“The concept is simple,” says producer / writer / composer / lyricist Mel Brooks. “They’ve got to raise a lot more money than they need to put on a show. Then they’ve got to produce the worst play ever written. So they’ll put on a show called Springtime for Hitler, which will close the same night, and they can run off to Rio with the rest of the investors’ money.” It’s 1959, and Broadway is buzzing with some of the theater world’s biggest names. Producer Max Bialystock (Nathan Lane), however, is no longer one of them (“Opening Night”). One day, mousy accountant Leo Bloom (Matthew Broderick) shows up at Bialystock’s office to do his books and innocently remarks that, under the right circumstances, a dishonest man could make more money producing a flop than a hit show. Immediately, a light bulb goes off in Bialystock’s head, and he tries to persuade the reluctant Bloom to join him in his perfect plan to embezzle a fortune by producing a sure-fire Broadway misfire and then skip town with the cash (“We Can Do It”). Unsure, Bloom returns to his dismal job and fantasizes about a much more glamorous life (“I Wanna Be A Producer”). Deciding he’s had enough, he seizes the day and becomes Bialystock’s partner in crime.
Searching for the ultimate bad play, Max and Leo discover “the mother lode,” a musical entitled Springtime for Hitler—A Gay Romp with Adolf and Eva in Berchesgarten. They decide to pay the playwright, Franz Liebkind (Will Ferrell), a visit on his Greenwich Village rooftop. Before he will agree to let Bialystock and Bloom produce his play, however, the Nazi-loving Liebkind insists the two would-be producers join him in celebrating the Aryan way of life (“Der Guten Tag Hop Clop”) and forces them to pledge allegiance to Hitler.
Having sealed the deal on what they are convinced is the worst play ever written, Bialystock and Bloom embark upon securing the most appropriately untalented director. Upon entering the piss-elegant apartment of Roger DeBris (Gary Beach) and his common-law assistant Carmen Ghia (Roger Bart), the duo finds that DeBris and company are reluctant to take on such serious subject matter (“Keep It Gay”) until the producers convince them that, in their hands, Springtime for Hitler could bring the director the respect and prestige (read: Tony) of which he’s always dreamed.
When blonde Swedish bombshell Ulla (Uma Thurman) shows up at the office looking to audition (“When You Got It, Flaunt It”), Bialystock and Bloom hire her on the spot for the chorus. Until rehearsals, the panting duo agree that she’ll work as their secretary / slash / receptionist.
In order to raise the two million dollars needed to “fund” the play, Bialystock must pay a visit to his demanding benefactors, hundreds of sex-starved little old ladies across Manhattan (“Along Came Bialy”). Meanwhile, the girl-shy Bloom becomes hopelessly smitten with Ulla (“That Face”) and is surprised to find that the attraction is quite mutual.
Auditioning actors to star as the Führer proves frustrating for all involved in the production, particularly the musical’s author—who perfectly demonstrates the way the role should be performed (“Haben Sie Gehurt Das Deutsche Band?”) and proves he’s the only man for the job. Right before the opening night performance, after a lively discussion of theater-world superstitions (“You Never Say Good Luck on Opening Night”), Bialystock and Bloom are horrified when their playwright-turned-leading man literally breaks a leg. The show must go on, however, and luckily director Roger DeBris knows all the character’s lines. In the great tradition of backstage musicals, the starring role in the show goes to this last-minute substitute.