I went to see The Full Monty with my Dad, and it was an experience
By Kate Brayden
When Peter Cattaneo’s 1997 film version of The Full Monty came out, it was a breakout hit for the way in which it struck a chord with its irrepressibly English humour, and the way in which it captured the deep feeling of shame which overcame men in 1970s Britain who were rendered unemployed by Margaret Thatcher’s closure of the steel factories (seen in Billy Elliot also).
Making over $250 million in the box office, it was both commercially successful and critically acclaimed for its original storyline, self-deprecating script and unique take on masculinity during the 1970s in the UK. It went on to receive four Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture and Best Director, and took home the gong for Best Original Musical Score.
So it certainly has a lot to live up to, to say the least.
David Pugh and Dafydd Rogers are now touring around the UK and Ireland with their own stage version of Simon Beaufoy’s original play, which has won the UK Theatre Award for Best Touring Production, and is definitely worth the viewing before it finishes its final ever run in 2019.
It stars Gary Lucy in the protagonist role (played by Robert Carlyle in the original flick) who has previously been seen in British television roles on East Enders, Hollyoaks, The Bill and Dancing on Ice. Lucy steps into the part of Gaz, an irresponsible but lovable Sheffield lad who has the slightly deranged but hugely entertaining idea of creating a striptease act when him and six other steelworker friends lose their jobs.
Out of work and impoverished, Gaz is desperate to get some cash fast when his ex-wife threatens to take full custody over his son, Nathan, played brilliantly by Fraser Kelly.
The acting dynamic between Lucy and Kelly is striking, with their relationship both heartwarming and comical as Nathan shows far more maturity than his father, and even claims to be the manager of the strip group.
Each character has a shining turn, from Horse the oldest man being the best dancer despite an arthritic hip, to Lomper’s adorable, vulnerable character who is introduced at the start through a suicide attempt (how they made this funny I have no idea.), each man gets to show his talent and charm throughout.
The sense that the men really do have nothing to lose adds a sense of poignancy to their humour, and it’s impossible not to root for them. Kai Owen steals the show as Gaz’ best friend Dave, who takes a fair amount of coaxing to get up onstage, feeling inadequate and overweight in comparison to the other men.
I also wanted to hug Lomper throughout, Joe Gill shines in the role and captures the dopey but affable depressed character who finds his only friends in the strip tease group. Andrew Dunne plays the role of the ‘Conservative’ Tory Gerald who becomes on a level playing field with the lower class men when he also joins the turbulent world of unemployment, and later becomes their dance teacher, as well as their friend.
The class issues are mainly played out through his character, who Tom Wilkinson famously portrayed in the film. There is a clear divide between the snobbery of the Thatcher’s middle and upper class Conservatives, and the more impoverished Northerners, the resentment of her is made apparent throughout. Another important aspect of the work is the sense of emasculation through the loss of their jobs.
Each male character has his own insecurities which he must face, among them are medical problems, lack of body confidence, unsatisfied wives, an angry ex-wife and hidden sexual orientations. Father’s rights, impotence, mental health and working class culture.
The levels which the men will go to for his own feeling of pride and masculinity are what unify the six men, and they get through their own struggles through their friendship and strange sense of empowerment which they achieve through taking their clothes off for a lot of screaming women. Seems legit.
The stage version was different to the film in the way that it appeared to be marketed towards a female audience, rather than male. The film had a grit and more subtle sense of humour about the actual nudity than the show itself, but the atmosphere of the Gaiety and unabashed excitement of every woman in the theatre made the cast light up. Songs from iconic acts like Hot Chocolate, Donna Summer and Tom Jones frame the quick and colloquial witty script, and the set was excellently transformed from a steelyard rehearsal space to a bar to a Conservatives country club in seconds by the backstage crew, and the cast moved effortlessly around it. Its not surprising that the 2018 tour is directed by a former Full Monty 2014 cast member, Rupert Hill.
There was enough X-rated jokes to last the entire year, which took a little bit away from the important underlying themes of the script itself, but you couldn’t help but laugh throughout despite this. The comic timing was on point, the music was perfection and the individual stories and humour of each character really made the audience believe in their friendship.
They were honestly having the time of their lives onstage, and the audience couldn’t help but join in. We also got a great element of audience participation for the finale, which was hilarious until I realised that I was sitting with about 500 squealing women and my elderly father, who was supremely uncomfortable, but seemed to still enjoy himself.
He needed a pint after…but still. He had shown me the original movie back in 2002, when I was far too young, and I had to repay him by taking him to see the stage version.
In my defence, there was far less nudity in the film, I swear.
Shoutout to the woman beside me who stood up and squealed when they threw their tops into the audience and grabbed the sweaty tank top from my grip (I caught it out of instinct okay!!! I wasn’t reaching…)
Overall, 10/10 would recommend to a (probably female) friend.
The cynic in me will whisper that it isn’t as good as the movie, but that would have been next to impossible.
It adapts excellently to the stage, and retains most of the same hilarious humour and touching themes. Whatever you do, just save yourself the awkwardness and don’t bring your dad. Trust me.
