Movie Review: Monty Python Live (Mostly)

4 stars out of 5

Pallbearers carrying a coffin along a country road.

This was my first memory of Monty Python. I was too young to watch it—my parents were watching, I suppose?—but the scene caught my eye.

One of the pallbearers collapsed. The other pallbearers took notice, put the coffin down, opened it, put their fallen comrade inside, closed and lifted it… and carried on.

Hilarious. Ingenious. It stuck with me.

I’d see the scene again some years later when I was devouring the Monty Python’s Flying Circus repeats on PBS. Tween me loved loved loved it, and did teen me. The show had an enormous impact on my appreciation of the absurd. They could be amazingly smart and ridiculously silly in the same sentence, in the same motion. And of course there were the movies. And the albums. And The Big Red Book. When my dad and I were in London when I was 14 or 15, I looked in the phone book for Monty Python and came up empty but I did buy Graham Chapman’s A Liar’s Biography. Everything, I needed to see/hear/read everything.

But except for The Meaning of Life, all true Python projects were past-tense by the time I’d discovered them. Sure, there were solo projects (Brazil, A Fish Called Wanda, etc. etc.). But I kept craving Python. In recent years, Netflix allowed me to see their earlier TV work, At Last the 1948 Show and Do Not Adjust Your Set. It was a good fix. But never enough.

So I was thrilled to hear the surviving members would be doing reunion shows. And then hugely disappointed that they weren’t coming to the United States. And then excited again to learn that one of the concerts would be simulcast in movie theaters.

Which I saw yesterday. And it was pretty excellent.

Now, is a live concert simulcast actually a movie? I don’t know, but I’m already 300+ words in, so I might as well keep writing this.

I knew the Manhattan showing was sold out (at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon), but I was a little surprised that a large theater in Edgewater, New Jersey, was also pretty packed. It was an older, nerdy crowd, as you might imagine. (Yelling out answers to the projected trivia questions before the event, etc.) And I’ve never gone to see opera simulcasts or anything, so this was a fun new experience for me.

Now, what would we want ideally? All-new sketches that become instant classics? Well, sure, but that seems like too much to wish for. So how about seeing the living Pythons perform a whole bunch of our favorite sketches and songs? That would be OK with me. And it totally was.

They’re older, of course. (The original series ran from 1969-74.) That added to the charm, I think, and added a touch of poignance. (The subtitle, “One Down, Five to Go” is a dark and funny nod to their ceased-to-be friend Graham, who is referred to several times.) They read off TelePrompters. There are flubs, and breaks. Sometimes these are the best parts. They look at each other and begin to laugh and it’s special to peek in on all that shared history.

If I have a gripe, it’s that there was just a little too much singing and dancing. Now, of course, music was always a huge part of Python, and it is excellent to hear those tunes again. But my guess is, Eric Idle had so much success with Spamalot that he pushed to bring more production numbers into this show. (I think it also gives the cast an opportunity to rest off-stage, which is fine by me.) I never saw Spamalot; it seemed like the sort of thing that Python should be making fun of, rather than actually doing.

Classic bits, that’s what we want, and we do get ’em. Bruces and the Argument Clinic and Mr. Gumby and nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition and Spam Spam Spam wonderful Spam and a penguin on the television set and I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK and nudge nudge wink wink say no more and more and more and more and yes, of course that dead parrot. It was fascinating to be reminded how much I’d learned from the show—names of philosophers and moments in history and bits of Spanish (“Cuidado! Las llamas!”) and on and on—in-between the silliness. They dress in drag and there are classic Gilliam animations and beloved bits on video and a couple of surprise cameos and it’s all pretty great.

Everyone seemed pretty sharp. Cleese maybe flubbed his lines the most, but no worries. Terry Jones had to read off a card a couple of times but he also looked better than ever dressed as an old woman. Michael Palin was in the best shape physically and still has that razor-sharp comedic delivery. Eric Idle’s mustache was falling off during nudge nudge but he’s still the best showman of the troupe. Terry Gilliam is a world-class filmmaker who is willing to have faux-vomit poured on his head or be suspended by wires while his stomach explodes, just to spend time with his old pals. And I was very, very happy that they included Carol Cleveland—the one actual woman from the old series—and worked her into many of the routines. She looks great.

The event cost more than a regular movie ($18 in New Jersey). And there was a half-hour intermission, which I imagine will be trimmed from future screenings. (It will be shown again this Wednesday and Thursday, and then is making the rounds of some other theaters.) And though it wasn’t exactly like attending a real show, we did applaud and sing along many times.

Supposedly this is the end of the road for the Pythons. If so, they’ve given us so very much, and it’s wonderful to have this one final gift. Though it might make sense to do the pallbearer sketch one last time….