‘Full Monty’ lets it all hang out

Tom Titus

Just as we guys appreciate the sight of an unclad female form, it

logically follows that the reverse is true -- the ladies enjoy

watching men in various stages of undress, which explains the

popularity of the Chippendale dancers.

But fat guys, skinny guys, old guys? No problem -- as long as they

get down to “The Full Monty” (the birthday suit), as the musical

comedy of that title would have you believe. Not that you really do,

not for a moment, but it’s still fun to watch.

“The Full Monty,” now enjoying a rare two-weekend engagement at

the Orange County Performing Arts Center, is, of course, inspired by

the 1997 movie of that title about a group of unemployed Britons

trying to make ends meet by baring their souls -- and a good deal

more -- on the stage.

For the stage musical adaptation, the location has been shifted

from England to Buffalo, N.Y., where noted playwright Terrence

McNally (book) and David Yazbek (music and lyrics) have touched the

nerve of a singularly American malady -- unemployment. Desperate

times call for desperate measures, as one character declares, and

dropping your duds in front of an audience of screaming females (and

some males) is about as desperate as you can get.

It’s an intriguing premise, and it makes for a raucously funny

evening if you can overlook a couple of scripting contrivances.

Certainly the performers bring the concept to life, with all of

the logical uncertainties that accompany such a project.

The unemployed steelworkers who band together to improve their

station in life comprise a lively ensemble, headed by Jerry Lukowski

(Christian Anderson), who’s way behind in child support and could

lose contact with his adoring son (Brett Murray) if he doesn’t cough

up the cash. Anderson excels at energizing the others, even though

his own energy is running on the fumes, but his character’s change of

heart near the moment of truth arises only from the show’s

requirement for a modicum of conflict.

Michael J. Todaro probably gathers the most empathy as Dave, the

overweight guy whose self-esteem has drifted below the radar, even

though his wife (Jennifer Naimo) offers continual encouragement. The

most envied would have to be Robert Westenberg’s Harold, a former

officious plant supervisor who can’t bear to tell his sexy young wife

(Heidi Blickenstaff) that he’s been laid off and appears in coat and

tie throughout.

The older guy, nicknamed “Horse,” is well enacted by Cleavant

Derricks as a fellow who’s still got the moves, even if he twists a

hip at every turn. Christopher J. Hanke shines as the young, eager

fellow who continually attempts (painfully) to emulate Donald

O’Connor in “Singin’ in the Rain.” while Geoffrey Nauffts strikes a

lower key as the depressed night watchman who joins the group and

discovers his soul mate.

Whitney Allen renders a sincere portrayal of Anderson’s ex-wife --

no shrewish cliches here; she’s both likeable and mildly supportive.

Blickenstaff, however, nails down the distaff honors with her

brassy interpretation, while Carol Woods virtually walks off with her

segments as the corpulent African-American pianist and onetime

showgirl who puts the reluctant strippers through their paces. Aaron

Lohr has some juicy segments as a real Chippendale dancer.

Musically, the show is hardly memorable, although the tempo

remains brisk under the baton of Ben Whiteley. The lyrics often are

overwhelmed by the pit orchestra.

There are, despite McNally’s presence as scripter, some yawning

gaps in construction. The most irritating is an extended second-act

funeral sequence for a character we view for all of 30 seconds in the

first act and whose impact on the story is nil.

Even with its flaws, “The Full Monty” is vastly entertaining as it

employs various degrees of uncertainty to amplify its characters.

It’s an a-peeling production.

* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Daily Pilot. His

reviews appear Thursdays and Saturdays.