There's no better description of the new movie musical of "The Producers" than to call it a Christmas present -- or a present for any seasonal holiday of your choice, since Mel Brooks is an equal opportunity comic who is happy to distribute his irreverence in every direction, without regard to ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation or gender.

Andrew Schwartz, Universal Pictures Nathan Lane, left, is Max Bialystock, Uma Thurman is Ulla, and Matthew Broderick is Leo Bloom in the movie musical version of Mel Brooks' Broadway smash "The Producers." Click photo for larger image. "The Producers" Rating: PG-13 for sexual humor and references. Starring: Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick. Director: Susan Stroman. Related coverage 'The Producers' in three acts

Just like the stage musical, which has been packing them in on Broadway and the road for more than four years, the result is lots of brassy comic fun. It includes Nathan Lane at his long-suffering, volcanic best; Matthew Broderick as his comic straight man; Uma Thurman exposing her inner showgirl; lots of gorgeous girls with equally long legs; and plenty of Brooks' aforementioned irreverence.

All that's missing -- and I'm of two minds about this -- is that this is not exactly a movie. The PG sent me to review it because I've been covering "The Producers" on stage, and what I saw on the screen is pretty much what I've been seeing all along.

Nothing wrong with that, because "The Producers" is a big silly comedy about chicanery, girls, dancing Nazis and show biz, and any theater fan would be delighted to see it lavishly preserved on the silver screen. But those who don't know theater may wonder at its stagey, slightly claustrophobic cinematography.

"Stagey" is not entirely pejorative for a show all about backstage funny business. As you must know, or may remember from Brooks' original 1968 movie non-musical with Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder, Max (Lane) is a flamboyant Broadway producer short on both luck and taste (he produces "High Button Jews," "Katz" and "Funny Boy," a musical version of "Hamlet"). His mousey accountant, Leo (Broderick) comes up with a scheme to make money by producing a flop.

So they find the worst script they can, a pro-Nazi musical called "Springtime for Hitler," written by a pigeon-loving Nazi wacko (Will Ferrell), and they hire a rampant queen (Gary Beach) and his staff (Roger Bart leading a whole Village People array) to direct. But disaster strikes: The show is so bad it's a hit. Leo has come out of his shell and runs off with bombshell Ulla (Thurman), leaving Max to face jail with his Whole Life passing before his eyes.

As you'd expect, stereotypes abound. That's what we love or hate about Brooks -- political correctness or taste rarely inhibits him. He speaks directly to the adolescent in us all.

Unfortunately, someone has inhibited him and director Susan Stroman here, since a number of ethnic jokes have been trimmed, especially the black gospel-singing accountant and black Irish cop, along with some of the raunchier language, a concession to Hollywood squeamishness.

Two forgettable songs have been added and three have been cut: "The King of Broadway" (with its controversial Anglo-Saxon verb), "In Old Bavaria" and "Where Did We Go Right?"

As to opening up the stage geography, there's very little -- just some lovely shots of the theater district in 1959 (artfully re-arranged), a view of the audience at "Springtime for Hitler," a taxi ride and the addition of the Bethesda Fountain as the place where Max and Leo bond. (That's a good joke, when you think of the fountain's important role in another stage triumph taken to the screen, "Angels in America.")

We don't see Max and Leo in the actual city, though -- that's what I mean by claustrophobic. Everything looks like a stage set on steroids, especially the chorus groups, which have tripled or quadrupled in size.

In this, there's a special treat for theater fans. Shooting in New York, Brooks and Stroman took advantage of Broadway talent. Ferrell, Thurman and Jon Lovitz are really the only casting concessions to Hollywood. In smaller roles or ensembles, the theater fan can spot Debra Monk, Brad Oscar, Fred Applegate, Ronn Carroll and Karen Ziemba, not to mention Pittsburghers Brent Barrett, Jason Antoon, Craig Waletzko, Harry Bouvy, Colleen Dunn, Pam Bradley, Bobby Pestka and probably others.

It's a throwback movie musical, with a good dollop of Stroman's inventive choreography, including the adding-machine ballet of the accountants and walker tap of the Little Old Rich Ladies (note all the famous names living in the Park Avenue apartments Max solicits). William Ivey Long's costumes are as funny as ever.

Best of all, this big, stagey movie allows Lane to be broad and brilliant, more than once even seeming to channel the immortal Mostel. As a theater lover, I hope it draws.