Change Happens

I’d like to answer that big question: How does TriArts — famously devoted to family fare, "Camelot," "My Fair Lady," "The King and I" — end its spirited production of "The Full Monty"?

But first — don’t worry, I’ll get to it — I’d like to say a few things about how "The Full Monty"

starts .

That’s with a rush of sparkly curtain blotting out Buffalo’s skyline, and a smartly muscled fellow (George Corso) who takes it off (well, not

all off, not the full monty) for cheerfully ululating women, playing after a day at work.

The women’s unemployed menfolk sulk outside as the gals drink beer, ogling this fellow, who twitches his pecs for them, alternately; and the natural order of things, which has always said men have power and can do as they like because they bring home the bucks, hits the wall.

These are hard times in Buffalo. Manufacturing has moved, probably to a different continent, and only service jobs remain. Women’s work.

The scene shifts fast to a union hall where those same guys are picking up their benefits checks.

"I want a job, I want to feel like a person," Jerry (Scott Laska) sings.

"I want to feel like the husband instead of the wife," Dave (Andy Lindberg) chimes in. And we’re maybe three minutes into the show. No ambiguities here. No subtle revelations. We get the full monty in the first five minutes. We know everything we are ever going to know about these people, right from the get-go. The rest is story, acting and, in the special case of TriArts, community pride.

Which brings us to David Bayersdorfer, a showman who also teaches social studies at Housatonic Valley Regional High School. He likes getting on stage. And he seems to like dropping his pants and shimmying around in red boxers, auditioning for the strip show, "the one-night killing" that will make life right for these guys again. The audience cheers one of its own up there. And he’s good.

Michael Britt, another familiar face, as Harold Nichols, the manager who hasn’t told his wife he lost his job six months ago, shakes it, loves it, is good at it, too.

And then there’s great, like actor Richard Waits, as Horse, who makes dancing lame a triumph. And Glenda Lauten, playing the hugely endowed Jeanette Burmeister, who, leaning into the keyboard, shows us how she played the piano, once, with all her fingers broken.

Some people were just born to be on a stage.

And that includes Laska, a professional whose rascally bumps and grinds we caught in TriArts’ "The Pajama Game" last year. It’s good to see them again.

And it’s good to see a story about ordinary people triumphing, which is what "The Full Monty" is about, triumphing over bad times, and fear, and change.

Director Robert Durkin brings out the right stuff in everybody, pros and amateurs alike, and his basketball sequence, where the guys dance, really dance, for the first time, takes us out of local pride and into awe.

As for the finish, Artistic Director Michael Berkeley says TriArts should be at least as brave as the "The Full Monty" ’s six heroes.

And it is.

"The Full Monty," the American musical by Terrence McNally with score by David Yazbek, is based on the 1997 British film. The TriArts production is directed and choreographed by Bob Durkin, with music direction by the company’s artistic director Michael Berkeley.

"The Full Monty" runs at the Sharon Playhouse through July 6.

For tickets and information, call 860-364-7469.