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel was woven deeply into his childhood. Watching it with his family—especially seeing his father cry with laughter—made a lifelong impression. Later, he saw the Nathan Lane–Matthew Broderick Broadway production, which he describes as “one of the greatest shows I’ve ever seen.”
But when it came to shaping his version of Max, Nyman wanted something authentic, not an imitation. His approach was inspired by his acclaimed role as Tevye in the 2019 production of Fiddler on the Roof, where he intentionally avoided leaning into stereotypes. “Productions I’ve seen of that show can be really annoying,” he says. “People doing Jewish acting, or played like we’re tragic victims—I despise all that. It’s all in the writing. It just needs truth.”
He applied that philosophy to Max. “I think of Max as Tevye’s grandson. They’re flipsides of the Jewish immigrant experience.” Tevye’s world is burdened by weariness and survival; Max’s world is driven by opportunity and ambition. Both are defined by resilience—but one trudges forward while the other charges ahead.
Max, he says, “has been a giant success but has lost everything and is living in his office. He’s a tragic figure, but he’s also all of us, because he still aspires to do good things.”
That complexity is what keeps the character from becoming a caricature. Under the humor, there’s struggle, hope, and humanity.
A Cast Full of Chaos (In the Best Way)
Nyman doesn’t hold back when describing his fellow performers. “This is the dirtiest cast of people I’ve ever worked with,” he jokes. “Shockingly hysterical.” The backstage atmosphere is apparently just as raucous as what audiences see onstage.
But his admiration for these big, old-school showbiz personalities is real. He relates to them, too. With his own background in theatre, film, and even the world of magic—he has co-created shows with Derren Brown—Nyman thrives in creative environments filled with bold personalities and bold choices.
“I’ve not done vanilla,” he says. “I’ve spent my career playing extremes.” For him, it’s about crafting characters with deep roots so that the performances can soar as high as they need to. “If the roots go deep, then you can go huge.”
A Glimpse Into an Industry That’s Changing
There’s an unexpected reflective note when Nyman talks about how entertainment itself has evolved. “If you look at the way things are commissioned and made now, it’s the very opposite of that old-school boldness,” he says. Today, decisions are made by committees trying to avoid blame, not visionary leaders betting on creative instincts.
That’s part of why Max’s character resonates. He represents that fearless, “let’s make it happen” attitude that once shaped entire industries. It’s a reminder that creativity thrives on risk, not caution.
At Its Core, a Story About Friendship
One of the most striking elements of this revival is the relationship between Max and Leo. Under Marber’s direction, their dynamic has become surprisingly tender. Nyman calls it “a love story,” not romantic, but deeply emotional. It’s about trust, fear, ambition, and two men helping each other grow.
“It’s very rare to see a show that is genuinely about male friendship and love between two men,” he says. “Leo grows through him, and Max ends up saying, ‘I’ve never met a man I ever trusted till him.’”
It’s these emotional beats that surprise audiences most—beneath the lampooning, the slapstick, and the spectacle, there’s heart.
The Satire That Feels Essential Right Now
The timing of this revival is impossible to ignore. On press night, a far-right rally was happening in the same city. As critics pointed out, watching a fearless satire mocking fascism felt not just delightful but necessary.
Nyman doesn’t claim the show carries a political message, but the impact is undeniable. “It speaks for itself,” he says. “Laugh at it, because that is the best weapon.”
The humor deflates extremism better than any lecture could.
Comedy as a Lifeline
Toward the end of the conversation, Nyman reveals something more personal. He has dealt with a major family loss this year, and the experience changed how he views the show’s value. After performances, audience members have thanked him for giving them a night of escape—from treatment, from grief, from stress.
“The world is a bit shit at the moment,” he says plainly. “Nights are getting darker, it’s getting colder, and there’s something about being in a packed theatre where you’re rocking, crying with laughter.”
He pauses, then adds what might be the most honest endorsement possible:
“Theatre is often too expensive, too pretentious, too boring. This is none of those things. It is worth every penny.”
Final Thoughts
The Garrick Theatre’s The Producers is a comedic fireball of a show—fearless, joyful, outrageous, and unexpectedly moving. It honors Mel Brooks’ original vision while giving audiences something fresh and necessary: a reminder that laughter is resilience, satire is strength, and even in dark times, joy can be loud.
If you need a laugh—or a hundred—this is the show you shouldn’t miss.
