To understand the current mindset of the legendary British comedy troupe Monty Python, one need only consider the semi-reluctant reunion that took place a few years ago at the Aspen Comedy Festival. As befits the group’s hilariously tasteless reputation, the ashes of deceased member Graham Chapman made a surprise cameo in an urn, only to be “accidentally” spilled by the five surviving members. The staged mishap served as a nice cue: what better way to cap a career than to symbolically scatter the remains of Monty Python across a stage?
That heralded appearance only heightened the knowledge that millions of fans still eat, sleep, and breathe Monty Python. It’s doubtful that the group will ever really get together again, what with former members either dead or long embarked on their own careers. But like a lactating albatross, the legacy of Monty Python yearns to be milked, if not for yucks then certainly for bucks.
Eric Idle sensed this opportunity and has taken advantage with a new stage show titled (appropriately enough) “Eric Idle Exploits Monty Python.” With a group of new comedians and musicians on hand to perform classic Python songs and routines, Idle ran the risk of running the ironic title of his revue into the ground. Though Python purists may think of Idle’s busy hands as the devil’s playthings–similar to Diana Ross touring with her proxy Supremes–he was nonetheless able to wring a solid 2 hours of laughs from his sold-out performance at the Chicago Theatre on Tuesday night.
Like the best of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Idle’s show sometimes teetered on the edge of surreal lunacy, only to be reeled in by the inspired intelligence of the skits. Favorite characters such as the Bruces (a singing trio of drunk Australian philosophers) and the bumbling Spanish Inquisition (“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”) all made raucous appearances, to the enjoyment of the audience, which knew every word.
All the usual Python ingredients–Spam, cross-dressing, village idiots, babbling old crones–were on hand, with skits such as Idle’s lasciviously insinuating stranger (“Say no more! Nudge, nudge, wink wink!”) and ditties such as “The Lumberjack Song,” “Every Sperm Is Sacred,” and “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” left faithfully intact, just the way fans like them.
Closing the Chicago Comedy Festival, Idle seemed particularly inspired, rightly proud of Python’s place in the comedy pantheon but not above a healthy bit of silliness. Or, as Idle himself said shortly before a rapturous standing ovation, “If you have enjoyed yourselves half as much as we have, then we have enjoyed ourselves twice as much as you.” Well put.
