The Full Monty bares all

So what is the first thing you want to know about The Full Monty? Do they take all their clothes off? Yes. Can you see everything? It depends.

Most importantly, is the Two One-Way Tickets to Broadway production any good? Let me put it this way. All the bills will get paid, and then some.

The Full Monty, which opened last Friday at La Cité Francophone, is about an amateur group of strippers looking to make some extra cash. It opened to an inferno of applause.

Adapted from the 1997 Brit flick about unemployed Sheffield steelworkers, the musical has been Americanized and set in Buffalo, N.Y. While the location has changed, the themes remain intact – emasculated, out-of-work, out-of-shape men venting their sorrows in tune.

The score isn’t exactly a sophisticated Sondheim treat or an urbane Rogers and Hart creation. However, David Yazbek’s catchy pop score is punchy, sentimental and effectively articulates the blue-collar men’s despair, their frustrations and disappointments.

This three-hour crowd pleaser is at times corny, formulaic, brassy and crude. But it’s all blanketed with an honest, heart-warming affection.

The Full Monty wastes no time as it opens with a sassy striptease from Chippendale Keno Walsh, played by Adam Sanders, a charming rogue of an actor who puts the audience in the right mood for the evening.

The economy has tanked and Jerry (Brian Christenson) and his buddy Dave (Jordan Ward) are struggling with loss of job, loss of dignity, loss of identity and serious marriage issues.

Jerry, who is about to lose joint custody of his son for being four months behind in child support, organizes an all-male stripping troupe with his buddies. His closest buddy is Dave, an easygoing, overweight husband who has taken over the household chores – formerly women’s work.

Throughout this play of self-discovery, the motley crew embraces Malcolm (David Johnston), the ex-security guard who discovers his homosexuality; Horse (Orville Chalmers Cameron), an ĂĽber funky black man; and Ethan (Gregory P. Caswell), a goofball completely lacking the DNA gene for modesty.

The production isn’t exactly subtle. But it isn’t brazen or blatant either. At times it’s hysterically funny and at other times lump-in-your-throat sad.

Although the script is stacked with stock characters, director Adam Mazerolle-Kuss successfully avoids a lot of the broad mugging that turns characters into caricatures. Instead, Mazerolle-Kuss shines a spotlight on the subtext’s stark reality of men who have lost their identity and are drowning in the loss.

Right off the bat, one of the first numbers laying the musical’s foundation is Scrap, the initial anthem for out-of-work labourers. At the other end of the spectrum, the women, some of the production’s strongest singers, belt out the joy of finally wearing the family’s economic pants in It’s a Woman’s World.

One of the more touching numbers that relay a character’s insecurities and vulnerabilities is You Walk With Me as Malcolm and Ethan express public affection for each other.

The Full Monty is one of those shows in which losers are unpretentiously transformed into winners. There’s a good chance you’ll leave the theatre with a smile on your face – and not necessarily from seeing naked butt cheeks.