Sunday, February 05, 2006

"And now, Ulla belt..."

Dear Mr Brooks,

It was with delight that I discovered that I had been made a present of tickets for your new musical, "The Producers". I was looking forward to an evening of charming frivolity, wit and elegance. You must understand therefore, my shock at the appalling spectacle through which I was forced to sit. I have never seen such consistent mockery of beliefs, races, creeds and religion in one production. The notion of making fun of The Second World War, the rise of The Nazis is astonishing and outrageous. The chorus girls in hotpants and brownshirts utterly bewildered the audience.

The idea of theatre impresarios chasing innocent pensioners to obtain their savings in order to invest in a production called, and I can scarcely bring myself to type the words, "Springtime For Hitler", is incredible. That such crassness is allowable in today's modern, caring world astonished me.

Needless to say I shall not be seeing this production any more than five or six times more.

Yours, appalled,

Ena B Bialystock (Mrs.)

(Editor's note) This is one of the best evenings I've had out in ages. This show was fantastic in every particular, hilarious and so beautifully tasteless it quite took the breath. I was a bit concerned that in the intervening years between the original film and now it would have been necessary to remove some of the more questionable content. By some miracle, not only had none been removed, Mel Brooks had even found space to add some more. Genius. And I'd like a chorus girl for Christmas please.


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