Yes, they go the full monty at the Westchester Broadway Theatre's energetic new production of "The Full Monty."

I think.

Actually, I'm going on faith here.

At the critical moment -- the final second of the musical, when the sextet of working-class Buffalo corporate victims snap the sides of their leather slingshot G-strings and reveal the extent to which desperate men will go to reveal and reclaim their manhood -- a strobe flash behind them obscures the view.

So if it's the view you want -- and why are you going, if not for the view -- sit on the sides at the Elmsford theater. If there's a something special to see, you'll have a better chance.

But even without a clear stop-action view of the money shot, you'll have fun waiting. The company goes the full monty in its real sense, going all out to entertain.

There is a story, after all, in and around the build up to the strip -- there's no tease, is there, when you go the full monty.

Director/choreographer Richard Stafford, last responsible for the WBT production of "Cats," lets his large ensemble of talented singers loose on the story of unemployed steelworkers and the women who want them to forsake the factory for jobs at the mall.

Best pals Jerry Lukoswki and Dave Bukatinsky are going downhill fast. Jerry and his wife Pam are splitsville and his son is spending too much time with Pam's oh-so-employed boyfriend. Dave and Georgie -- who brings the women and their frustrations to a Chippendales-style strip show, introducing the plot -- still share a bed, but not much else.

In its original movie, one of several set in bleak, mean times of Margaret Thatcher's less-than-Great Britain, "The Full Monty" had a political backstory. When the musical hit Broadway in 2000, its transfer to Buffalo made it more a cultural than a political commentary.

Either way, the boys will lose everything if they don't find a way to make some money, say the pot of gold at the end of the Chippendales' rainbow. Jerry and Dave gather an unlikely group of would-be strippers, find their self-worth and solutions to their family issues and, after appropriate moments (and songs) of doubt, hit the stage and start peeling off those guard uniforms.

It's easy to root for the men. Peter James Zielinski as Jerry and especially Tad Wilson as Dave have real comic presence, fine voices and ability to connect with the audience.

They, and Stafford, also make good choices. Wilson uses his gut as its own character; Zielinski, who must display the widest range on stage, uses Jerry's relationship with his son (Noah Ruff at this performance) to win our undying sympathy, even when he uses that relationship as collateral.

Fellow dancers Harold (Joel Briel), Malcolm (Nick Gaswirth), Ethan (Brian Gligor) and Horse (David A. White) provide more than amble support. Each gets a turn or two in the spotlight.

Gaswirth's introduction in "Big-Ass Rock" kickstarts Act One. White's dance number "Big Black Man" adds an emotional core to the audition scenes. Briel's confessional in "You Rule My World" and Gligor and Gaswirth's "You Walk With Me" show they really know who they are and what they need.

The guys eventually turn to basketball to inspire their inner dancers -- hairy backs, bouncing bellies, complete lack of coordination and all.

The women eventually come around, too. Even Harold's wife Vicki (a commanding Amy Barker), who managed to not realize her man had lost his job and was drowning as she continued to shop and plan vacations.

Caroline B. Younger's tightly curled Georgie is shrill, but she's supposed to be. Laurie-Beth Mraz's Pam Lukowski manages to suggest she knows what she's losing by choosing security over Jerry, her first love.

And WBT veteran Patti Mariano nearly brings down the house as the pint-sized rehearsal pianist and show-biz Yoda Jeanette Burmeister, who shares that enduring truth: When you're bad on stage, you're really bad.

Sets (Steven Loftus) and costumes (Matthew Nemesath) add to the fast pace of the production. Beds slide in and out, and those G-strings are worn more than just a special effect. One nice touch: the white socks on the first "real" stripper we see. Credit or blame Andrew Gmoser for the lighting effect that keeps the show rated PG.

"The Full Monty" is not "The Sound of Music," of course. David Yazbek's mostly clever words and music serve Terrence McNally's answer-every-question book -- his work on "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" has fewer seams.

But with "The Full Monty" taking you easily and happily from dinner to those special desserts at intermission and to that brilliant flash of light at the finale, the Westchester Broadway Theatre gives you an evening-long bang for the entertainment buck.

Even if the monty you see is not quite full.