• Home
• Latest Reviews
  • Art
  • Circus
  • Dance
  • Features
  • Festivals
  • Film
  • Music
  • Musicals
  • Opera
  • Theatre
• Archive
  • Art
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Circus
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Dance
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Features
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 08
  • Festivals
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Film
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Music
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Musicals
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
    • Untitled Item
  • Opera
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
  • Theatre
    • 2013
    • 2012
    • 2011
    • 2010
    • 09
    • 08
• Reviewers
• Press
• Previews
• Creative Projects
• Links

When my husband John was a boy, he, (or according to him, his forehead) appeared in the ‘Tomkinson’s School-days’ episode of Ripping Yarns, (1976)  with Terry Jones and Michael Palin, among a gang of boys they were meant to be ‘teaching’. Shortly after, he got kicked out of stage school for smoking in the toilet, bringing his acting career to an end. Ah, the good old days!

That’s exactly what Misters Jones and Palin talked about in conversation, in a fairly crowded (‘not full’ as Palin noted from the stage) Queen Elizabeth Hall ‘the good old days,’ with host Mariella Frostrup, who started off by reminding them that they ‘didn’t need her’, as she could just ‘let them talk.’ Which isn’t really surprising as Jones and Palin are old mates, going back to their days at Oxford, circa 1963, when Palin thought Jones was ‘cool’ because he was in the year above him, and had also designed magazine covers…But how did they get into comedy and Monty Python in particular, I hear you ask.  

To Frostrup’s question of whether there was any ‘sense of comedy and drama’ in his childhood in Sheffield, Palin replied that his father had a ‘basic sense of humour’ and ‘liked practical jokes’, but his mother was ‘funny.’  His parents had wisely, ‘used humour as an argumentative tool.’ To the statement that his dad had spent ‘a third of his earnings’ on his son Michael’s education, Palin responded, ‘The period our parents went through was unbelievably awful…with two World Wars, The Depression’…He hoped I’d achieve, but he didn’t want me to act.’ In the end, the real question was, ‘could I do something and make money? I knew I didn’t want to do what he wanted, i.e. bank manager! But, ‘script-writing and that kind of thing would have been alien to his way of life and the people of Sheffield.’

Admittedly, known for the scarf-wearing women he’s played, mainly on Python, Jones said his young years were spent in a ‘world of women’, meaning his doting mother and grand-mother, during WWII when his father was away, and he never even met him until 1946 when a ‘strange man with a bristly moustache kissed him in the train station’. A fact from which Palin latched onto, gleefully using a mimed ‘man with the moustache’ phrase as an excuse for any and all abnormalities in Jones’ life since, silently gesturing to his own upper lip intermittently as Jones spoke thereafter, a knowing grin on his face, before pointing a finger at his friend, especially after Jones laughingly admitted he’s had a ‘phobia about moustaches ever since.’ But Jones didn’t blame his father for his strictness, which suddenly became a factor in his formerly carefree life when he was five years old, as he’d had a strict Edwardian upbringing. When asked if his father had a dangerous time of it during WWII, Jones laughed, saying his father had ‘worked for the Post Office in India,’ which also drew a chuckle or two from Palin and the audience.

In answer to the question of when they first met, Palin talked of their Oxford days, at which time, Jones joined in, and the two proceeded to go off on an amusing side trip of their own, at which point Frostrup, amused like the rest of us at their camaraderie and ability to ad lib, interrupted their Pythonesque foray, at one point interjecting, ‘Could you get your story straight?’

Jones, it eventually turned out, had ventured onto the stage first, appearing in amateur dramatics, including a production at Oxford, before the pair even thought of doing comedy. Though, the year after they met, they did a revue together in Edinburgh, with two or three other people, featuring a ‘po-faced professor explaining practical jokes’ (shades of Ripping Yarns) while the others ‘used custard pies, etc.’ Palin claimed by way of explanation that he and Jones had ‘detected the original senses of humour in each other.’ And to Frostrup’s question of whether everyone thought they were ‘weird’ back then, Palin glibly replied, ‘No one ever thought I was weird…That’s the problem!’ getting a big laugh from the crowd. When Jones attempted to disagree with that statement, Palin headed him off with a warning look, saying, ‘Now Terry…’ When he’d regained his composure, Palin continued, adding the ‘everyone was doing That Was the Week That Was type humour…We weren’t into that, ‘claiming he and Jones were into more ‘general humour.’

Dubbing their second Edinburgh show, ‘proto-punk’ Jones took up where Palin had left off, recalling an ‘extra show’ they’d done there utilizing ‘scripts that didn’t work’. It was during that time that they met some would be funny men from Cambridge, and first worked with Eric Idle. When asked if he’d ‘learned anything’ during that period, Jones quipped, ‘I noticed that Eric had very blue eyes,’ drawing another bout of hilarious ‘moustache’ gesturing from Palin. At one point, Jones stated, rather incredulously that he had ‘suddenly become comedy script editor for the BBC,’ during which time they did a ‘lot of police jokes,’ i.e. the ‘Policemen’s Walking Race’, the memory of which drew chuckles from the audience and Palin as well.  A year after David Frost had come to their Edinburgh revue in 1964, he invited Jones, Palin and Eric Idle to contribute to his Frost Report…John Cleese and Graham Chapman were also there’, as was David Jason. The memory of the show being during dinner time, drew Palin into an imitation of Italian waiters, whom he claimed were their ‘biggest fans.’ It was during their time on Do Not Adjust Your Set that ‘Terry Gilliam thrust himself on them…but Eric defended him, and Terry did two animations for the second series.’ When asked what Gilliam was like back then, Jones smiled in recollection, claiming ‘Terry G’ as they’d termed him, ‘had a girlfriend and a long coat, which we envied.’ During the making of a series called, The Natural (or was that ‘Nut’?) History of Britain’, during the ‘last of the 1948 show, John said, I like what you do, why don’t we all work together?’ Though the ‘suits of the BBC’ weren’t initially convinced, they eventually acquiesced saying, ‘well, we can only give you thirteen shows.’  Jones and Palin laughingly added, ‘They wanted John, he’s tall and distinctive and, funny’…Thus began a television stint in the ‘graveyard shift’, (11pm) at which time, ‘Terry G. had a stream of consciousness idea.’

When asked about influences, Jones cited Spike Milligan, with Palin nodding his agreement, claiming he’d ‘torn the textbook up’, doing ‘sketches with no endings, etc., so they decided to use Terry G.’s animations to get out of sketches.’ However, ‘the Cambridge Contingent (Cleese and Chapman) were not so keen,’ as they favoured humour that was ‘more formal and traditional, with stretched out sketches, so Jones and Palin filled in with silly ideas.’ I’d never thought of Python in that way, but as they confirmed, there were really, ‘two writing teams: Terry and Mike and Graham and John.’

‘How did it work? Who would play who?’ Frostrup wanted to know, to which Jones provided the answer. ‘Usually it was pretty obvious…though with Life of Brian, Cleese wanted to play it, but we thought it was wrong, so we had to persuade John to play other parts.’ This launched Jones and Palin into another amusing aside in which they re-enacted their conversations with Cleese at the time, a comic mixture of flattery, i.e. ‘you can play anything,’ and more flattery, ‘who else could do all these roles?’ generating much we’ve all been there laughter of recognition.

‘You had the market on screeching women,’ Frostrup quipped to Jones, a smile crossing her face. It was a statement he didn’t deny: ‘Some of the middle-aged women I played were a lot like my mom,’ he said a bit sheepishly, going into a very well received demonstration, which set Palin off on a momentary jaunt of his own. When asked about the working relationship between him and Cleese, Palin said, ‘I was the shopkeeper to John’s customer – he did irritated very well’. After the chuckles had died down, he added, ‘The great joy of Python was playing so many different parts.’...a statement Jones agreed with, both smiling at the memory…Palin’s favourite sketch was ‘The Fish Slapping Dance!’ And by way of explaining some of the funnier details of that, Jones interjected, ‘You didn’t realize the tide was out, his broad grin suggesting the worst. ‘The canal was full when we rehearsed…Palin confirmed, ‘They said right, action…I nearly drown.’ Jones personal best was ‘Every Sperm Is Sacred’, the very name of which drew laughs.

Speaking of ‘the rivalry between Cambridge and Oxford’, Palin claimed ‘the taller ones were more easily distracted…they felt Python was pretty standard and looked for what might come after…Whereas, the short ones, he and Jones and Eric Idle’…John left and Graham died,’ as Jones quipped,’ the easy way out.’ Following those departures, they did ‘six shows without John, who’d gone to Faulty Towers, but it wasn’t the same.’

Asking them about The Holy Grail, which Jones cited as a ‘good narrative for a ninety minute film’ got Frostrup more than she bargained for, as Palin joked that ‘King Arthur and his knights eventually found the grail in Harrods.’ Jones’ film-making career was inspired by the fact that he ‘could see people doing things wrong’, though he admitted that he’d ‘never thought of being a film director.’ At which point, Palin added that although their director, Ian Mc Naughton (crusty Scotsman impersonation – oh aye) was a ‘lovely man, even Terry (J.) planted a hatchet in the back of his head.’ But what about Spamalot?’  Frostrup asked, a question Jones answered. ‘Saw it first in London…then in Vegas…Tim Curry played it for laughs, (in London) but in the ’97 Vegas version, which was the same length as the film, a TV soap opera actor played it straight and it was better.’ Chapman had also played it that way.

Frostrup wanted to know about the controversy surrounding The Life of Brian, to which Palin replied, ‘Those were Mary Whitehouse times, but they felt if it was comedy, they could get away with it.’ Jones jumped in adding, ‘it was banned in Swansea, so people got a coach to Cardiff to see it…Ireland banned The Meaning of Life and Personal Service. They only ever banned four films, and I’ve got three of them…’Apparently Brian was ‘also banned in Norway,’ which Sweden and Jones both found funny. But, by the time they’d made The Meaning of Life, they felt ‘the material was not flowing’ as it once did, and ‘Terry Gillian had gone off to make other films…’

Which, prompted Frostrup’s comment to Palin that he’d had ‘great success as an actor in the ‘80’s,’ and a question – ‘Did he imagine himself as a serious actor?’ His response was immediate: ‘I did The Missionary, which I was proud of…and in Ripping Yarns I played the central character… I couldn’t do the character acting I wanted to…’ At which point Frostrup brought up Palin’s success in A Fish Called Wanda, seemingly, contradicting herself, stating, ‘You had a pretty rough ride in America.’ Palin clarified: ‘Wind in the Willows…Disney never really got it…didn’t want to release it…Adding, ‘Wind in the Willows was on in Times Square in New York in a little porno cinema…I rushed out to get a camera and came back, and it was over.’

‘What about all those travel shows on telly?’ Frostrup asked. ‘1988 – London to Scotland train trip was the first one,’ Palin answered. ‘We (he and Jones) made our first trip to the States when we were in our thirties’. Going back to the television trips, Palin stated, ‘It’s a good way to see the world, with a little team of people you like.’ In terms of glitches, there was the time they had planned to film in a certain Scottish Castle, and were already nearby when they got ‘a letter forbidding its’ use’…requiring some fast maneuvering.

In terms of the long term friendship between he and Jones, Palin said ‘they agree on a lot of things, i.e. squash is a good way to pass the time until they go to the pub.’ Though Jones claimed with a smile that ‘they miss out on the squash and go to the pub now…’

Answering the query of whether they’re ‘both doing what they really want to now,’ Palin replied, ‘Terry’s a scholar and I’m quite happy going round the world…he’s written some fantastic children’s stories, (in which) all creatures want to be themselves.’ This prompted Jones to quip, ‘all Pythons called Terry do operas now.’ And responding to Frostrup’s question about his upcoming trip to Brazil, Palin joked. ‘Yes, I’ll just have to drink a lot and go to lots of carnivals – boring!’

Coming back to their friendship, Palin said, ‘this is a rare out of pub experience’ – Highgate’s ‘The Prince of Wales’ pub that is, where Jones was allegedly, ‘spotted, looking a bit scholarly,’ before being asked to participate in the history shows he’s since become known for on telly.

‘Do you still write together?’ Frostrup asked. ‘No not really,’ Palin answered. As evidenced, both he and Jones are busily doing their own things.

Questions from the audience started off with, ‘Is Maggie Smith scary?’ ‘Scary?’ Palin echoed, ‘It’s a bit like working with me in a way, whatever’s pitched is pitched back.’

‘Do you think the younger generation likes Python?’ someone else asked, to which Jones replied, ‘In the States, people say their kids love it…that they recite lines from The Holy Grail, etc.’

‘Who makes you laugh’ was the next, to which Palin quickly answered, ‘Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin, with Jones adding, ‘I don’t have a TV’, at which Palin quipped, ‘he’s trying to avoid the license.’

‘Ever get embarrassed in Python?’ a woman wanted to know, to which Palin answered in the affirmative. ‘When we were asked to take our trousers down in the City, when it was busy…’

To the question ‘Who would you have in Meltdown? Jones’ answer was ‘Ray Davies (who’d introduced them to thunderous applause) and Bruce Springstein - as a cantor!’ ‘Terry Jones’ was Palin’s response.

Coming full circle, one man said, ‘Some of your best work was in Ripping Yarns…Why don’t you do some more Boy’s Own?’ to which Palin replied, ‘Once Python broke up, the BBC got all conservative…’