Down-on-his-luck theatrical producer Max Bialystock is forced to romance rich old ladies to finance his efforts. When timid accountant Leo Bloom reviews Max's accounting books, the two hit upon a way to make a fortune by producing a sure-fire flop. The play which is to be their gold mine? "Springtime for Hitler." Written by
Scott Renshaw <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Mel Brooks has said that one of his "lifelong jobs" is "to make the world laugh at Adolf Hitler." The film was a way to enact vengeance through comedy. "The only real way I could get even with Hitler and company was to bring them down with laughter," Brooks said. See more »
When Max wipes coffee off his window with his scarf, it becomes dirty. It is clean a moment later. See more »
Roger De Bris:
Will the dancing Hitlers please wait in the wings? We are only seeing singing Hitlers.
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This Quotable Classic is Still One of Mel Brooks' Very Best
I know more people who quote lines from THE PRODUCERS than from Shakespeare; make of that what you will! :-) That said, people seem to either love it or hate it, but most folks I know agree this nutzoid farce has, to quote groovy LSD (delightful Dick Shawn), "Love Power!" Writer/director Mel Brooks' insanely zany yet strangely sweet tale of down-on-his-luck Broadway producer Max Bialystock (the great Zero Mostel, who should have been nominated for an Oscar himself) who uses his powers of persuasion (and wheedling, and bellowing, and conning :-) to convince meek accountant Leo Bloom (justifiably Oscar-nominated Gene Wilder) to help him make a surefire Broadway flop that, if their nutty book-cooking scheme works, will land them in Rio -- or, if it doesn't work, Sing Sing. This screamingly funny, no-holds-barred comedy won Mel Brooks an Oscar for Best Screenplay and put the former YOUR SHOW OF SHOWS writer on the map as a filmmaker. Anyone trying to make a comedy depending on controversy and questionable taste for its laughs should watch THE PRODUCERS first and see how a master does it! For that matter, Mel Brooks and Gene Wilder ought to watch it again themselves; after the duds they were churning out for a while there, maybe they need a refresher course in how to be funny. (Hell, it might be as simple as them teaming up again; Wilder seemed able to temper Brooks's mania for poo-poo humor and Brooks seemed able to help Wilder to better balance out his trademark blend of shrill hysteria and sweetness.) Much as my family and I also loved the Broadway and film editions of the musical version co-written by Brooks and Thomas Meehan and starring the incomparable Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick (even though I felt that Broderick wasn't quite as good as Leo Bloom as Lane was as Max Bialystock. That said, together they have great buddy chemistry), the original is still the champ.
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