A Monty Python Legacy
The countdown had started. White numbers stood in the bottom right corning, slamming down in a decreasing formation. Snippets infiltrated the atmosphere as well as jaunty music that I’d heard my whole life. The smell of freshly popped corn mixed with the aftershave of patrons who made an effort as though this screen were an open glorious stage. Families gathered happily, excitedly as the tunes of Eric Idle perforated the chatter. Sat beside my father, in a moment we’ve been waiting months for, I felt blissful; as though I could easily curl up against him and chuckle at the jokes again as though I were ten again. And instantly, I was remembered exactly why Monty Python were the most important comedic troop of all time.
Spanning an impressive career of 35 years, the remaining actors of the comedic group gathered for their last show of a rather marvellous run at the O2 arena. I doubt any of you will begrudge me for not, in large amounts of depth, excavate the historical background of Monty Python because I imagine you can say it with verbatim (as I am largely assuming you all know about Monty Python.) Nor is this a heavy handed review of all the movies because I have done them before. What I wanted to talk to you, if you allow me, were the complete and utter world that they immersed generations with.
Seeing them cavort on stage after all this time, was such a delightful experience for everyone involved. Whether you bought tickets for the live extravaganza, or tickets for the cinema. Perhaps you caught it on Gold. Either way, you were compelled to watch it, Monty Python meant that much too you. With my father beside me, I watched these men I had admired for my entire life do what they do best: make us laugh. That may be in the comedy they’d expertly written, their intellectual silliness or their chemistry being so poignant that they dissolve into fits of tears with one another even after decades, but Monty Python have tickled us for so long, they now feel like Uncles: albeit a little bit drunken.
Though perhaps the event was a little bit dismayed in my local cinema where few patrons decided they’d sing along (the few times I’ll allow people to talk during a feature, mind,) and I had a few stares for opening my lungs and rolling air over my tongue in a massive guffaw. But that was the only dampner of the evening, I was enthralled. The spectrum of colours, the impressive dance routines to filthy and comedic movies, the way the men charged through the jokes and made them bigger, brighter and bolder. The audience lapped it up (the ones on screen because apparently the ones in my cinema were expecting something completely different,) and my Dad and I were in hysterics. Hysterics I tell you!
The thing is, is that Monty Python have always been there. For as long as I can remember, actually. Though it wasn’t until I was eight when I stumbled into the house and caught The Life of Brian being played (a time where parents were nonplussed by age restrictions on movies,) it has actually been around my entire life with little phrases slipped into my Dad’s diction as though his tongue wagged Python scripts. When I was introduced to it, my soul gradually bent to it and my life was lighter. I became closer with my Dad, with my sister and I found friends through the humour. It’s a connection, it’s almost a lifestyle.
Monty Python have marked 35 years of captivating audiences and have practically birthed a generation in wicked laughs and humour. They allow people to be smart and silly, to be shameless and explored different lengths of comedy from wild pun rampages to religious satire. Seeing them together and in their final performances brought back how much they mean to the United Kingdom. Slews of families, friends and lovers will be grateful.
Monty Python, bravo for a successful show.
Bravo for a successful career
And thank you.