It's the end of Season 2, and Monty Python is an established hit in Great Britain. They've formed their own corporate entity, Python (Monty) LLC, and claimed ownership of the written material for their show. This allows them to spin it off-- into movies, as we've seen-- without any participation from the BBC. It also allows them to produce records.
The first record was produced by the BBC, and it was a disaster. Recorded live in front of a tepid audience, in mono, (nobody told Chapman,) the record was the album equivalent of their first movie-- a rote regurgitation of their televised sketches, lacking the inspiration and insanity that made the sketches work in the first place. None of the Pythons were happy with the result. They resolved that this time, things would be different.
Leaving the BBC behind, they signed with Charisma records to make their albums. They found themselves in a hippy recording studio with a stoned out engineer, who didn't label the tapes because his head wasn't in that space. As a result, getting things in the proper order became a challenge. Add to that indignity a pick-up engineer who recorded on a 4-track out of his garden shed. (Arthur "Two Sheds" Jackson.) What up, Brits? Don't you know these guys are movie stars now?
Despite these challenges, the lads took to creating the album with all the fervor they bring to their shows. There's new material, they break up the sketches, create new linking bits, and embrace the comic possibilities of the non-visual medium. Their innovations extend beyond the album itself, to the album cover (a scribbled out Beethoven cover with the words "Another Monty Python Record" written up in the corner,) and the liner notes (a history of Beethoven's genius at Wimbledon) as well as material supplementary to some of the bits on the album. It kind of puts their limp-wristed movie to shame. Let's check it out...
Pastoral chirps of birds (or are they sheep?) back up a Palin-voiced apology; this album has nothing to do with MPFC, is actually a collection of Norwegian Carpenter Songs. A Cleese apology apologizes for the apology. This is indeed MPFK, says Cleese, amusement coloring his voice. Guess what comes next? Whoever said "Norwegian Carpenter Songs", you win a Norwegian Carpenter! The song itself is goofball great, and a narrator describes the violent dance that accompanies said song. Cleese gets us back on track, though, and the titles music plays.
The theme song is cut off by church bells announcing New Year's Eve in Jarrow. (We lose that nice joke the show had, which makes me wonder why they included the bells in the first place.) They bring out the big guns right away. It's the Spanish Inquisition! (Interrupted by a brief and unnecessary apology.) When the Cardinals make their entrance, there's no orchestra bang-- just the sound of ...cracking wood? A sound proof door swooshing open? A sick lion? Palin changes the last weapon to "a nightcap with the neighbor" instead of "pretty red costumes". They stop the bit pretty quickly, with Gilliam offering a sketch or a quickie. Cleveland takes the sketch. Poor Terry.
Fanfare precedes World Forum. Idle sounds more snotty than humble, and he lapses into game show host a little early, but the sketch, with additional audience sweetening, works as well as ever. Idle was made for records, his voice a comfortable touchstone, quick and facile with his words. Jones gives Karl Marx a couple of inane lines, which is funny-- an important German saying "A little, yes" when asked if he's nervous. Is that Chapman as Mao?
Palin calls in with a complaint about the pervasive Communist propaganda of the last sketch, in a nice adaptation of Monty Python's frequent riffing on complaint letters. ("Ohhh! They [the Communists] are peeking out of my wife's blouse!") Cleese follows with an introduction to-- yes! Gumby Theater! In another new bit, the lads give a long and impressive build-up to the Gumbys performing Checkov's "The Cherry Orchard", and of course, the performance itself is less Masterpiece Theatre and more Demolition Derby. "Hello!... Sorry!... I got my head stuck in the cupboard!" Idle then introduces "A Book at Bedtime" read by a Gumby. This bit is sweet as well as funny. The Gumbys are the first communal Python creation, and it's clear that all of the lads love them. I'm thrilled they made it to the record. The bit is hysterical!
Now, back to the old stuff. Cleese introduces the man who contradicts people, playing the part not quite as well as Palin. Jones' gruff tones rattle the ears a bit. A gong takes us back to the Norwegian Dances again, with description. Then we race on over to the Architect Sketch, with some additional mumbling from the Masons in attendance. The sketch gets as far as Cleese's big monologue and dismissal. His final "I nearly got in at Hendon," is way off mic and very funny. The next architect is not Idle, but-- The Spanish Inquisition! "Our chief weapon is surprise. That's all. Just surprise" Palin announces. Chapman and Jones correct him. "What about fear?" Palin goes on with his monologue, but when he finishes, everyone has gone, having tea in the other room with the architects.
In a rare holdover that doesn't really fit, Idle announces a choice of viewing before Ethel the Frog. This is the bit about the Dinsdale Brothers. Palin introduces instead of Cleese, without the frantic speed and energy that Cleese brought to it. But Cleese takes over as narrator, and all's well. It's astonishing how well the sketch translates to audio only. Cleese, as the female impersonator, describes spiny as "12 feet from his head to his anus," instead of "from snout to tail." The sketch ends with Cleese being interrupted by Palin's Vercotti, sent by Dinsdale to stop the sketch. Palin vandalizes the actual record we're listening to. "Sorry, Squire-- I scratched the record/Sorry, Squire-- I scratched the record..." the record skips over and over, until we get to the end of Side 1.
Side 2 begins with the Death of Mary, Queen of Scots. It makes sense that they would use material created for radio on their TV show, to put on the album. It does go on a bit, at over 2 1/2 minutes, but it's funny, so, all good. The exploding radio takes us to the Pepperpots, a bit more somber when they're not in front of a live audience, but equally hysterical-- perhaps even more so. "How to Recognize Different Parts of the Body" follows, interrupted by-- The Spanish Inquisition! Why couldn't they do this in the movie?! When Palin brings out the soft cushions, there's a long orchestra bang. The comfy chair brings a 3-note symphony, and as everyone asks, ala Gilliam, "The comfy chair?", we fade into a quiz, which is essentially an excuse for funny sound effects. (Spoiler alert; Visconti!)
To great fanfare, Jones announces (from what sounds like a slight distance) "How to Be a Great Actor." He could use some echo or something-- it sounds like he's shouting through a paper tube. The bit itself, another original, makes great use of the buzzer. The idea is, they put you in scenes as Olivier or whoever, and you, cued by a buzzer, say their lines, written by a "great bearded playwright." Cleveland plays the scene with the buzzer, very well. It's great to see the lads having such fun with their new medium.
Idle introduces the next bit, the train play. Thankfully, we pass over the play and go right into Cleese's brilliant, caffeinated assessment of the play. From their we go to another original bit, a performance of a Tchaikovsky violin sonata. As with Gumby theater, it's all about the build-up, as Palin describes the scene in hushed tones. Things go badly for the violinist, who manages to destroy violin after violin without getting beyond the first coda. Soon, the concert devolves into fist fights, human pyramids and an aerial bombardment. Once again, fun with sound effects. Ever heard a solo played whilst diving into a bucket of boiling fat? Get this album, and you will.
Next comes-- SPAM! It has a clarity that the TV version doesn't, and in my opinion, it's the better for it. Jones has to throw in the line "Bloody Vikings" so that we know who's singing. Finally, we actually hear the end of the song, with organ accompaniment, key change, a a final falsetto high note. I didn't know Vikings could sing that high. We follow with the transvestite judges, with some minor line changes. We don't get the visual effect, but Palin in particular gets us laughing with his effete delivery.
Another original bit, "Stake Your Claim" has host Cleese challenging peoples' ludicrous claims, only to have them back down way too easily. He has to force Chapman's pepperpot to honor her claim-- her original claim, not the one she made up in a panic-- and this links us to the Lifeboat Sketch. The flubbed lines are delivered in quick whispers, speeding us through the material. Idle gives us a high-pitched teen voice that's pretty funny. "Depends how we kill him, sir."
The inevitable complaint call follows, voiced by Palin instead of Cleese. Sorry, Michael, you don't read it as funny as John. The transvestite judges come back, followed by the Undertaker sketch. At the very end, Palin gives us a pitch for the next collection of folks songs, sung by-- The Spanish Inquisition! The Cardinals come on and do a quick frenzied Norwegian tune, bringing us full circle, and we're out!
It's clear from this effort that the lads are as comfortable in the sound booth as they are in front of the cameras-- maybe more so. They use their intelligence and insight to play with the aural medium skillfully and exhaustively. Unhappy with their first efforts in film and album, they came back strong with this hysterical record, with as much original material as adapted. Bottom line, my friends-- if you limit your exposure of Monty Python to the movies everyone's seen, you're missing out on some of their best stuff. But even if you are pretty familiar with their television show, and you haven't heard their albums-- you still got some laughing to do!
Next week; Season 3!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment