The director bares (almost) all

Director Peter Cattaneo isn't exactly certain how the expression "the full monty" (meaning "everything") originated. The possibilities, however, are as colorful and charming as British lore should be. One version spins the tale of a clothier named Montague who offered soldiers an unbeatable deal after World War II. For their discharge or "demob" tokens, they could march into civilian life dapperly dressed in a "full monty" -- hat, tie, shirt, socks, and three-piece suit. Another story credits General Bernard Montgomery's hearty a.m. appetite. Each morning, the military man wolfed down a daunting English breakfast: sausage, beans, bacon, eggs -- a "full monty," as the cooks snickeringly dubbed it. Take your pick. Whoever the elusive Mr. M. might be, the 33-year-old director is sure of one thing, and that's the inspiration for his film.

"I think The Full Monty is a reaction to feminism," says Cattaneo, who was nominated for an Academy Award in 1990 for his short film "Dear Rosie." "The traditional Hollywood thing is to make sure you've got the car chase, you've got the guns, you've got the nice naked woman. But I think that has changed. I think that women have gotten more powerful. Often they're calling the shots about going to see a movie, and they're quite keen to see Brad Pitt's bum. It's great that there's equality. But The Full Monty turns it even a notch further. It's payback time really."

Long before Cattaneo took his place behind the camera, the director bandied with traditional male-female roles when he and casting director Susie Figgis sat down for auditions. "Women have been cast for years for their bodies," he points out, "but I was casting the actors for their bodies as well. I did ask some of them to take their shirts off and do a twirl, to make sure they were un-muscled or puny enough. Mostly I asked them if they could dance. If they said yes, then they didn't get a part."

Of Figgis's invaluable input he adds, "It was good to have a woman involved, just to be sure that they weren't in any way attractive."

This was not the only time Cattaneo slipped into the female point of view during filming. One evening he and several crew members sidled into ladies' night at a Sheffield pub. Their entertainment? A quartet of striplings billed as "The Centurions." Cattaneo recalls, "Women were coming up to us really drunk and saying, `What are you doing here? We'll have your trousers off next!!' It was absolutely terrifying! It was like a big soccer match."

Cattaneo, who admits the last time he went public in the full monty was a dip at a nude beach at age 18, muses about the increased demands on the male species to drop the spare tire and beef up their biceps. "Since the beginning of mass media, there's been a pressure, mostly for women, to look a certain stereotype, a perfect form. But I think men have kind of quietly looked at Clark Gable all along and thought, "Why don't I look like that?" Now, with more sexual liberation, there's whole racks of magazines on men's health and men's bodies. We're starting to think and worry about this as part of our journey toward equality. Perhaps it's one of the bad signs of it: we've got your problems as well now."

And some of the most unlikely ones at that. Of the comedy's finale, Cattaneo reveals, "I think that took about 12 takes. One of the guys would always get kind of caught up in his velcro leather thong, and their bums got very sore as well. It was funny for about three takes, and then it became a bit of a problem."

-- AP