THEATRE REVIEW: The Full Monty - The Opera House, Buxton.

This is the crowdpleaser of all crowdpleasers. A stage adaptation of the classic comedy film about six unemployed Sheffield men who start their own strippers troupe, “The Full Monty” bared all: both literally and emotionally; and earned a standing ovation from an overjoyed audience here at Buxton Opera House, and is produced by both the venue and Everyman Theatre, Cheltenham.

Simon Beaufoy, who wrote the original screenplay of the 1997 film, wrote this stage adaptation too; and made some very interesting choices when moving the story to a different medium. The time period has been changed to the late 1980s, partly so sound designer Chris Whybrow could feature a lot of ear-thumping music from the period, and partly to enhance the air of post-industrial decline. Margaret Thatcher, “our illustrious leader”, gets her portrait defaced on stage and her ghost haunts the overall story. Other changes were more practical: the main set is the disused steelworks that Gaz and Dave used to work in, and scenes and characters that were scattered in all different locations in the film have been reworked to be in just a few settings. Designer Jasmine Swan used a lot of semi-rusted steel in her stage structure that could be assembled and re-assembled like Meccano.

Danny Hatchard was a restless streak of energy as the entrepreneurial  Gaz, founder of male stripper troupe Bums Of Steel. As his young son Nathan, Cass Dempsey mixed sweet innocence with true Northern bolshiness, and his relationship with his divorced father prompted much cooing from the very engaged audience. Neil Hurst, as Gaz’s overweight best friend Dave, had a deadpan sense of comic timing and a solid stage presence that usually had him stealing every scene that he was in. He took all the wolf whistles from the audience in his stride.

Bill Ward was outstanding as Gerald, Gaz’s retrenched foreman who is clinging to keeping up appearances while hiding from his wife that he is unemployed. Taut with suppressed energy, he dished out his frustrations with laser focus. Jake Quickenden gave a sympathetic performance as Guy, making no secret that Guy was gay, but leading it into a more unexpected direction. Nicholas Prasad, the “pigeon-chested little tosser” Lomper, was a zestful worrier. Leyon Stolz-Hunter gave an interesting performance as the geriatric Horse: combining the lonely old man with the formerly vibrant Northern Soul dancer of a previous era – and yes, he did a terrific Funky Chicken.

Katy Dean, as Dave’s sexually frustrated wife Jean, was sincere in her love for her husband. Laura Matthews, as Gaz’s ex-wife Mandy, embodied the self-sufficiency that was the fear of the men of Sheffield. Suzanne Procter doubled in a number of roles that included an aggrieved female stripper at the Bums Of Steel auditions, and Gerald’s wife Linda – now armed with a garden gnome. Adam Porter Smith was a tersely effete Alf, landlord of the working men’s club that hosted Bums Of Steel’s debut performance.

Everything built up to the final scene of the Bums Of Steel performance. And this was where theatre trumps film. Spotlights beamed in from behind us. Tom Jones’ singing was booming out of the sound system in stereo, and the bass was so deep the walls were throbbing. And in front of us were the performers: here, live, and going for the full monty.

For the record, Hatchard, Hurst, Ward, Quickenden, Prasad and Stolz-Hunter are all very good dancers, and blazed with charisma. How could any audience resist?

Reviewer - Thalia Terpsichore
on - 26.9.23