Michael Riedel

Michael Riedel

Theater

Remembering Mitch Leigh, the ‘Impossible’ dreamer

Before Andrew Lloyd Webber came to town with “Cats,” the richest composer on Broadway may well have been Mitch Leigh.

Leigh, who died Sunday at 86, wrote one hit, “Man of La Mancha,” which ran 5 1/2 years in New York. That made him a pretty penny, as did the show’s most famous song, “The Impossible Dream.” But his fortune wasn’t built on a single song or show.

Leigh was an old-fashioned showbiz mogul, who dabbled in producing, directing, promoting, advertising, jingle-writing and the movies.

“His business acumen was incredible,” said producer Manny Kladitis, Leigh’s friend and business partner of many years. “He had big, brazen ideas — very Mike Todd stuff.”

Born into poverty in Brooklyn, Leigh put himself through Yale, studying musical composition with Paul Hindemith. Not long out of school, he formed Music Makers, Inc., which became the premier jingle house during the “Mad Men” era. He oversaw songwriters who cranked out jingles for Benson & Hedges, American Airlines, Alka-Seltzer and Sara Lee.

By the time he wrote 1965’s “Man of La Mancha,” he was already a millionaire.

He then turned to producing, sending out revivals of “Fiddler on the Roof,” “Man of La Mancha” and, most lucratively, “The King and I,” with his friend Yul Brynner.

He was the first producer to promote his shows heavily on television.

“Whatever city we were in, he would blanket with TV commercials,” Kladitis says. “And then he’d insist on having at least 30 phone lines in the basement of the theater to handle the calls. He would hire students or retirees to answer the phones. It was a real boiler room.”

Leigh always played big theaters because he liked big grosses. And his grosses on 1981’s “The King and I” tour were staggering — $1 million to $2 million a week.

He and Brynner split the profits 50/50. By the time “The King and I” finished its run, each had pocketed $10 million.

They always discussed business over Cuban cigars.

Brynner was suffering from cancer by then. One night, puffing on his cigar, he said: “I’m going to die onstage, and you’re going to make a lot of money.”

Leigh leaned back, took a puff from his cigar and said, “Only if you tell me upfront. I need time to advertise.”

He made many other shrewd investments, as well. An old friend once tried to set up a movie company, but the financing fell through while he and Leigh were at lunch.

Leigh overheard the frantic phone calls and told his friend not to worry: He’d put up the money.

The company became New Line Cinemas, which produced “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” “Austin Powers” and “The Lord of the Rings.”

But despite all the wheeling and dealing, Leigh loved his music the most. Before “Man of La Mancha” played its first performance in a new city, there would be an announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen — at this performance, the ‘Man of La Mancha’ orchestra will be conducted by Mr. Mitch Leigh!”

And the maestro-mogul, clad in a black velour jogging suit, would take his place in the pit.