the mommy avenger

Okay, I have to set the scene for you, because this one comes with history.

Almost twenty years ago, I sat in a Broadway theater and watched Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick tear the roof off The Producers. If you know anything about musical theater, you know what that means — that was the original cast, the pairing that basically invented this show’s DNA on stage, and it is one of those “I still think about it” theater memories that never really leaves you. It set the bar impossibly high. Like, “nothing will ever compare to this again” high.

So when I found out a full-scale revival of The Producers was playing right now at the Garrick Theatre here in London, I had a full moment. Equal parts thrilled and, honestly, a little nervous. Almost twenty years later, was I really going to get to see this show again — and would it hold up against a memory I’d been carrying around for two decades?

Friends, I am so happy to report: it absolutely held up. I was just as entertained sitting in that London theater as I was all those years ago in New York, and that is not something I say lightly.

If you don’t know the story, here’s the setup: Max Bialystock is a washed-up, down-on-his-luck Broadway producer who used to be a legend and is now scraping by on the “affections” of little old ladies who fund his flops. He teams up with Leo Bloom, a timid, anxious accountant who — while doing Max’s books — accidentally stumbles onto a genius idea: you could actually make more money with a flop than a hit, if you oversell the investment shares and the show closes on opening night. So the two of them go hunting for the worst play, the worst director, and the worst everything they can find, determined to fail spectacularly. Naturally, because this is a farce and the universe has jokes, their surefire disaster of a musical — a loving tribute to Adolf Hitler called Springtime for Hitler — becomes an unexpected smash hit, and chaos absolutely ensues.

It is silly. It is over the top. It is Mel Brooks doing what Mel Brooks does best, and it works every single time.

Now, the cast. Every single person on that stage was giving it everything they had, no exceptions, no weak links. But I have to talk about two performances in particular, because they completely stole my heart.

Andy Nyman as Max Bialystock is just perfection in comedic timing. He’s scheming and slimy and somehow still so likable that you’re rooting for this man to con a theater full of little old ladies out of their life savings. He plays every big, broad moment with total commitment, and he’s got the kind of stage presence where you genuinely can’t look away from him even when there’s a full ensemble number happening around him.

And then — Trevor Ashley as Roger De Bris. Oh my goodness. If you’ve seen this show before, you know Roger De Bris is a gift of a role, the flamboyantly terrible director Max and Leo hire specifically because he’s never had a hit in his life. Trevor Ashley took that role and ran with it in the most delightful way. Every entrance got a laugh. Every line reading was somehow funnier than the last. He is a genuine highlight of this production, and I could have watched an entire show that was just him.

Marc Antolin’s Leo Bloom brings this wonderful nervous energy that makes his slow transformation from panicked accountant to confident showman so much fun to watch. Raj Ghatak as Carmen Ghia and Harry Morrison as the delightfully unhinged Franz Liebkind both got some of the biggest laughs of the night. And Joanna Woodward as Ulla is an absolute scene-stealer the second she walks on stage — the kind of performance that makes you understand exactly why every character in the show falls a little bit in love with her.

Patrick Marber’s direction keeps the whole thing moving at exactly the right pace, the choreography is sharp and funny in its own right (there’s a tap number with walkers that had the whole audience roaring), and the production design leans all the way into the absurdity of this show without ever feeling like it’s winking too hard at the audience. It trusts the material, and the material delivers.

Here’s what got me, sitting there in London: this show is genuinely, purely fun. No message, no moral, nothing you need to unpack on the drive home — just two hours of big laughs, bigger numbers, and a cast having the time of their lives. Twenty years after Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick set my expectations sky-high, this revival cleared the bar.

Now for the important part — this is a limited run, and it’s ending soon. The Producers is playing at the Garrick Theatre in London’s West End, and the run is currently set to close on 19 September 2026. If you’re planning any kind of London trip between now and then, put this on your list. Tickets can be booked directly through the official site or through the Garrick Theatre’s own box office — I’d recommend booking sooner rather than later, since a show this beloved tends to sell out its final weeks fast.

If you get the chance to see it before it closes, take it. Twenty years from now, you’ll be glad you did.