Monty Python's Flying CircusBy Sean Axmaker
In 1969, five overeducated British comics and an American illustrator
invaded the homes of unsuspecting BBC viewers with a brand of comedy that
was, at the very least, odd. "Absurd," "bizarre," and
"incomprehensible" are other descriptions that jump to mind.
Nonetheless, this wacky sextet inaugurated an absurd tradition that
continued through three and a half seasons of half-hour TV episodes, a
series of live performances, a handful of movies, and a legacy of dead
parrots and upper-class twits.
Episodes 1-6:
Monty
Python's Flying Circus, Set 1 features the first episodes
foisted on a still-reeling public, introducing running gags ("And now
for something completely different") and recurring characters (an
armor-clad Terry Gilliam wielding a rubber chicken, Graham Chapman's
pompous Colonel intruding on sketches he deems simply too silly, and of
course Michael Palin's "It's a Man" wandered through the entire
season). Among the sketch highlights in the first three shows are Nudge
Nudge, the Funniest Joke in the World, How to Defend Yourself from a Man
Attacking You with Fresh Fruit, How to Confuse a Cat, and The Dull Life of
a City Stockbroker, all interspersed with various and sundry cut-out
animation sequences by Terry Gilliam. These early episodes may lack the
consistency and stream-of-consciousness flow of their later, more assured
work, but they're packed with some of the most memorable moments of the
group's brief but brilliant history. --Sean Axmaker
Michael Palin, haggard and exhausted under a scraggly beard and wild
hair, crawls out of the ocean (or the forest or a side of a mountain) and
croaks the now-infamous "It's...." Suddenly, the "Liberty
Bell" march pounds over the cut-out animation of Terry Gilliam. It's
another episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus. No comedy has
inspired such a fanatical following before or since, and the 45 episodes
turned out by the group in their all-too-brief three and a half seasons
have become classics. This set presents the final seven episodes of their
inaugural season, a time of trial and error for the group as they
perfected the elusive free-association structure that would define the
wacky comedy. Connecting such all-time classics as the Lumberjack Song,
the Dead Parrot sketch, and the epic Science Fiction sketch (featuring the
tennis mad Blancmanges from outer space) are the ubiquitous letters to the
BBC, Terry Gilliam's whimsical and ridiculous animated inserts, and John
Cleese announcing, "And now for something completely different"
with all the authority of a BBC announcer who suddenly finds his news desk
hijacked by mobsters. The Pythons hit their first-season stride in the
middle episodes, in which brilliant sketches and strange and wonderful
linking gags come together with an absurd logic, but if the final episodes
of the series flag compared to their comic peak, their brand of comic
madness infects every episode with moments of pure lunatic magic. --Sean
Axmaker
What do you do for an encore after confounding the general public with
something completely different? Simple: give them something more
completely different, from a semaphore version of Wuthering Heights
to the last meeting of the Society for Putting Things on Top of Other
Things (you were expecting the Spanish Inquisition?). This two-volume set
contains for the first time on DVD in chronological order the first six
episodes from Monty Python's second season. No sophomore slump
here. Episodes 14-19, which originally aired in 1970, contain the
signature Python sketches The Ministry of Silly Walks and The Spanish
Inquisition. Also in the Python pantheon are the documentary about The
Piranha Brothers and their reign of violence and sarcasm, The Architect
Sketch, and the scandalous game show Blackmail. While the sketches,
filmed bits, and Terry Gilliam animations are enduringly silly, Monty
Python's Flying Circus remains a loony marvel in the way it shattered
television convention. In Episode 15, a clueless Graham Chapman
character is recruited to be the straight man in a sketch, but is not
given the punch line. In the same show, the dreaded, but tardy, Spanish
Inquisition races to make its entrance before the closing credits run
their course. All three volumes are indispensable for Python completists.
--Donald Liebenson
More "humorous vignettes and spoofs" from the second
groundbreaking season of Monty Python's Flying Circus. This set
contains episodes 20 through 26, available for the first time on DVD
in chronological order. Included are signature sketches that were adapted
for the Pythons' first film, And Now for Something Completely Different,
such as How Not to Be Seen, Conrad Poohs and His Dancing Teeth, the
camped-up military drill, and the alleged English-Hungarian phrasebook
(the Hungarian phrase meaning "Can you direct me to the
station?" is translated by the English phrase "Please fondle my
bum"). Also on the menu are such tasty classics as Spam; the Lifeboat
and Undertaker cannibalism sketches and spam; spam, spam, the Man Who Says
Things in a Very Roundabout Way and spam; Spam, spam, the Hospital for
Over-Acting and spam; spam, The Exploding Version of the Blue Danube and
spam; The Death of Mary Queen of Scots and spam. "And, of course,
there's sport." Not content with forgoing traditional punch lines, Monty
Python further subverted television convention with these episodes. In
Episode 23, for example, the credits don't appear until midway
through. They further demonstrate why Entertainment Weekly ranked
Monty Python No. 77 (only 77th?) among the top 100 entertainers of
the last half of the 20th century. --Donald Liebenson
This set contains six "persistently silly" episodes from
Monty Python's third and final full season (the ones introduced by Terry
Jones's naked keyboardist). The quality of the sketches is not as
consistent as it was in the first two seasons, but no Monty Python
collection is complete without such series benchmarks as Njorl's Saga, an
exciting Icelandic tale appropriated by the North Malden Icelandic
Society; a courtroom burlesque featuring Eric Idle as a very apologetic
mass murderer; the Argument Clinic sketch; Gumby brain surgery; and the
Fish-Slapping Dance, which Michael Palin is on record as saying is his
personal favorite bit of Python nonsense. A warning to more sensitive
viewers: There is "material that some may find offensive, but which
is really smashing," as well as blatant violations of something
called the "Strange Sketch Act." Chief among these is the one in
which Terry Jones appears as a pitiable man whose every utterance reduces
listeners to hysterical fits of laughter; the ill-fated expedition to Lake
Pahoe (located at 22A Runcorn Avenue); and an in-person documentary about
the sex life of the mollusk, from the scallop ("second in depravity
only to the common clam") to the whelk ("gay boy of the
gastropods"). Episode 30 has the distinction of featuring two of
the most hilariously annoying characters Monty Python ever perpetrated on
the public: John Cleese as Miss Anne Elk, who has a theory on
brontosauruses, and Idle as the extremely loquacious Mr. Smoke-Too-Much. --Donald
Liebenson
Six more opportunities to "Spot the Looney." This boxed set
contains the final six episodes from the third and last full season of Monty
Python's Flying Circus. More discriminating Monty Python fans are
directed to episodes from seasons 1 and 2, also available on VHS and
DVD. But completists can fast-forward or click through clunkers such as
Prices on the Planet Algon or the rather obvious game-show sketch
Prejudice to such beloved sketches from the Python pantheon as The Cheese
Shop, a fermented curd variation on the famed Parrot Sketch, in which John
Cleese is unable to get any "cheesy comestibles" from woefully
under stocked proprietor Michael Palin; the extended epic Cycling Tour,
perhaps Palin's finest half-hour; the increasingly surreal Tudor Jobs
Agency, in which an intrepid smut confiscator (Palin again) finds himself
seemingly transported back to Elizabethan times, where he turns "the
tide of Spanish porn"; Cleese's lupin-stealing highwayman Dennis
Moore; the Oscar Wilde Sketch, in which Wilde (Graham Chapman), Whistler
(Cleese), and Shaw (Palin) match wits in an escalatingly profane game of
verbal one-upmanship ("Your Highness is like a stream of bat's
piss....") and the self-explanatory Dirty Vicar Sketch. --Donald
Liebenson
Don't expect the Spanish Inquisition in these six episodes from the
fourth--and final--half-season of Monty Python's Flying Circus. By
this time (1974), John Cleese had departed. His absence is keenly felt,
but Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, Michael Palin, and Terry
Gilliam--with invaluable assist from Carol Cleveland, Douglas Adams
(author of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy), and songwriter
Neil Innes--pick up the slack with some of the most surreal material
Python ever produced. Like the third season's Cycling Tour, several of
these episodes, including The Golden Age of Ballooning, Michael Ellis (set
mostly in a very silly department store), and Mr. Neutron, are extended,
near-program-length sketches. But there are memorable bits throughout:
some indecipherable RAF Banter ("Bally Jerry hanged his kite right in
the how's-your-father"); a Hamlet tired of people wanting him to
recite "To Be or Not to Be"; a parade of bogus psychiatrists; a
doctor whose nurse keeps stabbing, shooting, or garroting his patients;
and The Most Awful Family in Britain competition, which achieves "the
really gross awfulness that we're looking for." These episodes do not
loom large in the Python legend, except perhaps as the basis for a lawsuit
the troupe filed in 1975 against ABC, which aired them during late night
in severely tampered-with versions. While, literally speaking, no Monty
Python collection is complete without this box set, initiates are bound to
watch these episodes with a disappointed, "Well, what's all this
then?" --Donald Liebenson
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