Ah, The Full Monty. No, I’m not talking about today’s centerfold (It seems so long since we had one!), but the movie, which was on TV on Monday night. Gritty Northern themes, like unemployment and Sheffield, spruced up with humour – this usually makes for a solid film.

It opens with a brilliantly botched theft of a steel girder from a disused factory, for example. And the quick-witted ego-busting response to “I need an audience” when the protagonist has trouble stripping in front of his son and some of the other lovely male leads – “You need a doctor” – was the point of no return for me, that is, no return to work; I was going to watch the film in its entirety.

Since it features so very briefly, I’ll not go into the nakedness theme (‘nudity’ might be the ‘correct’ vocabulary but whatever Trevor; nude sounds vanilla and naked sounds hardcore). For the observant amongst you, you’ll notice that’s not strictly true – nakedness does feature prominently, even in the title, would you believe it. So let me explain where I’m coming from. I am trying to do some serious analysis-cum-preaching. As the Felix centrefold teaches us, nakedness is no laughing matter. Yet The Full Monty mocks one highly respected art form, interpretive dance; the team interpret Tom Jones’s ‘You can leave your hat on’ exquisitely. I respect that.

But I’ve digressed horribly. We must discuss the soundtrack! I highly recommend ‘Make me smile (Come up and see me)’ courtesy of Steve Harley and the Cockney Rebels. And by “recommend” I mean that if I could, I’d shove this song down your throats. Alternatively you could simply listen to the song by way of watching The Full Monty if you haven’t already done so. Don’t miss ‘Moving on up’ by M People, either! Or Hot Chocolate’s one hit wonder, which should go without saying. Shame on you if you don’t know their masterpiece.

Then there is the adorable ‘fat bastard’ subplot, which is so heart-warming. This is not sarcasm. To clarify, I cried at that tender moment when he says “Who wants to see this [gesturing at self] dance?” and his wife says “I do.” If I were to take a wife, I’d want one like her, one who would reaffirm my existence. Cynics might suggest that her needs were being provided for elsewhere (with her work colleague) but, in that case, at least she is resourceful. Don’t look at me like that, you sexy thing. She is hot stuff. For Sheffield, anyway.