Not for decades has the buzz on Broadway been this loud — and never has it built from a hive of such lunacy and laughter as Mel Brooks’ rollicking frolic "The Producers," the musical that's busting everything from ticket sales to political correctness wide open. “It's a hoot,” says Ray Wills ’82, who plays no fewer than 13 roles in the smash hit — make that 14, if you count the nights he plays the lead.
Ray Wills has an every-single-day job. Except for Mondays. Mondays are this veteran actor's break from quick changing his way through 17 costumes and 13 roles in the record-breaking Broadway musical that snagged 12 Tony Awards this year, the most ever.
The show accrues big numbers. Take ticket prices, for instance. After opening night on Broadway, its producers hiked the price for most seats to $100, the highest along the Great White Way. But who cares?
Apparently, nobody at all. The day after its opening, "The Producers" sold 33,598 tickets, taking in more than $3 million. (Since then tickets sold over the Internet by third parties have been reported to go for as much as $1,400 apiece.) These are the biggest numbers in the history of Broadway.
So what in the world is driving such success? In a words: laughs. Lots of them. And almost every single one of them is about something deliciously, absolutely politically incorrect.
"I read in one interview where Mel Brooks said, ‘Don't just ring the bell. Knock the door down.’ That's the philosophy of the shows,” Wills says during an evening interview in a New York restaurant the day after the 100th Broadway performance of the megahit. “That's his way. If you don't like it, that's fine. But a lot of people like it. And if the show makes you laugh and if it makes you think about something, that's wonderful. I love that. But when Mr. Brooks decided to do this show, he knew it's serious business and serious money, as well as laughs. So he was going to make sure it was done with the best of everything. I feel very privileged to be part of it.”
The best of everything includes some big names — and perhaps the happiest, most versatile supporting cast ever. Starring Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick, with a book by 74-year-old-going-on-13 Brooks and Thomas Meehan, lyrics and music by Brooks, and directed and choreographed to goose-stepping perfection by Susan Stroman, "The Producers" is based on Brooks' Academy Award-winning 1968 film of the same name. Hailed by critics as one of the best translations of a movie to the stage, the show unfurls the story of the sleazy theatrical producer Max Bialystock (Lane) who connives with his neurotic accountant Leo Bloom (Broderick) to raise money for the most dreadful musical they can find so they can abscond with the funds when it flops. But their flop, "Springtime for Hitler," doesn't flop.
From its maniacal start to its blitzkrieg finish, the more offensive "The Producers" gets, the better. Brooks, who delights in stretching a stereotype to such lengths that the lie inside it becomes sidesplittingly funny, is an equal opportunity offender. Wills' roles, for instance, range the socially insensitive gamut from cigar-smoking, evil company boss to lilac-suited, gay costume designer to one in a gaggle of wealthy but bilked-of-their-money little old ladies. (Keep in mind, those are only three of his 13 raucous roles.)
“Ray has a lot of good moments onstage,” says Gina Austin-Fresh, Wills' former theater instructor at Wichita's West High School, who was one of the lucky few to nab tickets to the show this summer. "It's evident that Susan Stroman, for one, really respects his talent and his versatility."
As does Austin-Fresh herself, along with Wills' former theater professors at WSU, Joyce Cavarozzi, associate professor, and Dick Welsbacher, professor emeritus and director emeritus, plus Wichita and university theater pals Tom Frye and Tina Jessie Gray fs '85. Frye, who is heading to New York himself for an off-Broadway production of "Tru," about Truman Capote, says simply, "Ray's an incredible talent, a real natural." Gray, who's an actor based in San Francisco, agrees: "I worked with Ray in many shows many years ago now. I've always admired his magical ability to go from suave to smarmy to irresistible and all points in between."
Welsbacher recalls, "In college, he was way too old to play the 13-year-old boy in 'On Golden Pond.' But we stretched the role to 15, and he was absolutely convincing in it. He did everything from character roles in Shakespeare to song and dance — and he's not a trained dancer or singer. But there are things you can't teach. Ray has a certain quality that gives him an instant rapport with the audience. As soon as he walks onstage, audiences love him."
That's one trait that can be mighty handy for an understudy, especially when standing by for one of the show's stars. Wills stands by for Lane. The first time he was called on to become Max Bialystock was — no pressure here — the week before the Tonys. "I had a choice to fail, to choke," Wills says. "But I was prepared, and I couldn't let anyone down, including myself. You have to love the fear and embrace the challenge." Embrace it, he did. Both the New York Times and the New York Post reported favorably on his performances. According to the Post, "Theatergoers interviewed after yesterday's matinee praised Wills' performance. 'Momentarily I was disappointed, but Ray was wonderful …' said Helen Netter, a 77-year-old retiree from Wayne, N.J. 'It was the most fabulous show I've ever seen.'”
Netter's not the only theatergoer to hold such a high opinion of the musical. Even the harshest of its critics mustered only a few limp complaints about "one-liner fatigue" and a "sag" in the second act. And although the words "tasteless" and "silly" are bandied about, their meanings, when used to describe "The Producers," shift into the positive realm. How could it be otherwise when confronted with animatronic pigeons flapping in glittering Nazi armbands, strutting follies girls balancing mammoth beer steins and bratwursts on their heads, and a high-kicking chorus in swastika formation singing to "ev'ry hotsy-totsy Nazi"?
The musical skewers Germans, Jews, Irish policemen — in short, everyone. But the butt of its biggest joke is Broadway itself. It overflows with gags about casting couches, critics, the Tony Awards, egomania and greed, while at the same time paying tribute to scores of musicals, songs, scenes and performers. "The show is filled with references to other shows," Wills says. "The lyrics 'Gotta Sing Sing! Gotta Sing Sing!' from 'Prisoners of Love' when Max and Leo are in jail echo 'Gotta Dance' from 'Singin' in the Rain.' There are hundreds more. It's filled with them."
As over-the-top as Brooks' musical is, it's easy to miss its undercurrents. But as Cavarozzi points out, "Silly and fun can be serious, can say something about our world." And as frenzied as its zany plot, it's tempting to transfer that manic energy into the real personalities and lives of the cast members. Yet Wills, although admitting to a fast-paced "internal rhythm," strives for a balanced perspective. "There are always reminders to help keep us in balance, if we pay attention," he says. "We're inundated with what's on the Internet and TV, getting new tires for the car, interoffice politics, all the crazy, extraneous parts of life, and we stop paying attention to the basic universe. Go look at a flower once in a while, jeez."
Balance is an important guiding concept to Wills, who during his years at Wichita State focused on theater, but also studied everything from astronomy to art history. "I appreciate the fact that I got a well-rounded liberal arts education," he says. "If you're only paying attention to one area, how are you going to develop as a person?"
After WSU, Wills took an extended trip to Europe, went to graduate school at Brandeis University near Boston and then, at the age of 26, on to New York. "Ray has a lot of things going for him," Cavarozzi says. "He's very smart, has the looks, the talent. But there's a lot of talent out there. He has something beyond that. He has a commitment to the work — and he had the courage to go out there, to leave what was safe."
Wills says: "Talent is really about fourth or fifth on the list. You can be the most talented person in the world, but if you're not prepared, if you're hateful, if you don't contribute to the whole, you're not going to make it — in life, not just on Broadway. It's really clear: Give to others what you want to get back. That's what I've learned."
And the gift of laughter in the face of grief and greed, darkness and death is no small feat. Mit a bang / Mit a boom / Mit a bing-bang bing-bang boom!
