Cleaning Out The DVR: And Now For Something Completely Different (dir by Ian MacNaughton and Terry Gilliam)


A tall, dark-haired British man sits behind a desk that is rather oddly sitting in the middle of a field.  He wears a dark suit and he looks quite serious as he says, “And now, for something completely different….”

Cut to a short film about a man with a tape recorder up his nose, followed by another short film about man who has a tape recorder up his brother’s nose.

A Hungarian man tries to buy cigarettes while using an inaccurate English phrasebook.  The publisher of the phrasebook is later brought before the court.

Poor old Arthur Pewty goes to marriage counseling and can only watch impotently as the counselor seduces his wife.  Having filed to stand up for himself, Pewty is crushed by 16-ton weight.

A self-defense instructor teaches his students how to defend themselves when they are attacked by a man with a banana.

A loquacious man in a pub says “nude nudge” and “wink wink” until his drinking companion is finally forced to slam down his drink.

A man who sees double recruits a mountaineer to climb the two peaks of Mt. Kilimanjaro.  Hopefully, they’ll be able to find last year’s expedition, which was planning on building a bridge between the two peaks.

There’s bizarre, almost Dadaist animation, featuring classic works of art interacting with cartoonish cut-outs.

Uncle Sam appears to explain how communism is like tooth decay.  A toothpase commercial explains how taking care of your teeth is like racing a car.  A motor oil company shows how it can destroy darkness and grim.

A prince dies of cancer but the spot on his face flourishes until it falls in love and moves into a housing development.

A man tries to return a dead pigeon.  The store clerk insists the pigeon is merely stunned and then sings about wanting to be a lumberjack.

A general complains that things have gotten much too silly.

The narrator appears randomly, announcing, “And now for something completely different….”

Okay, okay, you get the idea.  First released in 1971, And Now For Something Completely Different was the first film to be made featuring all of the members of Monty Python’s Flying Circus.  It was their initial attempt to break into the American market, a collection of surreal sketches that they had previously performed on television for the BBC.  Unfortunately, at the time, no one in America really knew who Monty Python was and the film failed at the box office, to the extent that many in the UK advised against Monty Python even allowing their program to later air on PBS because it was felt that Americans just wouldn’t get it.  Of course, Americans did eventually get it.  The show remains popular to this very day.  Countless Americans are convinced that they can speak in a perfectly convincing British accent, as long as they’re quoting a line from Monty Python.  The previous 4th of July, when the town band played John Philip Sousa’s Liberty Bell, I saw hundreds of people stamping down their feet at the end of it.  As for And Now For Something Completely Different, it was re-released in 1974 and became a bit of a cult favorite in the States.

That said, the members of Monty Python were never particularly happy with the film.  They were convinced to make the film by Victor Lownes, who was the head of Playboy’s UK operation.  Lownes, however, alienated the members of the group by trying to exert control over the material.  He particularly objected to the character of Ken Shabby, a perv who probably had a stash of sticky Playboys back at this flat.  Lownes also put up very little money for the production, meaning that the Pythons had to resort to shooting the film, without an audience, in a deserted factory.  Apparently, even the deliberately cheap-looking special effects of the television show were considered to be too expensive to recreate for the film.  Michael Palin and Terry Jones both later complained that the film itself was series of scenes featuring people telling jokes while sitting behind desks.

Of course, Lownes’s biggest sin was trying to insinuate that he was somehow the Seventh Python.  (One can only imagine how many people were guilty of the sin over the years.  Claiming to be the Seventh Python was probably a bit like claiming to be the Fifth Beatle.)  When Terry Gilliam was animating the film’s opening credits, the names of the cast were shown in blocks of stone.  Lownes insisted that his name by listed the same way.  Gilliam reluctantly acquiesced but then redid the names of the Pythons so that they were no longer in stone.  Fortunately, Victor Lownes would not involved in the subsequent Python films.

All that said, there’s no denying that And Now For Something Completely Different is a funny movie.  I mean, it’s Monty Python.  It’s John Cleese, Michael Palin, Graham Chapman, Eric Idle, Terry Jones and Terry Gilliam, all youthful and at the heights of their considerable comedic talents.  Even if all of the sketches are familiar from the show, they’re still funny and it’s impossible not to enjoy discovering the way that the movie threads them together.  (Combining the Lumberjack song with the dead parrot sketch worked out brilliantly.  “What about my bloody parrot!?” Cleese is heard to shout as Palin walks through the forests of British Columbia.)  Personally, my favorite Python is Eric Idle but I also love any sketch that involves Michael Palin getting on John Cleese’s nerves.  Everyone knows the dead parrot sketch, of course.  But I also like the vocational guidance counselor sketch.  It’s hard not to get caught up in Palin’s excitement as he discusses his lion tamer’s hat.  Almost as wonderful as Palin’s turn as Herbert Anchovy, accountant was Michael Palin’s turn as the smarmy host of Blackmail.  Actually, maybe Michael Palin is my favorite Python.  I guess it’s a tie between him and Eric.

And Now For Something Different has been on my DVR for quite some time.  I’ve watched it several times.  I’m not planning on deleting it any time soon.

Terry Jones, RIP


I just heard the incredibly sad news that Terry Jones has died.  Jones, who was one of the founders of Monty Python and a respected medieval scholar, was 77 years old.  It was announced three years ago that Jones was suffering from a rare form of dementia so his death was not unexpected but it still hurts.

When I was a kid and I was watching Monty Python’s Flying Circus for the first time, I initially did not fully appreciated Terry Jones.  I liked him because I liked every member of Monty Python and every British comedy fan grows up wishing that they could have been a member of the group.  (My favorite was Eric Idle.)  But it was sometimes easy to overlook  Terry Jones’s performance on the show because his characters were rarely as flamboyant as some of the other ones.  He was never as grumpy as John Cleese nor was he as sarcastic as Eric Idle.  Michael Palin (who was Jones’s writing partner long before the two of them become members of Monty Python) cornered the market on both unctuous hosts and passive aggressive countermen.  Meanwhile, Graham Chapman played most of the upright authority figures and Terry Gilliam provided animation.  Terry Jones, meanwhile, often played screeching women and bobbies who said, “What’s all this then?”

It was only as I got older and I came to better appreciate the hard work that goes into being funny that I came to appreciate Terry Jones and his ability to always nail the perfect reaction to whatever lunacy was occurring around him.  It was also as I got older that I started to learn about the origins of Monty Python and what went on behind the scenes.  I learned that Terry Jones was a key player.  Along with writing some of Monty Python‘s most memorable material, he also directed or co-directed their films.  On the sets of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Life of Brian, and The Meaning of Life, Jones provided the structure that kept those films from just devolving into a collection of skits.

Unlike the other members of Monty Python, Terry Jones never really went out of his way to establish an acting career outside of the group.  Instead, he wrote screenplays and serious books on both medieval history and Geoffrey Chaucer.  Appropriately, for a member of the troupe that changed the face of comedy, Jones often challenged the conventional views of history.  Terry Jones was the only man in Britain brave enough to defend the Barbarians.

On the last day of the ninth grade, my English teacher, Mr. Davis, rewarded us for our hard work by showing us what he said was the funniest scene in film history.  The scene that he showed us came from the Terry Jones-directed Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life and it featured Jones giving a literally explosive performance as Mr. Creosote.

With thanks to both Mr. Davis and Terry Jones:

Terry Jones, Rest in Peace.

Monty Python’s Election Night Special!


As we wait for the polls to close in the UK election and for the results to start coming in, this seems like a good time to share my favorite Monty Python sketch.

Of note: Though the sketch predates the real-life party’s founding by two decades, the Silly Party appears to have the same colors at the UKIP.

As for today’s election, I’m predicting a Plaid Cymru upset.

Scenes That I Love: Dennis Moore And His Horse Concorde


dennis moore

So, what did you do on Sunday night?

Myself, I watched The Adventures of Robin Hood on TCM.  There I was, watching the film and posting comments on twitter about how superior Errol Flynn’s Robin Hood was to Russell Crowe’s when suddenly I realized that a lot of very strange tweets were appearing on my timeline.

One person tweeted, “WHAT THE FUCK, GAME OF THRONES!?”

Another tweeted: “OMG!  #GoT”

And my personal favorite: “no, no, no, no, no #GameOfThrones.”

Later, I discovered that these people were reacting to the Red Wedding on Game Of Thrones.  I have been using twitter since 2009 and I have never before seen so much anger and sadness as I did last night after the Starks were massacred on HBO.

Don’t get me wrong.  I enjoy Game Of Thrones and I DVR every episode but, at that moment, I was really happy to be watching The Adventures of Robin Hood.

Whenever I watch The Adventures of Robin Hood, I think about one of my favorite Monty Python skits, the story of Dennis Moore, the highwayman who attempts to steal from the rich and give to the poor and discovers that the redistribution of wealth isn’t as easy as he originally figured.

Or, as the Dennis Moore theme song puts it: “He steals from the poor and gives to the rich … Stupid bitch!”

In honor of The Adventures of Robin Hood, I figured why not share this classic skit?  If nothing else, maybe a little absurdist comedy is just what the doctor ordered for those of you who still haven’t recovered from the Red Wedding…

Scenes That I Love: Confuse-A-Cat


Being on vacation, I can’t help but worry about how Doc is doing.  For those of you who may not know, Doc is the black cat who owns me and Erin.  Along with being adorable, cute, and lovable, Doc is also the world’s leading expert in the field of feline ennui.  When he meows, he simply says, “Meh,” and it’s not unusual for me to come home and discover that he’s wearing a red beret and chewing on a cigarette holder.

Naturally, it’s hard for me not to worry that he may be stuck in a rut without me being there and I can only hope that, if he is, Erin will take a lesson from today’s scene that I love.  From Monty Python’s Flying Circus, here comes Confuse-A-Cat.

Quick Review: Time Bandits (dir. by Terry Gilliam)


My parents used to have some strange movies growing up. Time Bandits is one of those films that I kind of stumbled on, but grew to be one of my favorite British films. It was my gateway drug to all things Monty Python.

Produced by former Beatle George Harrison and his company, Hand Made Films and running off the success of Monty Python’s Life of Brian, Time Bandits runs off of a simple premise. The Supreme Being once had a map of all the points in time on Earth. A group of his servants steal this map in order to travel through time and use it to plunder various historical figures of their loot. Granted, it’s a strange story, but if you’ve watched anything Gilliam’s done, this film actually works (or did for me when I saw it).

Our story opens with a boy named Kevin (Craig Warnock), who dreams of a more interesting life than the one he shares with his parents while watching tv. One night, a set of little people dressed in steampunk attire climb out of his closet and threaten him bodily harm unless he tells them how to escape his dimension. They manage to locate an exit, only to be pursued by The Supreme Being, who warns them to return the map they’ve stolen from him. If I remember nothing else from this film, that one scene will always stay with me.

The crew, led by Randall (David Rappaport) arrive during Napoleon’s time (played quite convincingly by Ian Holm) and manage to become generals in his army after impressing him with a rendition of “Me and My Shadow”. This, coupled with their size helped out, I’m sure. As thanks for being part of his army, they get Napoleon drunk until he passes out and collect most of his loot before finding another time portal and leaping into Robin Hood’s time. Unfortunately for the Time Bandits, Robin Hood (John Cleese) assumes they’ve arrived to give their ill begotten goods to the poor and promptly gives it all away to them.

In the midst of figuring out their next step, the Bandits run into The Supreme Being again and distract him, giving Kevin a chance to escape on his own. However, when two portals open before him, he chooses the wrong one and ends up in Ancient Greece with King Agememnon (Sean Connery), who adopts Kevin as a Prince. Before he can fully enjoy it, however, the Bandits show up and “free” from the time period he doesn’t belong in.

There’s more to the tale, but let’s just say that the Evil Genius (one of David Warner’s best roles in my opinion – he had a knack for playing bad guys) gets wind of the Map and hatches his own plan to acquire it and use it for nefarious deeds.

The beauty of Time Bandits is the world it creates. Though grounded in real time periods, the fantasy elements are pretty interesting, much like Brazil was. Giants who wear ships on their heads, Ogres and creates with cow skulls for heads make up some of the strange visions Terry Gilliam brings to this story. Overall, it’s a fun and unique tale that’s good for at least a late night viewing, and one that I return to from time to time.