Comedic genius
Terry Jones, 1942-2020
ABOUT a decade ago, John Cleese (the tall one) said this of Terry Jones’ temper: It seems that Terry Jones didn’t realize he was Welsh, and therefore part of a subjugated people, and instead of giving directions, Mr. Jones might be more suited to taking orders.
Oooooh-weeeee.
Imagine the ribbing that took place among the Pythons when they were alone. Even after Graham Chapman died in 1989, they would say, “One down, five to go.” The troupe held a press conference a few years after their
King Arthur had died, to promote some new project, but brought along Graham Chapman’s ashes for comradery—only to spill the “ashes” on the lecturn. Then the brooms and dustpans came out, somebody produced a vacuum, and the press was left in stitches.
Nothing—and we mean nothing—was out of bounds for these guys. Thankfully. For they are responsible for some of the best comedic moments in English-speaking history.
TERRY JONES was the director among the group, and also shared writing and acting duties. He sat next to Terry Gilliam (the American one) in the director’s chair for Holy Grail, but the group decided two chiefs was confusing. So after that, they gave the directing duties to Terry Jones alone.
He might have pieced together the best comedy known to man: The Life of Brian. (ABC claims it’s the second-best comedy of all time, after Airplane!) The Pythons got into a lot of trouble for The Life of Brian. There were those who protested even its opening in theaters. And those among the clergy begged their charges not to watch the flick. Which, especially for teenaged boys, was like pouring sugar on the ground to keep ants away.
Terry Jones was quick to tell anybody that the movie wasn’t blasphemy. It was heresy. And there’s a big difference.
Looking back from this distance, it seems almost as silly as one of their sketches to think that Monty Python wouldn’t make it in America. But in the early 1970s, the group had few fans in the colonies. At least among producers. The group would screen some Flying Circus bits before an American TV bigwig, only to be told no, there was no place for such nonsense on American television.
It reminds us that there were music producers who had turned down The Beatles, too. And like the musical group, the Pythons stormed America in yet another British invasion. They were actually called The Beatles of comedy groups.
Once the horse, or the large wooden badger, was given its head, the group exploded. Suddenly, American school kids—actually only the boys—were copying the sketches and the accents and the silliness: Spam, spam, spam, eggs, baked beans and spam!
Terry Jones was responsible for making Brian’s mother come to life. He was responsible for Sir Bedevere and Mr. Creosote. He was the straight man in the Wink-Wink Know-What-I-Mean sketch with Eric Idle (the musical one). He and his writing mate, fellow Python Michael Palin (the knighted one), were responsible for untold millions of laughs. Probably billions.
Twitter followers called it sad, Terry Jones’ passing this week. It was more than sad. It was heartbreaking that such a genius would die of a rare form of dementia. A few years ago, Sir Michael Palin let it slip that his friend couldn’t speak any longer.
As with many geniuses, Terry Jones didn’t have just one speciality.
Terence Graham Parry Jones, of the Colwyn Bay Joneses, was the author of books as well. He wrote of Chaucer. He wrote of the War on Terror. He wrote several children’s books. He attended Oxford where he met Sir Michael in the Oxford Revue. He wrote poems. He produced historical documentaries. He wrote columns for newspapers! That does it: He was a genius.
And somehow he was able to herd a handful of crazy friends along this path for which they have grown famous. And the words he wrote, the scenes he directed, the parts he played, are part of the English-speaking lexicon. And will be for at least a generation. Especially when some of us are ordering in a restaurant and want to embarrass the lady and kids at the table.
Spam, egg, spam, spam, baked beans and spam. Spam, sausage, spam, bacon, spam, tomato and spam. Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam and spam. And a Lobster Thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce garnished with truffle pate, brandy and a fried egg and spam—