And last but not least, I had to thank all of the producers of The Producers.
“Behind me you see a phalanx, an avalanche of Jews who have come with their talent and their money. But most of all, their spirit and their love for the theater. And that’s what brings us all together tonight. We all love this thing called the theater. And I’m so proud to be a part of it. I’m not choking up. I’m just dry. But I just want to thank everybody behind me. It would be foolish of me to try and name them all. You should’ve worn signs…God bless you all. It’s been wonderful working with you. See you next year!”
There are certain nights in your life that you would call “a night to remember.” For me, that was certainly one of them.
On a New Year’s Eve during the run of The Producers on Broadway I decided to surprise Nathan and Matthew by sneaking in and appearing onstage as the judge in the courtroom scene. The judge’s lines went like this:
JUDGE:
Gentlemen, it breaks my heart to break up such a beautiful friendship. So I won’t.
[Slamming down his gavel.]
Five years in the state penitentiary at Sing Sing! Court adjourned!
So unbeknownst to Matthew and Nathan, but knownst to some sharp members of the audience, I donned the judge’s robes and took my place onstage at the judge’s bench. Whispers and murmurs began to spread throughout the audience and there was a definite buzz in the courtroom. Obviously, a few people in the audience had spotted me. Matthew and Nathan were puzzled and looked around, not knowing what was happening. It all became clear, shocking, and funny when I read the judge’s lines with my own twist on the dialogue:
ME AS JUDGE:
Gentlemen, it breaks my heart to break up such a beautiful friendship. So I won’t.
[Slamming down his gavel.]
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS in the state penitentiary at Sing Sing! Court adjourned!
When they heard “TWENTY-FIVE YEARS” they were shocked! They looked up, saw me, and burst into laughter. I’m happy to say I got a small ovation for my one and only acting turn in The Producers.
* * *
—
The Producers musical is a gift that keeps on giving. Since its birth on Broadway, it has played in many languages in many cities and countries all over the world. One of the most exciting runs was at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane—one of the most historic and beautiful theaters right in the very heart of London’s West End. The Drury Lane traces its history all the way back to 1663; it was closed for the plague, burnt down, rebuilt, and rebuilt again in 1812 where it still stands today as a splendid monument to British theater. Somewhere hidden behind the second balcony is a special toilet, just for the use of the queen. (I must confess that on an emergency occasion—I used it. But please don’t tell anyone!) Stro put an incredible cast together for the London production. Leading them was the wonderful British comic and actor Lee Evans as Leo Bloom and as Max Bialystock the talented American actor Richard Dreyfus, best known for his roles in movies like American Graffiti (1973), The Goodbye Girl (1977), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), and Jaws (1975). At one of the early rehearsals in London, Richard threw his back out—badly. He valiantly struggled to carry on and promised Stro that he’d be ready on opening night, but Tom and I could see that it would take more time than we had for him to be fit to perform by opening night. So we asked Stro to call Nathan Lane and beg him to come over and save the show.
When Stro called Nathan I put my ear next to the phone, praying that Nathan would say yes. I grew desperate when I heard Nathan say, “No, not in a million years. I need a break from Max Bialystock. I can no longer do that part.”
I didn’t know what to do; I was panicking. Then it came to me and I whispered in Stro’s ear: “Cry.”
She held her hand over the phone and said to me, “What?”
I said, “Start crying! He’s a softie! He won’t turn you down.”
She said, “I can’t.”
I said, “You must! Cry, cry!”
So Stro said in a tearful voice, “All right, Nathan, I understand. I don’t blame you. I still love you.” Her cries growing with each word.
There was a long pause on the phone. And then finally I heard Nathan angrily shout, “All right, dammit. I’ll be there on the weekend.”
Stro said a brief thank you and hung up and then Tom, Stro, and I held one another and both laughed and cried joyously. Nathan was coming to save the show!
And boy, save the show he did! The Producers opening night at the Drury Lane on November 9, 2004, was a triumph for the ages. A lot of the audience were standing on their seats and screaming bravos to the rafters. We all had to make speeches, and I got a big laugh when I said, “So much for British reserve!”
If possible, the London notices for The Producers were even better than the New York ones. The Independent called it “an epidemic of bliss” and The Guardian said, “What is its secret? At its simplest, it puts the comedy back into musical comedy.”
So in the end, it was worth it for Nathan to come over to London. He not only got standing ovations every night and great reviews, but he went on to win the coveted Olivier Award for Best Actor in a Musical and our show was honored as the Best New Musical of the year.
Stro and me, showing off two of the twelve Tonys that The Producers won that night—the most Tony Awards ever won by a musical in Broadway history.
* * *
—
Another truly memorable production of The Producers was at the world-famous Hollywood Bowl. It was the biggest theater that we had ever played, and I knew that we needed one of the biggest Max Bialystocks who ever played the part in order to have an actor who could reach the back row. There was only one name on my list—the multitalented, hilarious, and very loud Richard Kind. And what a great job he did! The Hollywood Bowl was packed for three nights under the stars with, believe it or not, seventeen thousand people in the audience. The laughs were so tremendous that they actually shook the stage. What an event! After the curtain call, I came up onstage to take a bow and say a few words. I got a standing ovation topped by a roar of approval from all seventeen thousand people. I secretly said to myself, “Maybe I should run for president? Seventeen thousand votes! That’s a good beginning.”
* * *
—
The Producers was the most wonderful and at the same time the most challenging thing that ever happened to me. It reached such great heights that it would seem impossible to write anything else that would ever come near it—but eventually I tried. It happened just after I lost Anne. She had struggled with cancer for several years, but in 2005 she lost her battle. For a long time, I was inconsolable. It was hard to wake up and live through the day.
Tom Meehan and Susan Stroman pulled me out of my depression with the same advice I had given to Stro when her husband, Mike, passed away.