I had a marvellous time watching Monty Python, though probably predictably, that enjoyment was coupled with an understanding that this was a long way from seeing Python in their prime. Undoubtedly, there was a heavy dose of the joy of being able to say I saw them perform, rather than pure, simple, objective pleasure. I’m a lifelong Python fan, and I was amongst thousands of others like me, though most where a few decades older than me, and whiter too!
The mixed reviews this show got are reflective of this situation: the show was ropey and its performers very advanced in years now. One of them, of course, has passed away and way represented only via projections that typically had a reverent set-up and then undercut it. Others looked like they genuinely might pass away on the stage where they stood. There was a lot of padding, including underwhelming dance routines, playback of classic sketches and a decidedly overlong interval. And it was a little sad to me that it took about half the show for the selection of classic sketches to start focusing on the clever and the absurd rather than the cheeky and scatological, perhaps the area of Python humour that has aged least well, and is not enhanced by penis canons and extra verses of the Penis song that were about vaginas and bottoms. The intent to make a musical extravaganza of the show – Idle’s distinctive stamp, after the success of Spamalot – also provides some clunkers: ‘I Like Chinese’ just isn’t funny or clever enough, and ‘Sit On My Face’ deserves to be short and silly. That’s why Gilliam doing ‘I’ve Got Two Legs’ works wonderfully. You need something on the scale of ‘The Universe Song’ to really work here, and it does, marvellously – especially with a silly filmed cameo from Professors Cox and Hawking afterwards.
But for all that the show could have been better, it was still incredibly good fun – and frequently moving. I will never regret having had seen Python on likely their last-ever outing together, under that name. And there’s a degree of thrill to seeing these men as they have become – two film directors, one of them legendary; perhaps the most respected and grumpiest living comedian; an endlessly likeable travel documentary maker; and an aging darling of broadway who crops up in a remarkable number of animated films. Carol Cleveland herself is there, too, in the flesh – and remarkably sprightly. Strangely, it’s the least visible Python from their original incarnation – Terry Gilliam – who it’s most strange and thrilling to see doing such silly things now. He’s a highly respected and brilliant film director – and there he is in horrible corsets and suspenders! There he is rather awkwardly having to fit an overlong and unnecessary fart gag into the brilliant Crunchy Frog sketch! There he is taking over Michael Palin’s role in ‘Gumby Flower Arranging’. How strange and hilarious!
This was a greatest hits show – nobody should really have been expecting anything different. There’s not really anything new here, only slight expansions and the extended songs – plus an original, catchy but not very comedic song about money being the root of evil. Otherwise, the sketches are all classics from the series – dead parrots, spam, inquisitions, paid-for arguments, penguins on TVs, albatrosses, lumberjacks, Bruces and Yorkshiremen are all present and correct. Up on the screen, we get not only classic animations (some of which I think should’ve been the And Now for Something Completely Different versions, especially the killer pram) but some great sketches – philosophers’ football, fish-slapping and the silly olympics raise laughs, and not just because the laugh track was intact.
These are well-loved sketches and seeing them performed by their writers is something special. Cleese is wheezing throughout and poor Terry Jones can’t quite remember his lines – which he gets ribbed for by Cleese in ‘Crunchy Frog’ and Idle in ‘Nudge Nudge’ – but they are still very silly and very funny. Nobody should have been expecting new material – but there are little flourishes that are draped onto the sketches that make it all seem more personal. Palin seems determined to get the audience to notice that he’s doing a tribute to Morecambe and Wise’s skip dance every time he exits. Cleese still corpses a lot, forgetting his lines (or pretending to) during ‘Crunchy Frog’ and snatching Jones’ cue card: he also throws Palin during ‘Dead Parrot’ by coming out with a random account of Isaac Newton inventing the cat flap (urban legend). Idle is a little less likeable these days, the put-on smarm becoming a bit too believable, but his voice is actually superb. All the cracks, that on the surface are very unprofessional, actually fall within the remit of the allowances we as an audience seemed prepared to make. They were charming and made it seem like we were seeing something genuine.
If ever there were really awkward moments, it was when the Pythons brought someone else into the fold. People donated to charity to be allowed to join the Pythons onstage in the Bruce sketch, but it was mostly awkward. There seem to have been a variety of celeb guests for the ‘blackmail’ portion, coming on and admitting something embarrassing, and ours was Simon Pegg – but his introduction brought the already sub-par sketch grinding to a halt (though there was a funny moment with a still of Top Gear to modernise it).
Overall, though, this was precisely what I hoped for – and with a much better view than I had thought I’d get! If I could have added anything more, it would have been Mr. Creosote, and maybe more nods to Grail than God and mooses.
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