The Full Monty was always about more than the penis.
For those who’ve somehow grown blasé watching sculpted men flex naked on TV and at the movies, remember that when The Full Monty premiered in 1997, the ultimate reveal was seismic, even though the six guys had their backs to the camera.
Outside of Chippendales dancers, whose bump-and-grind roadshow sparked the idea for the fellows to bare all, men weren’t stripping then, at least not in mainstream movies. (Something that may be hard to believe in our post-Magic Mike world.) The title alludes to the final scene when they toss their hats, which had been shielding their privates, into a horde of hooting women.
“It was a horrible experience, never to be repeated,” Robert Carlyle recalls.
As Gaz, Carlyle (Trainspotting) convinced fellow out-of-work British steelworkers and a couple of other local men that dancing for rowdy, liquored-up women could be a fun way to turn a quick buck. That was 26 years ago.
And now, they’re back.
Let’s skip to what you’re wondering—they do not strip in the FX series, which premieres all eight episodes on June 14 on Hulu. The gang’s all here, though.
Of course, they’ve aged. Who hasn’t? Yet these endearing characters remain true to who they were. Who would believe it if Gaz were suddenly offering stock tips in a posh accent over champagne cocktails in a reboot series? Instead, he’s still eking out a living, trying to get by on charm. Sometimes it even works.
“One of the things I love about the character is he’s got such a big heart,” Carlyle tells The Daily Beast’s Obsessed over Zoom from a Manhattan hotel room. “He doesn’t always get it right. He rarely gets it right, but he’s got a sense of justice, a sense of right and wrong.”
Gaz remains the heart of the story, a perennial screw-up yet a loving father and grandfather. (It has been 26 years.) The series reunites the original actors with writer Simon Beaufoy, who brings in new characters and expands other roles. The big reveal this time around is a naked truth: Life doesn’t always get easier.
Same Folks, New Realities
Mark Addy (Game of Thrones) imbues Dave with the decency you want in a neighbor. He’s still a big tough guy, and he’s stayed married all these years to Jean (Lesley Sharp). Dave’s now the custodian at the school, where Jean’s the head teacher. He’s the compassionate adult a bullied kid can turn to, although Dave’s clueless that his innocent interest in a boy’s well-being looks suspect.
Like any marriage that’s survived decades, Dave and Jean have endured a lot, including something they do not talk about—the death of their 7-month-old son. Sharp (Before We Die) reflects on the unusual opportunity to revisit a character who’s now fully realized beyond her original role as a loving wife.
“The dynamic between Dave and Jean has shifted,” Sharp notes from her home in southeast London. “Jean was Dave’s great supporter back in 1997. And when we catch up with Dave and Jean in 2023, that has shifted, and Dave has been Jean’s cheerleader.”
Jean’s grief propelled her career as she tried to numb the agony of losing her son, knowing she and Dave couldn’t have more children. She works constantly, and her marriage is at a crossroads. Jean tries to keep this crumbling school going even though shoddy workmanship has pipes bursting, and flooding destroys the music room.
This detail is essential, as it shows how administrators in disadvantaged districts have to beg private sector overlords for essential maintenance. Jean has to cancel the music program, which reminds us of the deep cuts made to poorer school districts, dating back to the Thatcher years.
As the couple struggles, and as Gaz and Dave go through the paces of their relationship—Gaz dragging him along on harebrained schemes until Dave gets pissed off and walks—the other fellows are also enjoying lives that have logically evolved in the decades since we last saw them stripping on screen.
Lomper (Steve Huison) runs a café with his husband, Dennis (Paul Clayton. The Crown), a new character who seamlessly joins the ensemble. Incidentally, Lomper hasn’t grown wiser over the years.
Horse (Paul Barber, Only Fools and Horses), the group's elder, is flummoxed by modern life and shafted by the social services system that’s supposed to help him. A scene where he tries to use self-checkout at a market is heartbreaking.
And Tom Wilkinson as Gerald (Michael Clayton), once their foreman, then their choreographer, is still arch. He drapes himself in airs of self-importance. Remember that scene in the movie when the fellows hold auditions? Gerald pretended to read the paper to not meet the eye (or allegedly massive member) of a handyman who had worked on his house.
First a Film, Then a Musical, Now a Series
To take a movie as beloved as this and adapt it into another form is a risk. It’s one that was already taken once before, in 2000, when The Full Monty was turned into a musical with a book by Terrence McNally and a score by David Yazbek. It ran on Broadway for nearly two years and earned nine Tony nominations.
It’s been a hit from the beginning.
Until Titanic bested it, The Full Monty was the top-earning film in the U.K., grossing 71 times what it cost to make. People may not remember the four Oscar nods (Best Picture, Best Director, Best Writing, and Best Score) and the win for Anne Dudley’s music. But they’re sure to recall that they like these guys.
“It’s loved by a lot of people,” Addy notes from his home in East Yorkshire. “The danger, of course, is that you mess that up in some way. So, I think we were all very aware of the preciousness, the value of the movie, and not wanting to, in any way, kind of diminish that. But of course, you've got the same writer, who’s lived with these characters as long as we have and has probably put a lot more thought into them than we ever have.”
Co-writer Alice Nutter scripted the new show alongside Beaufoy. Like the movie, the series packs a political punch, but it’s never preachy. The inequities are simply presented. Twenty-six years ago, in Sheffield, out-of-work steelworkers had no options. Today there are still none. The city is barely holding on. Buildings are even shabbier; public services more eroded.
It’s grim but engaging because of the camaraderie and optimism the characters hold onto, despite the odds.
Ultimately, this is a story about friendship and how you help others. And that gives everyone some hope. The feckless Gaz always comes through, even when the powers that be do not.
The Origin Story
Uberto Pasolini, who produced the film and is executive producing the series, recalls how he came up with The Full Monty. A friend suggested a film about men stripping, “which wasn't very interesting. It involved drugs and strange things,” Pasolini says. “But I was a great lover of a Ken Loach film called Riff-Raff.”
That, too, starred Carlyle and was about guys working at a building site. “At the end of Riff-Raff, they walk out, and the building site is on fire,” Pasolini says. “And I always thought, what are those people going to do next? And I put basically the two ideas together. I saw them walk in front of a Chippendales’ poster, which is what then happens in the film itself, and they say, we’ll do this next, and that’s how I really started.”
Taking a break in a taverna in Greece’s Peloponnese region, where he’s working with Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche on The Return, a new take on The Odyssey, Pasolini recalls that he had envisioned the guys as miners. He had studied in Wales and knew what the Thatcher years had done to its coal-mining industry. But Beaufoy, who won an Oscar for Slumdog Millionaire, is from Yorkshire and knows about steelworkers. Pasolini was fine with changing the locale and jobs. The grueling work is different, but the results of their way of life cratering are the same.
Over the years, Pasolini and Beaufoy talked about how much they loved these characters and wanted to do a sequel—but it had to be right.
“We weren’t sure what the reason was going to be,” Pasolini admits. “Simon wrote something that was very much an ensemble piece about the social situation, about the disenfranchisement of what it meant to be a man without a job. What it meant to be a man losing one’s identity, one’s sense of living, sense of purpose. When you lose your job, you lose your job as the provider for the family. So, there was the destruction of a society brought about by the Thatcher government.
“And 25 years later, we found ourselves in a similar situation with effectively 15 years of a Tory government that has stripped the social-safety net away from people, people who were used to having unemployment benefits, functioning hospitals, functioning schools,” he continues. “And we thought it would be a good opportunity to revisit our old friends and see the state of the nation. But with the proviso that one it was with our original cast. And two, that it would be sustained by the mixture of comedy and humanity that is inherent in Simon's writing.”
Beaufoy—who could not be interviewed because of the WGA strike—“wanted to bring in a new generation,” Pasolini adds. “This asks what does it mean to be parents of children who are brought up in today’s world?”
Keeping The Full Monty Fresh
Adding younger characters is also intended to help draw in younger viewers. Gaz’s daughter, Destiny (Talitha Wing, Wolfe), is tough and world-weary, though still a teenager. After all, she lives in Sheffield, too. Everyone there knows what it is to struggle.
In the name of all that is holy, though, do not call these guys the salt of the earth and dismiss them as loveable lugs. They’re workers who just wanted stability. Just men: some straight, some gay, one Black, the others white, some barely getting by, others precariously perched in the middle class. No one is beyond the threat of what happens when there’s a setback. The government safety net is not just shredded; it seems to exist to ensnare people and strangle them.
“There wasn’t any work,” Carlyle recalls of growing up in Glasgow. “There was nothing. It was just welfare. I grew up like that. I’m a long way from that today… I mean, here I am, an actor, sitting here in New York. It’s like a million miles away from that. But once upon a time, I was from there, and my heart is still there.”
Once Carlyle confirmed he would revive Gaz, Pasolini asked the others. No one hesitated. Addy, Carlyle, and Sharp say they would continue if the series is renewed. The producer relishes the idea of taking it beyond these eight episodes. His original goal remains: “to hold onto the sense of optimism in the individual.”
Pasolini cites Thatcher’s famous quote: “There is no such thing as society.” “Well, I think the message of the first film, and very much what we wanted to hold onto, was that there is such a thing as society,” Pasolini maintains. “And it is made of individuals who care for each other and are there for each other in a moment of need.”
“That, to me, is the most important thing that the original film communicated, and I hope the series does, too,” he continues. “And I think it’s very moving. I obviously have an investment in the original; I lived it. I edited it. These people have lived with me for a very long time. But when we get to the eighth episode of the series, I am in pieces when I see those images of them young and old, and all together, I really get emotional. The sense of unity, the sense of community, coming together, the sense of support and love for each other—to me, that’s really what it’s all about.”
So, it truly was always about more than the penis.
Keep obsessing! Sign up for the Daily Beast’s Obsessed newsletter and follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and TikTok.
