For second-wave Boomers (and GenXers), the last Monty Python show on July 20, simulcast throughout the world, was our one last chance to see the British comedy troop live on stage. Here in Indianapolis, is was shown at the Galaxy 14 on 96th St. and at AMC Indianapolis 17 on the south side.
In 1969, Monty Python’s Flying Circus debuted on BBC in the U.K. where it became wildly popular with the younger set in short order. Comprised of Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, Michael Palin, Carol Cleveland (the 8th Python), and animator Terry Gilliam, Monty Python introduced the world to humor that was smart, irreverent, absurd, surreal — and baffling to the older generation, which made them all the more popular among the teen and pre-teen set in Britain. A British friend recounted that the day after the “Spam” sketch aired, his schoolmates marched up and down the corridors of their school singing “Spam, spam, spam, spam, lovely spam! Wonderful spam!” until the teachers threatened them with bodily harm. The show ended in 1974, after Cleese left and the other members agreed that the quality of the show had fallen. When it came to the U.S. in the mid-70s, many baby-Baby Boomers embraced the show just as eagerly as our British counterparts, gleefully memorizing sketches like “The Dead Parrot,” “Cheese Shop,” “Spam,” “The Spanish Inquisition,” “The Lumberjack Song,” and many others. The phenomenon wasn’t as widespread in the U.S., but for a certain subset of baby-Baby Boomers, Monty Python was a critical part of our formative years. We were the not-cool kids — so not-cool that we were ultra cool, with our own secret language (“Say-no-more-wink-wink-nudge-nudge,” “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!,” “This is an ex-parrot”).
I was introduced to Monty Python via Canadian Broadcasting Company in the early 1970s. CBC imported many British shows, including the popular soaps like Coronation Street and music shows like Supersonic for the British immigrants that flocked to Canada in the 60s and 70s. Since we lived in Michigan near the Canadian border, it was easy to pick up CBC in those pre-cable days. The CBC carried the uncut Flying Circus late at night, so I would scurry up to my bedroom and turn the rabbit ears of my TV to pick up the signals from across the lake. (This how I became a night owl Anglophile.) In 1975-ish, when PBS stations started airing the episodes in the United States, they censored out naughty bits and edited other parts out deemed too weirdly British. I learned later that one of my second cousins (Colin) worked for Python during the filming of one season of the show, and was an extra Scotsman in the “Alien Blancmange” sketch (the family dog can also be seen in that sketch). Colin told me that John Cleese was “completely insane” and difficult on the set, while the others seemed almost normal.
Monty Python also produced films, most notably Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), Life of Brian (1979), and The Meaning of Life (1983). The films brought even more attention to Monty Python’s TV show, which continued to be aired on PBS occasionally, then was available in VHS box sets, then DVDs, and are now available online.
The Pythons went their separate ways after Flying Circus, but never officially broke up. They were seen together in films like Cleese and Palin in A Fish Called Wanda, or doing Amnesty International charity events like the Secret Policeman’s Ball. Cleese also created what is arguably the best British sitcom of all time, Fawlty Towers. Eric Idle made the Broadway hit Spamalot, based on the Holy Grail film. Terry Jones has directed some fine films, as has Terry Gilliam. Palin has done many travel and history programs that are interesting and entertaining. Graham Chapman died in 1989 from cancer.
Monty Python, like the Beatles, had an oversized influence on pop culture. If you use e-mail, you’re familiar with the term “spam” for unwanted mass e-mails. In the Monty Python sketch of the same name, everything on the menu of a diner has Spam in it, and the waitress repeats the word several times. Then, a group of Vikings in the corner start the Spam song: “Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, lovely spam! Wonderful spam!” until they’re told to shut up. The term became known as something that is repeated endlessly and irritatingly — just like those stupid e-mails. There is a programming language called Python, asteroids named after the group’s members, a prehistoric snake named after them (Montypythonoides riversleighensis), and countless comics and writers influenced by their humor.
At the O2 in London at 7:30 p.m. BST (2:30 p.m. EDT), on July 20, the Pythons game together one last time to treat thousands of fans worldwide to dead parrots, silly walks, argument rooms, penguins on the telly, the drinking habits of philosphers, and other nonsense. The 100 or so Boomers, Xers, and Millenials in the audience with me on the south side mouthed the words, sang along, and remembered. At the end, as we whistled “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” and the lights went up, there were a few tears shed for the end of a comic era.
It was a silly sketch. And now for owl stretching time.
