WHERE did we go almost right? – as Max and Leo (almost) used to sing in “The Producers.” The new Mel Brooks/Susan Stroman musi cal extravaganza “Young Frank enstein” is nearly very good indeed – but it is not the “The Producers.”
It has the same bloodlines – a Mel Brooks musicalization of a classic Mel Brooks movie staged by Susan Stroman – hence the hype, not to mention the expectation of premium ticket prices.
It also has a great comic lead in Roger Bart as that virginal Dr. Fronkensteen being transported to the dark side of the moon.
But this story – a dazzlingly affectionate spoof of all the Boris Karloff movies that ever karloffed – does not lend itself to stage adaptation in the way of the earlier movie.
There is no Hitler to have a Springtime, and, as a cult movie, “Young Frankenstein” owed a terrific amount to the personas and performances of the entire movie cast, particularly the goggle-eyed, cockney Marty Feldman as Igor the hunchback and Gene Wilder as the eponymous hero, Frederick Frankenstein.
When you trade on a legend, you have to match up. “Young Frankenstein” does not – quite.
Now for the good news.
In telling this tale of a young scientist who sets sail for Europe on the H.M.S. Queen Murray to reluctantly join the family business of making Monsters in darkest Eastern Europe, Brooks and Stroman pull out every stop.
Despite music that’s more ho-hum than hummable, Brooks’s lyrics are bright and witty.
Better yet, the book – maintaining virtually all of those iconic quotable quotes – does a great job, with the assistance of co-writer Thomas Meehan, in transferring the original script to the stage.
An even greater job is done by Stroman whose staging, choreography and supervising of special effects manage to suggest the Broadway musical at its dizziest, glitziest and funniest. In her entire career, Stroman has done nothing better – she even outproduces her work on “The Producers.”
Her choreography has a divine silliness that totally realizes the movie’s original concept, while the burlesque of an entire Astaire routine topping the famed “Puttin’ on the Ritz” episode has a touch of manic genius.
The delicious scenery by Robin Wagner and equally apt costumes by William Ivey Long are matched by Peter Kaczorowski’s evocative lighting and the sound design by Jonathan Deans (yes, like the movie, the horses still whinny on cue for Frau Blucher). As for the special effects by Marc Brickman, the spectacle of Frankenstein’s journey to the castle in a hay-cart – I suppose that’s an effect counted as special – was among the cleverest things I’ve ever seen onstage.
The cast works valiantly and, in part, successfully to erase all memory of the silver screen.
It would be unrealistic to reproduce in a musical Wilder’s comic yet poetic intensity as the hero, so Brooks and Stroman have nattily reimagined him as a beguiling, bewildered Broadway song-and-dance man, and Bart is nothing less than terrific.
Christopher Fitzgerald is also pretty good at catching the amiable grotesquerie of Feldman’s original hunchbacked henchman Igor – although his cockney accent seems to vary as much as that movable hump.
I loved Andrea Martin’s formidable housekeeper, Frau Blucher, while as the ladies unsheltering Frankenstein’s love life, Sutton Foster (who knew this wonder could yodel?) and Megan Mullally proved distinctive delights.
Finally there was Shuler Hensley, fine as the Monster who loses his pizazz to acquire a brain, and Fred Applegate in a neat double as the stiff Inspector Kemp and the blind Hermit seeking love and a sense of direction.
So, is “Young Frankenstein” worth $450 for “premium seats” (you also get a glass of Champagne, a souvenir program and maybe even pretzels)?
Well, I understand from the press release that “$25 orchestra seats will be available at most performances.” At that price the show would be a bargain, even if the seats are in the orchestra pit. You would even have money left over for a soda during intermission.
Hilton Theatre, 213 W. 42nd St.; (212) 307-4100.