The Full Monty, review: Disney+ revisit a community stripped bare by poor policy-making

The Full Monty (Disney+) sets out its stall straight away. “Twenty-six years ago, six unemployed steelworkers came together to help each other out – with surprising results,” reads the opening captions in the first episode (ironically titled “Levelling Up”). “Seven Prime Ministers and eight northern regeneration policies later…”

The working men’s club that hosted the original film’s infamous 1997 striptease is now boarded up. Schools are underfunded. Mental health services are overstretched. Bus services are axed. Food banks are a fact of life. The surprise box-office hit was always politically charged, tracing as it did the fallout from the deindustrialisation of Sheffield, and this eight-part sequel wears its politics on its sleeve too. The issues will be all too recognisable, especially to those in neglected communities. If the optimism of the original, written at the tail end of John Major’s Conservative government, and released during Blair’s Labour one, has gone, that’s the point: this is a sobering reminder of how far we haven’t come.

It speaks volumes that all of the original actors were willing to return. Ringleader Gaz (the ever-watchable Robert Carlyle, who won a Bafta for the original film) is still hatching hare-brained schemes that inevitably backfire. Here it’s the unlikely but rather sweet combo of dognapping and street art. Shy misfit Lomper (Steve Huison) is married to waspish Dennis (scene-stealer Paul Clayton – homosexual relationships are more confidently foregrounded this time around). Together the couple run a café called “Big Baps”. Complaints about sexism force them to change its name. Middle-aged men being “cancelled” is a recurring theme – again, as before, they are flailing.

Caretaker Dave (Mark Addy) and his headteacher wife Jean (Lesley Sharp) work at the same school, attended by all the younger characters. The pick of the next-gen is Gaz’s rebellious daughter Destiny (rising talent Talitha Wing). Teen scenes are pitched midway between Ackley Bridge and Glee. Rousing choir scenes enhance the well-curated soundtrack.

The most poignant plot strand is that of Horse (Paul Barber), who rides a mobility scooter and lives on the breadline. As his disability benefits are cut and he battles bureaucracy, the show turns into a kitchen sink drama, bringing the realities of the cost of living crisis into sharpest relief.

There are issues of pacing here, both with the plotting and the dialogue. Some of that has been tricky to avoid: Hugo Speer, who plays bisexual Guy, was fired by Disney halfway through filming after allegations of inappropriate conduct, meaning his storyline suddenly vanishes. And it’s a shame 75-year-old actor Tom Wilkinson, who plays foreman Gerald, is reduced to blink-and-you’ll-miss-them cameos.

Still, there’s a pigeon-fancying Korean millionaire (don’t ask) to divert attention, and bumbling divorcee Darren (the excellent Miles Jupp, who slotted in nicely), who takes in a family of Kurdish asylum seekers.

And as for that striptease? First time around, stripping was a metaphor for the loss of livelihoods and identity. Now a quarter-of-a-century older, it makes a half-hearted reprise during a siege (again, don’t ask), but it’s no longer the narrative-driver. Without an adequate replacement, the momentum suffers as a result.

Still, for all the kitchen-sink bleakness, its community spirit still crackles with warmth, offering glimmers of hope. You can leave your hat on, sure, but this is 26 years of poor policy-making laid bare.