Frontmezzjunkies reports: Richard Kind, a new West End Bialystock, and the Menier’s Next Chapter
By Ross
The news that Richard Kind will take over the role of Max Bialystock for seven weeks starting March 23rd in the West End revival of The Producers at London’s Garrick Theatre feels exactly like that kind of theatrical good fortune. He’s a well-known commodity of high comic proportions; a performer whose acting instincts thrive on beautifully controlled conflict and chaos. Kind seems tailor-made to slide into this wonderful production, one that is already built on joyful excess and razor-sharp timing.
Having caught the show during its celebrated run at the Menier Chocolate Factory (click here for the full review), I remember how completely the revival embraced the musical’s “ridiculously delightful and funny notion.” The staging organically understood that the brilliance of Mel Brooks lies not just in his outrageous jokes (which there are bucket loads), but in the devious precision underneath it all. Directed with what I described then as “effervescent fun and joy,” the production threw controlled ridiculousness at the audience with infectious confidence, making the slim Menier stage feel bigger and much bolder than I could have ever expected.
At the center of it all is the deliciously crooked partnership between Bialystock and Leo Bloom, currently played by Marc Antolin, whose endearing optimism fuels the show’s comic engine. Watching the musical unfold felt like witnessing “a perfect mix of silicious scammy silliness,” where every bad decision somehow lands as theatrical gold. Kind’s long history of portraying men teetering between bravado and panic suggests a Bialystock that may lean even further into that glorious instability, a producer whose schemes feel both outrageous and oddly human.
More than anything, this casting signals a revival still alive to reinvention. When I left the theatre, it felt like “an irresistible celebration of humorous absurdity and theatrical golden glory,” and bringing Kind into the chaos only strengthens that promise. For audiences lucky enough to catch this limited run, the con may be familiar, but the laughter promises a slightly different shade of chaos.
What makes this moment feel even more satisfying is how neatly it reflects the quiet influence of the Menier Chocolate Factory itself. One only has to look at its history to see how often this small Southwark venue sends productions out into the world after refining them in that compact, deceptively modest space. My favourite Sunday in the Park with George started here before conquering the West End in 2006 and Broadway’s Studio 54, and that’s just one of the many examples you see in the Menier‘s display case. The Producers now stands as another that made that journey from boutique revival to West End crowd-pleaser.
Even as Richard Kind (Broadway’s The Tale of the Allergist’s Wife) prepares to step into Bialystock’s well-worn shoes at the Garrick, the Menier is already turning its attention forward, announcing a new revival of Peter Shaffer’s Equus, starring the impressive Toby Stephens (West End’s Private Lives) as the haunted psychiatrist Martin Dysart. If Brooks’ musical represents theatrical mischief at its most exuberant, Equus promises something far more searching and psychological, suggesting that a theatre’s programming thrives on bold tonal swings as much as dependable transfers.
That contrast feels oddly reassuring. One production moves outward, growing larger with each new audience, while another begins again inside the same intimate walls where risk still feels possible. Having watched The Producers ignite there before its transfer, it is hard not to feel a little excited about what fire might strike next. For now, Richard Kind’s limited engagement offers London audiences a fresh excuse to revisit a gloriously ridiculous musical con, while somewhere across the Thames a very different theatrical experiment quietly prepares to take its first steps, and maybe I’ll be reporting on that one this spring. Regardless, the scheme, it seems, never really ends. It simply finds a new stage.
