Review: The Producers

Review: The Producers | Vintage Theatre | Aurora, CO | Curtain Up | Eric Fitzgerald

Mel Brooks’ wickedly funny musical The Producers—descended from the 1967 film of the same name that first hit movie screens that year—arrives with the brazen confidence of a show that knows exactly how tasteless it is and makes that a selling point. It’s the kind of gleeful chaos that feels tailor‑made for a milestone, which is why it’s a pitch‑perfect choice for Vintage Theatre’s 200th production. Kicking off their 2026/27 season, Bernie Cardell leans into the mayhem with directorial magic that says, “Yes, we’re doing this… and you’re going to love it.”

With a book by Mel Brooks and Thomas Meehan—and music and lyrics by Brooks, who clearly didn’t trust anyone else with the punchlines—The Producers began life as the 1967 film that scandalized some critics and delighted others. Subtle it was not, which was precisely the point. Decades later, the story marched onto Broadway in 2001, where Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick turned Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom into a neurotic, vaudevillian masterclass. The production promptly scooped up a record‑breaking 12 Tony Awards, including Best Musical, proving that sometimes the most outrageous idea in the room is also the one audiences can’t get enough of.

At its core, The Producers follows Max Bialystock (Austin Terrell), a once‑mighty Broadway producer now clinging to the fringes, and Leo Bloom (Andy Ray), an anxious accountant whose talent for panic rivals his talent for numbers. A chance conversation sends them chasing an idea that’s equal parts delusion and inspiration, pulling in playwright Franz Liebkind (Evan Marquez), director Roger De Bris (Kris Graves), and a parade of gloriously eccentric personalities. From there, the show simply… escalates, in that very Mel Brooks way where the absurdity is the point and the point is delightful.

Terrell’s Max Bialystock and Ray’s Leo Bloom make an immediately compelling pair, the kind of onstage chemistry that feels lived‑in rather than manufactured. Terrell leans into Max’s bluster with a wink, giving us a producer whose desperation is matched only by his charm; he’s big, brash, and delightfully unapologetic. Ray, meanwhile, shapes Leo’s anxiety into something unexpectedly endearing, layering the character’s nervous energy with real warmth. Together, they strike that essential Producers balance: one man barreling forward on sheer bravado, the other clinging to the ledge with wide‑eyed terror, and somehow—against all logic—making it work beautifully.

L to R Andy Ray, Evan Marquez, Austin Terrell | Photography credit: RDG Photography

Other standout turns come from Marquez as Franz Liebkind, the impassioned playwright behind Springtime for Hitler, who commits to every eccentric beat with a gusto that somehow feels both alarming and endearing. And then there’s Roger De Bris, played by Graves, the flamboyant director whose mere entrance shifts the room’s oxygen; the performance is gloriously over‑the‑top in all the ways Brooks intended, adding another layer of delightful chaos to Max and Leo’s already questionable venture.

L to R Andy Ray, Helen Horecky, Austin Terrell | Photography credit: RDG Photography

Helen Anne Horecky brings a bright, buoyant silliness to Ulla, playing every moment with crisp comedic timing and a knowing wink that fits the show’s off‑kilter world. Lucus Barta, as Carmen Ghia, matches her beat for beat, layering the role with sharp, stylized absurdity that never feels forced. Together, they add an extra splash of playful chaos to the production, the kind that keeps the audience leaning in just to see what odd little flourish they’ll deliver next.

The ensemble is another major asset, tackling a carousel of characters with sharp timing and an easy sense of play. Whether popping in for a quick bit or anchoring a full production number, they move with the confidence of performers who understand that The Producers lives or dies on their collective energy. This group keeps the show buoyant, nimble, and consistently funny, proving once again that a well‑tuned ensemble can elevate even the most gleefully chaotic material.

Director Bernie Cardell steers The Producers with a wink, a nod, and absolutely no apology for the show’s proudly tasteless material. He understands that Brooks’ humor works best when everyone leans in rather than tiptoes around it, and this production does exactly that. Cardell shapes the chaos with mischievous precision—letting the outrageousness fly while keeping the storytelling sharp—resulting in a staging that feels both lovingly irreverent and unmistakably Vintage.

And of course, none of this lands without Mel Brooks’ wonderfully irreverent lyrics, which take aim at just about everything with the subtlety of a marching band. Numbers like “Springtime for Hitler” and “Along Came Bialy” remind you that Brooks never met a boundary he didn’t gleefully hop over, and this cast leans into that spirit with gusto. The songs are big, brash, and unapologetically ridiculous—exactly what they should be in a world where taste is optional, and comedy is mandatory.

Vocally, the show sits on firm footing under music director Jerimiah Otto, who keeps the ensemble crisp and the leads grounded without polishing away the musical’s intentional rough‑and‑tumble charm. Adrianne Hampton’s choreography matches that spirit beautifully: smart, playful, and just chaotic enough to feel right for a world where nothing is supposed to go according to plan. It’s movement that knows exactly when to behave and exactly when to misbehave, which is very much the point.

The set, designed by Brandon Bill, has a slightly rough‑around‑the‑edges quality that suits the show’s scrappy, anything‑goes spirit. Costume designer Sa’Daiveon Newell delivers a smart, character‑driven wardrobe that keeps the visual humor humming without ever overwhelming the performers. And lighting designer Katie Simonson provides crisp, well‑timed illumination that supports the comedy rather than competing with it—clean cues, thoughtful shifts, and a steady hand guiding the mayhem.

The Producers thrives here thanks to Bernie Cardell’s confidently playful direction, a cast that commits wholeheartedly to the madness, and material that remains proudly tasteless in all the ways Mel Brooks intended. This is a show for anyone who enjoys laugh‑out‑loud humor that isn’t afraid to swing below the belt; if you’re easily offended, consider yourself gently warned. For everyone else, Vintage Theatre’s production—running through October 11—is a sharp, rowdy, thoroughly entertaining celebration of theatrical misbehavior you won’t want to miss.

For Information and Tickets: https://www.vintagetheatre.org/performances/the-producers