Broadway musicals have reinvented themselves time and again. Each incarnation tends to come from a surprising source. The latest shot in the evolution, following a trend of looking to Hollywood for inspiration, comes not from a corporate conglomerate or a British knight, but from the American Institution of Crass Humor, Mel Brooks. In an age when political correctness has pretty much killed humor by making everyone wary of offending anyone, along came Brooks. By slapping every stereotype back to vibrant life in the musicalization of his 1968 comedy The Producers, Mr. Brooks has reawakened that ability to laugh at oneself, something this world desperately needs. Along with other in-your-face offerings like Urinetown, and in sweeping 12 Tony© Awards from a few worthy candidates, a new golden age of the Broadway musical seems to be blooming, and thankfully it's not afraid to take the low road to make it's audience laugh.

As Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom concoct their "sure-fire" flop, the music is seamlessly incorporated and the complications spin wonderfully. It initially seems that the plot of the musical is basically lifted from what a survey by the American Film Institute calls the 11th funniest movie ever made. However as the second act curtain rises, the plot moves in unexpected directions, which may make hardcore fans of the movie flinch, but as a musical offering, it is sheer brilliance to keep it fresh. While I shall always worship Sondheim, I have fast become a rabid fan of Mel Brooks and his musical. Susan Stroman's tumbling pacing, grand choreography and theatrically whacky visuals are also a huge part of the success. Her willingness to share Mr. Brooks' ascorbic tongue-in-cheekiness and give it spectacular life makes her an able accomplice in this breakout farce.

Ironically, the blazing success of this show, along with its hilarious nationally televised Tony© Award presentation hosted by Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick, has potentially indelibly marked the lead roles in much the same way The King and I will always be associated with Yul Brenner. It is into these well-known wingtips and saddle shoes that veterans Lewis J. Stadlen and Don Stephenson are respectively asked to slip. For Mr. Stadlen, the success of his performance comes from his bringing his own to the evening. His is an odd-yet-compelling mix of Nathan Lane as played by Jimmy Durante. He has a gravelly voice and springy gait that directly recalls neither Zero nor Nathan, but makes his Max a devilish huckster with a tarnished-though-pure heart of gold. On the other side, Mr. Stephenson is pleasant enough, and successful to a certain extent, although it takes him until the second act to seem comfortable in schnooky Leo's skin. His voice is strong, and his dance skills impressive, but it's hard not to wish he were even a little more mousy.

The ensemble flanking these two is very professional, with only one disappointment. Angie Schworer is voluptuously appealing as Swedish heartbreaker Ulla. Her singing and dancing are treats, and when she "stroots her stooff" in her signature "When You Got It, Flaunt It," none of the men in the audience can be blamed for excessive salivation. Lee Roy Reams and Michael Paternostro make a hilarious couple as director-flambé Roger De Bris and his limp-wristed-to-a-fault assistant Carmen Ghia. Weaker is Fred Applegate's Nazi playwright-in-exile Franz Liebkind. His voice is strong and his physicalization successful, but he doesn't quite pull off the loveable menace of his role. The remaining chorus and smaller roles are all excellently portrayed and their dancing is executed without a hitch.

Robin Wagner's theatrical and self-referential scenic design is a gem. Peter Kaczorowski's lighting is great in setting every mood of this farce, and William Ivey Long's costumes go as far with a joke as Mr. Brook's dialogue and Ms. Stroman's direction.

This is one time where I can say that all of the hype is true, and missing this is not different from missing any other seminal show's initial tour like Oklahoma, Company or Phantom that has heralded the breakthrough of a new age in musical theatre. If you're easily offended, don't bother coming. And while you're at it, don't bother leaving the house, either; you're probably just spoiling it for everyone else. All others are advised to come and laugh until it hurts.