All about Me!: My Remarkable Life in Show Business



So for our next session I came back with a new intro for the song; it went like this:

MAX BIALYSTOCK:

What did Lewis say to Clark when everything looked bleak?

What did Sir Edmund say to Tenzing as they struggled toward Everest’s peak?

What did Washington say to his troops as they crossed the Delaware?

I’m sure you’re well aware!

LEO BLOOM:

What’d they say?



Max then launches into the song:

MAX BIALYSTOCK:



    We can do it, We can do it

We can do it, me and you

We can do it, We can do it

     We can make our dreams come true

Everything you’ve ever wanted, is just waiting to be had

Beautiful girls wearing nothing but pearls

Caressing you, undressing you, and driving you mad

We can do it, We can do it

This is not the time to shirk!

We can do it, You won’t rue it

Say goodbye to petty clerk

Hi, Producer

Yes, Producer!

I mean you, sir, go berserk!

We can do it, We can do it

And I know it’s gonna work!



The song was uplifting and exciting and it moved the story forward. By the way, I got a wonderful compliment on one of those lyrics from one of the greatest Broadway lyricists of all time: Stephen Sondheim. He said, “Mel, I really enjoyed your rhyming ‘Delaware’ with ‘well aware.’?”

The next big step was casting, but Tom, Stro, and I had decided way in advance that there was only one person who could fill Zero Mostel’s shoes on Broadway…

Nathan Lane was at the Ritz Hotel in Paris in 1998. When he came down to go swimming, there were only two other people in the pool: Anne and me.

He said, “Hi, kids.”

Talk about things being meant to be! After the three of us chatted, Anne went up to our room and I immediately talked to Nathan about playing the Zero Mostel role of Max Bialystock on Broadway. It turns out that The Producers was one of his favorite movies, and the idea of playing Max Bialystock really appealed to him. Just like with me offering Gene Wilder the role of Leo Bloom for the movie, a couple of years after that first lucky conversation with me offering Nathan the role of Max Bialystock, we were in rehearsals with Nathan Lane in the lead.



* * *





    We had scheduled a backers’ audition reading for April 9. The backers’ audition is where you play a staged piano reading of the show in order to get the money people interested in investing in it. We went full steam like a runaway train developing the script right up until April 9. Everything was going well and then a week before we were hit with bad news.

David Geffen had to bow out as our producer. I think he must have been much too busy running his new film company, DreamWorks. But I shall be forever grateful to him for being the spark that ignited the whole show.

Stro, Tom, Glen, and I were considering canceling the backers’ audition, but since we had everything lined up except for now needing producers, we went ahead. We got on the phone and called every producer, theater owner, and theatrical investor we knew. Believe it or not they all showed up. So there at Nola Studios on Fifty-fourth Street on Sunday April 9 we gave the world its first glimpse of a brand-new Broadway musical comedy, The Producers.

When we arrived at Nola Studios I looked out through the window and saw huge white snowflakes. Wow, how unusual. It was snowing in New York in April! I didn’t know if it was a good omen or a bad omen or maybe no omen. It didn’t last long; the big white snowflakes melted as soon as they hit the ground. Anyway, everything on that fateful day stuck in my head, even the snow in April. So I thought I’d mention it.

For the reading we assembled a cast that included Nathan Lane, Gary Beach, Cady Huffman, Mario Cantone, John Schuck, Nick Wyman, and Evan Pappas. The backers’ audition went beyond our wildest dreams. At the end of the first act our audience broke into cheers and applause. Before we could start the second act, we were besieged by an avalanche of Broadway producers who all wanted to be involved in the show.

The most exciting offer was from Rocco Landesman, who since 1967 was the president of the Jujamcyn Theater Group. He was so excited at the end of act I, he said, “If I can be one of your producers, you have the St. James Theatre if you want it.”

    Wow, the St. James! One of the most sought-after theaters on Broadway. So many memorable Broadway musicals had played there like Oklahoma!, Hello Dolly, The King and I, The Pajama Game—just to name a few.

I said, “It’s too good to be true!”

Then Tom brought me down to earth. He said, “Never go by the reaction of audiences that consist of family and friends, and especially people that haven’t paid to get in. That is one of the most important rules of the theater.”

But still, the St. James Theatre! My spirits were soaring. We were on our way.

In addition to getting our producers and our backers, the reading also showed us where the show needed tightening up. Stro was really invaluable in that. I had created these characters, but she knew there was more about them in my head that I hadn’t revealed yet. The big lesson I learned was that Max and Leo have to sing and dance about their wants, needs, and dreams rather than do it just through dialogue. The music drives the emotion. That was a huge revelation. And in the musical more than the movie, you root for their friendship and their success as failed producers because the emotions are being heightened by the music. Stro showed me what the audience wants from a musical comedy on Broadway. It has to sing. It has to dance. It has to have beautiful girls. It has to look splendid. It has to be funny. It has to be rich. And always entertaining. She showed me all of that. It has to really thrill the audience for two hours. So together we worked toward thrilling the audience.

For example, I wasn’t so sure about a tune I wrote called “Along Came Bialy.” It’s about how much Bialystock meant to his bevy of little old lady show backers. I told Stro that I really wasn’t happy with it and I wanted to throw it out and start from scratch with another tune.

Stro said, “No, no, no! I have a good idea for that song.”

    “A good idea” was putting it mildly. She had a brilliant idea. She put the little old ladies in walkers, and they did an amazing tap-dancing routine with them singing their hearts out with love for Max Bialystock. A song I was going to throw out became one of the real high points of the show.

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