Simon Beaufoy adapts his popular 1997 film for the stage, bringing The Full Monty to The Alhambra where Leo Owen caught the show
Unlike the characters’ prospects, things look promising as the play opens on Designer, Robert Jones’ clever multi-levelled stage. Setting the scene for a low-key burglary, Jones uses a now abandoned steel works as the backdrop for every scene, acting as a constant reminder to the audience of the devastating impact Thatcher’s metal work closures had on whole communities during the 1980s.
Gaz (Gary Lucy), son Nathan (Fraser Kelly) and friend, Dave (Martin Miller) make a bumbling attempt to steal girders from their old place of employment. Desperately trying to survive on very little, they’re “revitalising the local economy… liberating, not stealing” but what should be hard hitting social commentary tinged with light humour seems to drag and dialogue has a strange echoey quality.
In keeping with its well-loved source material, the show shares its basic plot. Inspired by a touring strip act performing at the local working men’s club, Gaz forms “Bums of Steel” in an attempt to earn back enough money to pay his debts and regain visitation rights with his son.
On stage Beaufoy’s gruff Northern humour translates as twee and despite being close to its geographical home, accents are dodgy but there are still enough laughs to keep us entertained. The black humour and small touches are often the funniest with a job centre “interview tie” being booked in/out and Lomper (Bobby Schofield) puffing on his asthma inhaler moments before attempted suicide. The introduction of other group members relies on contrast for laughs with arthritic Horse (Louis Emerick), ex-foreman, Gerald (Andrew Dunn) and well-hung Guy (Rupert Hill) appearing before the interval.
The second half goes straight into rehearsals with the gang watching Flashdance for inspiration. Here, Gerald’s choreography clashes with shambolic unsynchronised moves, prompting the first audience yell of “Get yer kit off!” that acts as a catalyst for others to chant and sing. Dave “the fat bastard with two left feet”, reels out some rather obvious but chuckle-worthy one-liners. There’s humour in the unlikely appearance of Beaufoy’s strippers: one carefully folds his clothes; another sports long johns and a third is extremely skinny and pale.
Warming up in the second half, some of the show’s best scenes include a pair of robbers being confronted by the gang wearing nothing but their pants in a darkened factory; the Donna Summers’ Hot Stuff dole queue practice routine and the group watching themselves dance for the first time on the factory’s security footage.
While there are highs, the show explores a host of weighty themes that, in today’s climate, should encourage empathy: lost hope and self-respect, impotence, unemployment, poverty, depression, sexual equality, body image and homosexuality; unfortunately there’s something flat about Gary Lucy’s performance and too many inconsistent and downright awful Sheffield accents. Lucy’s relationship with Kelly is unconvincing, as are Dunn and Miller’s on-stage marriages. Emerick, Schofield and Hill are the most believable but fail to save a show that, although enjoyable, feels more well-suited to a slightly risqué retiree’s WI outing.
The Full Monty shows at Bradford’s Alhambra until February 14 before continuing its UK tour: http://www.fullmontytheplay.com/tour/