Latest academic study? Cleese’s silly walk!
AS far as academic studies go, there may be few sillier ones than this. In a case of life imitating art, researchers have analysed Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks sketch – a skit parodying nonsensical bureaucracy – to work out mathematically how silly the walks actually are. To mark the 50 years since John Cleese’s bowler-hatted civil servant high-stepped, crouched and lunged his way through the famous comedy routine, researchers have worked out the effort the 6ft 5in comedian put into his contortions. They found his walk was 6.7 times more variable – or sillier – than normal, based on the timing of his knee-flexing and how far his legs bent. But it is unlikely his performance will ever be repeated. A decade after the sketch was broadcast in 1970, he resurrected it on stage in Los Angeles but managed a walk only 4.7 times sillier than normal, the study found.
When the Pythons reformed for live shows in 2014, Cleese had a bad knee.
The comedian is now 80 and has had two hip replacements, making him too frail to recreate the classic clip.
Researchers at Dartmouth College in the US worked out the walk was so striking because Cleese bends his knees by more than 100 degrees – far more than the normal 60 degrees.
Erin Butler, the study’s lead author, said: ‘Human walking is consistent, with each of our steps very similar to both the previous step and next one.
‘The way we walk does not differ very much between people either. That is why it is so striking, the extremes of the walk John Cleese did.’
The study, in the Gait and Posture journal, involved measuring the angles of Cleese’s knees as they move – using dated and poor-quality footage.
But the team took it in their stride and also looked at Mr Pudey, played by Michael Palin, who applies to Cleese’s Mr Teabag for a Government grant to develop his own silly walk. His walk was 3.3 times more silly than normal, so the team said he deserved the grant.
The study concludes: ‘Extreme silliness seems more relevant than ever before in this Pythonesque world.’