Theatre by the Sea has saved the best for last.

In the waning weeks of its season, this quaint barn theater in Matunuck has come up with a winning, laugh-a-minute run of Mel Brooks’ award-winning smash, The Producers. Clearly, it’s the best effort of the summer.

Granted, this is a show that’s a little hard to mess up, the gags are so plentiful and the twists of plot so wacky. Just drag the team of hard-luck producer Max Bialystock and mousy accountant Leo Bloom before an audience and you’ve got a recipe for some knee-slapping comedy.

But Matunuck has outdone itself here, putting together a terrific rendition of the show that can do no wrong. It is true, there is nothing particularly subtle about Jerome Vivona’s direction. Leo, who at first balks at a get-rich-quick scheme to bilk investors, is for most of the opening moments of the show a quivering basket case, clutching his tattered security blanket.

And when Carmen Ghia, part of gay director Roger De Bris’ fawning entourage, glides off stage, with a drooping hand dangling behind him, he takes forever.

But then there is nothing subtle about The Producers, or Brooks’ zany brand of vaudevillian humor. There’s no way you can stage this outrageous musical without being over the top. And Vivona has made sure that has happened.

There are times, too, when the stage seems a little cramped, in the big dance numbers and that nifty office scene, when Leo, sitting at his accountant’s desk, dreams of becoming a big-time Broadway producer, as glamorous showgirls pop from the filing cabinets. There’s barely enough room for Leo and his cohorts to squeeze into their cubicles.

On the other hand, scenic designer Robert Little has managed to fit a lot of scenery for the many set changes into a small space. The show opens on Shubert Alley, with another Bialystock production going down in flames, and Max recalling the days when he was King of Broadway.

“I had the biggest name on Broadway,” he exclaims. “Thirteen letters.”

The action then switches to Max’s cluttered office, where he and Leo hatch their scheme to make a killing by putting on a flop of a play. They plan to raise $2 million from old ladies who Max is romancing, then pocket the money when the show fails overnight.

That’s when Max goes looking for a sure-fire theatrical dud and stumbles upon Springtime for Hitler. To get permission to produce the show, he and Leo pay a visit to the Greenwich Village apartment of its author, a rabid neo-Nazi who keeps pigeons on his roof. When one of the birds named Adolph raises its wing in a salute, a little swastika becomes visible.

Even if you haven’t seen this show before, the humor is such that you can see many of the jokes coming a mile away. In a classic Brooks moment, Max and Leo are about to hire a Swedish bombshell named Ulla as their secretary. Ulla rattles off her morning routine, describing when she takes a bath, when she eats breakfast. At 11, she says, she likes to have sex.

“So what time should Ulla come to work?” she asks. And, of course, Max and Leo chime in “11,” a joke that never fails to get a laugh and that turns up more than once before the show is over.

As far as singers go, there aren’t a lot of outstanding voices on stage. But then this is not the sort of musical that calls for operatic chops, like Phantom or Evita.

But when it came to acting, the leads were impressive.

Bob Arnold is back in Matunuck after 28 years to give us a deliciously devious Max, a man who knows he’s a crook but says he can’t help himself; he’s a Broadway producer. Arnold is a real pro, someone with a great sense of timing, and plenty of presence.

Playing opposite him as Leo is Doug Trapp, who was funniest as the nervous wreck of an accountant, before he got into the producing game. There were echoes of Don Knotts in his portrayal.

Nate Suggs was a hoot, too, as De Bris, who Max recruits for his illicit project because he’s considered the worst director in town. Suggs first appears in drag, in a glittering silver gown that makes him look like the Chrysler Building, and, man, does he ham it up. And when he ends up at the last minute playing Hitler, he’s a scream.

Ditto for Bruce Warren who plays the Hitler-loving playwright Franz Liebkind and breaks into a rollicking rendition of “Der Guten Tag Hop-Clop,” clobbering Trapp each time he waves his arms.

Julia Dennis is an empty-headed but fetching Ulla.

Even in lesser roles in the ensemble, characters were nicely drawn. Jean-Pierre Ferragamo, who was so witty as the Pseudolus in last summer’s A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, turned up as a judge, and Irish cop and the cigar-chomping manager of Leo’s accounting firm.

“Do I smell the revolting stench of self-esteem?” he barked at his underlings.

Brad Musgrove is the show’s choreographer, and he has stuck to the original Broadway steps of Susan Stroman. Highlights include “Little Old Lady Land,” when Max visits a nursing home looking for backers, and encounters a bunch of octogenarians doing a tap routine with their walkers.

But who can forget the big scene in Springtime for Hitler, when showgirls parade about looking like bratwurst and a beer keg?

If you have never seen The Producers, you owe yourself the treat. But even if you know the show, this fine production makes it worth another look.

The Producers runs through Aug. 31 at Theatre by the Sea, 364 Cards Pond Rd., Martunuck. Tickets are $39-$49. Call (401) 782-8587.

cgray@projo.com