"The Full Monty"

Theatre review
"The Full Monty" at Ithaca College
The Ithaca Journal
November 8, 2007
733 words
"IC Theatre's ‘Full Monty' offers multiple delights"

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IC Theatre's ‘Full Monty' offers multiple delights
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to the Journal


Men care about their weight. There - I said it. The secret is out: Men are as conscious of their bodies as women are of their own. Not many who refer to themselves as “real men” will admit to that, including the main characters of “The Full Monty” - at least in the beginning.

“The Full Monty,” a musical comedy adapted from the 1997 British film of the same name, counterbalances the woman-centric focus of Ithaca College's last theatre production, “Hedda Gabler.” “The Full Monty” (music and lyrics by David Yazbek, book by Terrence McNally), directed by Greg Bostwick, tackles some seldom-addressed themes while diving headfirst into a delightfully unique story.

A group of six unemployed Buffalonian steel workers led by Jerry (Eric Morris, projecting a phenomenal voice in both singing and acting) scrounge about for work and struggle to disprove their obsolescence. When the monetary difficulties press harder, the men become desperate; they have to commit to something substantial in order to get their lives back on track.

Jerry, divorced and missing the alimony payments for visitation with his precocious son Nathan (Lochlan Cahoon, a Dryden High School freshman), convinces his friend Dave (Matthew J. Gall) to follow his wife to a women-only strip club. After overhearing the women complain about their husbands, Jerry has an idea that will earn money and gain back the women's respect: put on a show where women can see “real men” take their clothes off - all their clothes off.

They recruit four others: Harold (Benjamin Hart), who has been keeping his unemployment a secret from his wife; Malcolm (Kyle Johnson), whom Dave rescues from committing suicide; Ethan (Brian Plofsky), who renders the men speechless when he disrobes during his audition; and “Horse” (Jonathan Burke), an older gentleman who impresses everyone with his versatile dancing skills in the show-stopping number, “Big Black Man” (choreography by Mary Corsaro). Once together, they dub themselves Hot Metal. An eccentric woman named Jeanette (Joanna Krupnick) also joins in on the audition process, apparently because she has nothing better to do - but that's no problem, since she's quite funny and a definite crowd-pleaser (watch for “Jeanette's Showbiz Number,” wherein she refers to the auditions as a “putz museum” and a “showbiz mausoleum”).

As in the film, if the six men are to follow through with their plan, they have to stare their insecurities, physical and psychological, squarely in the face. Dave is overweight, Malcolm is lonely, and Harold is afraid of losing his wife. It's a bit far-fetched to believe that stripping can lead to overstepping these obstacles, but the writing is sound enough to make it work. And between the more angst-laced (but still great) songs like “Scrap” and “The Goods,” there are honest confessionals of emotion in “Breeze off the River” and “You Walk with Me” - stuff you wouldn't typically expect from purportedly “real men” men.

In the visual realm, costume designer Greg Robbins gave the characters befitting attire, a task that must have been difficult given that many of the garments needed to be easily removed on stage. And Sarah Watson's lighting design has some challenging moments that were executed flawlessly, particularly in the song “Michael Jordan's Ball” when a spotlight hits each of the guys while they strike a basketball pose in midair, and in the final, epic number “Let it Go,” which requires even more precise timing.

By that point, it's become obvious where the show is heading, and there is little for the audience to do but enjoy the crescendo of energy rushing from the stage.

The writers' choice to Americanize the story and place it in Buffalo is an effective one. Scenic designer Sandra Podolsky applied Buffalo's reputation of decrepitude to parts of her set: a dirty bathroom, brown facades, and a steel plant complete with thick beams covering a screen of projected background images.

The show's Buffalo setting also creates some locally appreciated humor. The characters mention Ithaca, Utica, Rochester, and Poughkeepsie, and there's a Bills reference every so often. But besides humor, the struggling economic milieu provides a message of hope in a sea of melancholy. Maybe the real Buffalo should take a hint - no, not to open more everyman strip joints for ex-factory-workers - but to embrace innovation, optimism, and persistence like the resolute men in “The Full Monty.” They swallowed their pride and then displayed it unabashedly, and in turn, won a standing ovation.