Return of the Pythons
Michael Palin Interview
In the Rolling Stones they have Charlie Watts. In the Beatles it was Ringo. In Monty Python, it’s Michael Palin who keeps the peace and makes things happen. It is not an easy job. Without Palin, who has been effectively in the role since meeting fellow Python Terry Jones at Oxford in 1962 (see panel, right, for a Python timeline) this long-awaited reunion of comedy’s most influential group at London’s O2 would just not have happened. The Pythons are as famous for their flaming tempers as for their blazing intellects. John Cleese and Terry Gilliam once came to blows over whether to say ‘tinned’ or ‘canned’ peaches to an American audience (Gilliam won with ‘tinned’).
‘I am hamstrung by a conciliatory nature,’ says Palin. ‘At times I wish I was forceful, rude and opinionated.’ But he’s not. It’s why, of all the Pythons, he’s become the greatest national treasure. Palin – whether he’s writing, acting or travelling the world for his documentaries – makes us feel safe and reassured.
Less cosy are the recent utterances of Palin’s fellow Python Terry Gilliam, both in public and in a typically splenetic magazine interview. Gilliam called the Python reunion ‘depressing’, says that they were ‘too old’ and had all become ‘the Establishment we took the p*** out of ’, and concluded that he ‘hoped the shows get cancelled’.
Palin gives a beatific smile. ‘He’s marvellous isn’t he? I love all that. I mean, that’s just Terry. He’s one of those people. You ask him how he is and he’ll say, “Terrible.” Ask him how a movie is going and he’ll say, “Disastrous.”
‘It makes me laugh because he’s completely unreverential about the whole thing and that’s exactly what’s needed.’
As for Cleese saying the only reason he’s doing the shows is to pay off legal fees, Palin is equally unperturbed.
‘Well, there are all sorts of reasons. I’m actually looking forward to seeing whether we can do it. I remember the guys from South
Park and The Book Of Mormon telling me to do it, that it would be great and to value what we did.’ He pauses. ‘But there is truth in saying that it’s a lot of old guys wanting to make a lot of money.’
It’s worth pausing briefly to consider the financial fortunes of the individual Pythons, which vary markedly. Cleese’s three divorces have cost him more than threequarters of his original wealth (he is said to be worth £7m today) and he pays £57,000 a month to his third ex-wife, Alice Faye Eichelberger.
Palin, an established travel presenter, writer and actor, is worth £16m. Idle’s estimated fortune of £17m is under threat from a legal case brought by songwriter Neil Innes over unpaid royalities from the musical Spamalot. Jones comes in with a solid £11.2m as you might expect from a multi-faceted comedy writer, director and author. But it’s the roguish Gilliam who has the biggest fortune on paper – a whopping £33.5m, thanks largely to his film projects. It would be difficult to describe him as financially secure, however, as he is known to plough millions of his own money into his projects.
It was ultimately Palin who brought the group back together, and his own motivation was simple – he wanted to see if they could still recreate the Python magic. ‘People think there are all these rows and rifts, and we’ve had our moments. But we don’t really all hate each other. I suppose I am the one everybody talks to because I’m not the one for confrontations. But essentially, there’s an excitement about seeing whether we can still do it, whether it works, whether we work, and getting in a room together again was good fun.
‘I don’t quite know what the travel arrangements will be.
‘In the US we are treated like comedy deities. It’s embarrassing’
Probably not separate limos... whatever works.’
The five remaining stars (Graham Chapman died in 1989) have written the show’s script, which Palin says consists largely of some of the best-loved sketches, plus extracts from the films, The Holy Grail and
The Life Of Brian. ‘There is a script,’ he says. ‘It’s been around for a few months and we’ve all seen it and worked on it. It will be the classics from the Dead Parrot to Upper-Class Twits. And it will be the first time we’ve done the Spanish Inquisition on stage – that’s what people want to see. I think they’d be horrified if we came up with new stuff.
‘There will be some up-to-date references to news events – possi- bly to the whole celebrity culture – but that could change from night to night, depending on the reaction, depending on the news, depending on us. We can still sing, so there will be the songs. John won’t be doing the silly walks because he’s had his knee operations, and those leg kicks were pretty acrobatic.’
As for the original props, he says: ‘Most of the overalls and the hats have been eaten by moths so they don’t actually exist. I do have my old spangled jacket from the Blackmail sketch, but sadly it doesn’t fit any more.’
The only time he sounds remotely horrified is when asked if any other comedians have been asked for their input on material. ‘Absolutely not. It’s just us.
The five of us. There was a worry that without Graham we’d be a table with just five legs instead of six and it may cause a wobble, but Graham’s presence is going to be seen and felt in the show with images and pictures. That feels right. We wouldn’t get anyone else involved because Python was always what happened when we got together.
‘John is obviously the biggest star, but in writing and performance all that goes out of the window.’
Palin is adamant that the O2 shows will be the beginning and end of the reunion. ‘Absolutely, that’s it,’ he says. ‘There has been huge pressure
‘We don’t want to flog it to death. This will be the very end’
from America and places like Australia and Germany, where Python was massive. But no, this is it. There will be a documentary and a live cinema screening but we don’t want to flog it to death. This will be the very end.’
For Palin, the myth of Python has always been something of a problem rather than a pleas- ure. ‘In America we are treated like comedy deities,’ he says. ‘Which I’ve always found terribly embarrassing. All you want to say is, “We weren’t that funny.” I’ve never liked being treated like a god.’
The Pythons were, however, when rock ’n’ roll met comedy. Palin nods. ‘There were groupies. Mainly for John. Busloads of them. I never encountered a groupie myself.’ Palin is married to Helen Gibbins, whom he met when he was 16 and is the mother of his three children.
‘I think we just tapped into something. Rock stars liked to come and see us, and Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin invested in The Holy Grail, and then George Harrison enabled us to make The Life Of Brian, so there was always that connection. I think that’s where it ended. Apart from being a peacemaker like Charlie Watts, I’m not terribly rock ’n’ roll.’
But he does like a bit of danger. He admits there is every chance the Python reunion may blow up in their faces. ‘It’s absolutely terrifying,’ he says. ‘It could go horribly wrong but it could be amazing. And that’s what makes me want to do it. It’s a change from sitting at home with an Ovaltine.’
‘Monty Python Live (mostly)’ is at the O2 Arena, London, July 1-5, 15-16 & 18-20, 2014. For tickets, visit montypythonlive.com