Christmastime brought not one but two remakes about larger than life characters running amok in the streets of New York, one a worthy re-imagining "King Kong" and the other a stilted retread "The Producers" that gives it's own classic question "Where did we go right?" an all too easy answer - "Nowhere!" The Producers 2005, to be more accurate, is a film version of a successful Broadway version of Mel Brooks' beloved 1968 film classic, from which he wrote the script as well as several new songs and production numbers for the stage version. A play that enjoyed one of the most successful runs in Broadway history and in 2001 made off with a record-setting number of Tony Awards, which then begs the obvious question about this newest remake "Where did they go wrong?"

It must have looked like such a no-brainer, that director Susan Stroman (who directed the Broadway version) literally checked hers at the door and instead of making a movie, she quite literally filmed the play. Very seldom does the camera do anything other than watch the play which is perhaps the most notable place where Stroman went wrong. Even so with Matthew Broderick on board to reprise his mega-successful role as accountant Leo Bloom (the part which was "back in the day" the first of many successful collaborations between Gene Wilder and Brooks. Pencil in Nathan Lane who would reprise his "Kong-sized" stage role as Max Bialystock (the hack Broadway producer who'd probably sell his mother back to the Germans for a hit play - the part played so masterfully by Zero Mostel nearly 30 years past) Throw in Uma Thurman for sizzle and scenery and let's bring Broadway to Peoria.

If you're not familiar with the premise of the story, it's definitely worth a paragraph. After a string of failures, Max (Lane) is reprimanded by his accountant Leo (Broderick) because in order to take a little of the sting out of his latest flop he fools around with a few numbers, or as Leo calls it "cooking the books." As a flip little aside, Leo suggests that Max could probably make more money if he produced a total failure. "Cha-ching" After crunching a number or two, the idea looks like it might just pencil out. Soon obsessed with failure, the two crackpots begin their search for the worst script in town. A play so bad they'd be lucky to get through one performance before it's booed right off the Great White Way.

While sorting through a pile of potential bombs, they happen upon a play so bad, so patently awful that the beauty of it literally brings them to tears. The Play "Springtime For Hitler" by Nazi playwright Franz Leibkind (Will Ferrell, who makes a game effort). Springtime for Hitler is a fanciful musical intended as vindication for Adolph, the sort of thing they imagine that will have patrons leaving the theater on a dead run. Just to ice the deal they hire a director who speaks fluent gibberish and is accompanied by a shrieking ponce of an assistant and before you can say Fahrfugnugen they've got a major hit on their hands, which may well land the two of them in the poky.

What happens to The Producers can be summed up in the translation. Brooks won an Oscar in 1968 for the original screenplay, thanks to Wilder's painful paranoia and hushed hysterics playing off of Mostel's shameless greed and egotism. In it's translation to the stage Brooks added plenty of dick jokes and gay jokes and everything is broadened to the point that subtlety gets blown way past the guy sitting in the back row. Unfortunately the execution of the story and the Broadway musical numbers turn this into an overlong and cumbersome affair. Lane and Broderick fail to translate their stage antics into credible cinematic performances. In some instances I felt as if the two are looking at the audience puppyeyed, unsure if anyone got the joke they just attempted. It seems obvious that job one as the director would have been to tone down the stagy projection and introduce a more organic element to all of the relationships. Every punch line seems to include a laughter pause. It was also obvious that all of the decent laughs came from lines out of the original film. As previously mentioned the cinematography is virtually non-existent and Thurman's' Ulla is a cartoon character version of a Swede with an accent your average third grader could manage. The same goes for Will Ferrell's German. though he does go for it and gets a few chuckles with his constant concern about His Fuhrer not getting his proper dignity. I might also mention the ridiculous overuse of gay stereotypes prancing around like insufferable poofs, singing a double entendre number called "Keep It Gay" that is beyond the pale. As for the other numbers. Just plain boring. In fact the only good music is in the "Springtime For Hitler" production itself.

This painfully disappointing remake marks the first and probably last outing for Susan Stroman, as a director of feature film. She directs the film as if the camera is an effrontery and should only be used sparingly. The 2001 musical adaptation is packed to the brim with unnecessary caricatures, asides, stereotypes and bloated musical travesties that dilute the punch of Mel Brooks fervently irreverent humor. In my opinion, they should have been happy with the Tony's, there certainly won't be any Oscar talk surrounding this big, noisy, annoying and often offensive clunker of a film. Brooks should have known better than to trample on his own garden. Brooks himself actually gets the last word in this thing, appearing amid the chorus girls in the final production number, "Go home, he says, "It's over." Ironically there are probably a number of people that had already gone home and considering his advanced years, it's possible that "it's over' might be in reference to his career.