I’m grateful for Monty Python

In September, I had the pleasure of seeing Monty Python and the Holy Grail at the Majestic Theater in downtown Dallas for its 50^th birthday. The people in attendance were some of the biggest fans imaginable, and we had a guest host: none other than John Cleese himself.

This was part of Cleese’s “I’m Not Dead Yet” tour. He took the stage before the film screening and talked about what led up to it. One piece of information he shared is that the Python team wrote the original script and then threw about 90% of it in the trash. The remaining 10%? The scene at the very beginning of the film about coconuts, written by Michael Palin. Considering the film they delivered, I can only imagine what was in the original version.

After the movie, Cleese came out and answered questions in bunny slippers. As he spoke, he mentioned that Dallas was particularly close to his heart, as that’s where Python took his first steps in the United States. This got me thinking about how Python has influenced my life (and certainly my sense of humor) over the years, let’s take a look, shall we?

The KERA connection

I was very lucky to have PBS in my life growing up. Sesame Street, Electricity companyAnd 3-2-1 (especially the Bloodhound Gang) were staples of my early years. KERA, a Dallas PBS affiliate, was the first to broadcast episodes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus in the 1970s, thanks in large part to KERA’s program director, Ron Devillier.

This led to more British televisions crossing the Atlantic, including: Fawlty Towers, Are you being served?, Keeping up appearances, Black Viper, Yes, Mr. Minister, Absolutely fabulous, Dad’s Armyand the list goes on.

I saw all these people grow up, without speaking Doctor Who. These shows had apparently always been there. I didn’t realize how close this was to nothing happening at all. But it happened, and Monty Python was king of the hill in my opinion. When my father introduced me Holy Grail at seven years old, I was an immediate fan. Although I was too young to understand most of the jokes, the wacky nature, like King Arthur riding an imaginary horse to the sound of coconuts clicking together, was not lost on me.

I didn’t like the ending at the time, and that hasn’t changed over the years. One of the first fanfictions I ever created was about Arthur, Bedivere and Lancelot escaping from custody, dropping the bobbies and returning to Aaaaaaargggh castle to defeat the French and finally recover the Holy Grail. I even asked God to open his animated cloud window again to give Arthur an attaboy for pulling it off…in an appropriately sarcastic tone, of course.

When I showed Holy Grail to my youngest son, I was delighted to see that he found it hilarious, but he Also I hated the ending. Like father like son, even if we tried to warn him.

Theater of the Absurd

One of my favorite sketches in Flying circus is the courtroom scene in Episode 3. It begins with Eric Idle giving an impassioned speech about freedom following a minor parking violation. After a rambling rant from Graham Chapman in drag, John Cleese, as a lawyer, calls a (virtually) dead man in a coffin as a witness. It’s going as well as expected.

Not to be outdone, he then calls Cardinal Richelieu, played by Michael Palin, as a character witness. After a few questions, Graham Chapman returns on stage as a Scotland Yard inspector named Dim. The inspector rightly deduces that the witness is not the real Cardinal Richelieu, who died in 1642. He is in fact Ron Higgins, a professional impersonator of Cardinal Richelieu.

At this point, Inspector Dim starts singing a song that says that if he hadn’t been in CID, he would have been a window cleaner. The entire courtroom breaks into song, including Terry Jones as the judge who wears the traditional long wig. The icing on the cake is what happens next.

After Dim’s song is finished, John Cleese’s lawyer begins his own song about being a locomotive driver. It doesn’t last very long because suddenly everyone in the courtroom is looking at him as if the previous song never happened, as if he had burst into song in the middle of an actual legal proceeding. Embarrassed, the lawyers sit down and a knight in full armor sits next to him, who then hits Cleese over the head with a chicken.

Genius.

The sketch takes the relative normalcy of a courtroom and subverts it in at least seven different ways. This sketch is a microcosm of what I love and appreciate about Python: their ability to play something absolutely direct when the actual substance of the situation is completely absurd.

Another example is the Crocodile sketch. Eric Idle delivers the news while reporting on the Olympic sport, men eaten by a crocodile. The sport involves sprinting sixty meters towards a crocodile pit only to be the first to be eaten. For me, one of the best lines is about the coach: “Duke’s has coached every British team since 1928. It’s his blend of gymnastic know-how, reptilian expertise and culinary skills that turns many an unappetizing novice into a banquet of crocodiles..”

*Chef’s kiss*

Climbing tests

Of course, Python is famous for its ability to continually take a seemingly normal situation into the stratosphere. The one that people are probably most familiar with is the Parrot sketch. Although it’s a classic, here are three of my favorite examples of this escalation at work:

The Cheese Factory: John Cleese enters a cheese shop run by Michael Palin. Cleese begins asking for different types of cheese, going through an impressive catalog of cheese names. Each time, Palin says that either they’re not that species, or they’re not carrying it, or the cat ate it. Palin finally admits that he doesn’t have any cheese in his cheese shop and that he was deliberately wasting Cleese’s time. Then Cleese shoots him.

The argument: Cleese and Palin do it again as Palin walks into an office to buy an argument. This sketch goes back and forth, exploring what an argument is supposed to be as they literally argue over whether they are having an argument or not. Cleese eventually admits that he might “argue in his spare time.” Bright.

The Bookstore: Perhaps my favorite, this time Cleese is on the receiving end as a long-suffering bookseller. As the annoying customer (who has been played by various actors over the years) continually requests more and more obscure book titles, Cleese begins to unravel. The bookstore owner begins tearing pages from books to satisfy the customer, even offering to do it for him when it turns out the customer has no money, checks, or even a bank account. During a final escalation, the client cannot actually read. So Cleese sits them down and begins to read to them.

All of these scenarios are masterclasses in comic escalation and definitely form the backbone of how I approach humor in my own writing.

The Romans return home

There is a scene in Brian’s life where Graham Chapman’s main character paints ‘Novels Go Home’ on a building in Latin. He is caught in the act by a centurion played by John Cleese. Cleese immediately corrects his grammar and forces Brian to write “Romans Go Home” several times until he finally gets the verb forms and chords correct. Although I always found this part funny, it has become much more so since I studied Latin at university. This highlights the fact that Monty Python’s humor comes from an understanding of history, classics, economics, art, philosophy, and social awkwardness.

These are all hallmarks of British comedy in general, but Python really brought this to the forefront in almost every sketch, scene and film. The scene with Dennis in Holy Grail is another great example. Arthur just wants to know who lives in a castle far away, but instead receives a socio-political lecture from a peasant who calls out the obvious flaw in the Excalibur/Lady of the Lake story. This gives us the immortal phrase: “Look, strange women lying in ponds handing out swords is not the basis of a system of government!” »

I’ve always found British comedy much more cerebral and thoughtful than its American counterpart. Don’t worry, I’m not going full Anglophile here, I’m just saying that British humor relies on more than just a superficial understanding of the circumstances and situation, and I like that. To illustrate this contrast in approaches between the two, here’s a commercial John Cleese starred in for Schweppes Ginger Ale in the 90s. You’ll see what I mean.

Final Thoughts

I’m grateful to have been exposed to Monty Python at such a young age, and I appreciate both KERA for hosting it and my dad for already being such a fan. Of course, no gratitude recitation would be complete without a Texas-sized thank you to the members of Monty Python themselves. So, to John Cleese, Michael Palin, Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam and the two late greats Terry Jones and Graham Chapman.

Now that my son has seen it, it has become a three-generational affair. If he starts his own family, I hope that’s something he passes on once again. And that’s the problem with British Humor and Python in particular: It gets funnier every time I see it. I enjoy them for their puns, their biting political commentary, their classical and historical references, and their boldness in challenging social norms in ways no one expects.

See? Person Never waiting for him.

We have another blog post coming for December, so stay tuned. And, if you like what we do here, consider joining the Sector M Patreon. Either way, stay safe on your Thanksgiving travels, pace yourself, and take plenty of naps. Thanks for reading!