Photo By Dan Davidson

The Full Monty

I need to be honest: I don't care for The Full Monty, although I've tried. I saw it on Broadway and on tour. Now I've watched its local premiere, by New Stage Collective. (It returns next season at CCM, too.) I'm not growing fonder of this contrived piece about out-of-work, blue collar guys who decide the only way to make some money and earn some self-respect is to take their clothes off in front of their spouses, girlfriends, children, neighbors and fellow workers. It just doesn't make sense to me -- although it has its amusing moments.

New Stage Collective captures several of them, especially when a guy named Horse (Steven Milloy) sings "Big Black Man" in his audition to join the aspiring dancers. Milloy has a paunch and a shuffle that belie any talent at all, until he starts to sing -- and then he has all the moves. He becomes an endearing character because he's natural and human. Those qualities are also captured by plus-sized Dave Bukatinsky (Chris Wesselman), who evokes puppy-dog charm (well, maybe it's more of a St. Bernard) as he struggles with the effects of weight and depression on his marriage and his employment prospects.

But for me, The Full Monty suffers because its central character is a selfish jerk, Jerry Lukowski (Charlie Clark), who can't get beyond his own ego. Of course, his cockamamie idea of stripping for a quick buck drives the show's comic engine, but it's hard to love a story about a guy who's not very likeable. He berates and demeans his best friend, Bukatinsky, when he takes a job as a security guard at a Wal-Mart; he's homophobic (although the show's underlying attitude is supportive); he's disrespectful of his wife Pam (Lauren Carter); and he borderline inattentive to his adolescent son Nathan (Thomas Langlois). He's not going to be named father of the year, and several of the songs created for him -- the crude "Scrap" and "Man," for instance -- make it worse, despite his gentle lullaby to Nathan, "Breeze Off The River," which seems out of character.

I should quickly add that Charlie Clark is a fine performer who makes the best of this role -- his singing (several songs require shouting more than crooning) is solid, and he looks the part. He's the focal point of this show, and he does make it go. I just don't care much for where it takes us.

The other challenge with The Full Monty is its large cast: New Stage Collective lists 21 actors, and several play multiple roles. There's too many characters to keep track of or to care for. Most of the 21 are too youthful (many of the cast are currently university theater students) for the roles they're playing. Marian Weage, as the salty pianist Jeanette Burmeister, counteracts this with references to Geritol and Lawrence Welk (her song, "Jeanette's Showbiz Number," is a lot of fun), but she ultimately underscores the immaturity of the rest of the cast.

This youth contributes to a lack of ensemble performance: This show can rise on a tide of bonded energy if everyone is in synch. Unfortunately, New Stage's production is drawn to individual performances rather than the camaraderie that might make us love these low-talent guys. (It surfaces briefly in "Michael Jordan's Ball," when a choreography lesson takes a page from the NBA. But while cleverly staged, this overlong segment felt more like a novelty than an integral part of the story.)

This production has rough edges, especially in sound delivery and balance between the orchestra and the singers. On the plus side, Clare Strasser's clever set design -- several roll-around industrial-style scaffolds, adorned with props ranging from a urinal to a TV set -- quickly morphs from one configuration to another to present the show's many scenes.

I admire New Stage Collective's ambition but The Full Monty is not the best showcase of their potential. GRADE: C+