Silly and salacious are not mutually exclusive with scholarly and sophisticated. Monty Python proved and repeatedly reaffirmed that fact in its heyday.
The revolutionary British comedy sextet — who combined for multiple Cambridge and Oxford degrees — wasted no creativity with William Shakespeare, along with other timeless key components of the national culture.
Sometimes the Pythons took classic characters and put them in an obligatory satirical setting. Case in point: Episode 43 of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, in which Hamlet seeks psychiatric care.
On other occasions, they incorporated characters who were convenient for contemporary commentary. Look no further than Tory activists swiftly censoring Othello and Desdemona in their “war against pornography.”
At times it is almost as though the Pythons were channeling the curiosities, theories and even good-natured cynicisms on Shakespeare, his characters and his lasting appeal that they were hesitant to bring up in school. But they way they brought them out on the BBC in the late 1960s and early ’70s was better late than never. In fact, this was the best way, as the humor touched a national audience and then went global.
As this week — and, according to many scholars, this day — marks the anniversary of Bill the Bard’s birth and death, here are the five best ways another well-aging British institution honored Shakespeare’s legacy.
5. Tudor Job Agency
It never hurts a non-household name to remember how much they have in common with legends in a given field. It also doesn’t hurt to poke a little fun at these habitual reminders.
Episode 36 of Monty Python’s Flying Circus took that opportunity in its opening sketch. In passing, the clerk (Terry Jones) tells his customer (Graham Chapman), “Shakespeare started off from here as a temp.”
It is one of many names from England’s Tudor period (1485-1603) meant to accentuate this supposed business’ impressive history. But as it happens, the clerk is merely taking precautions to ensure the wrong people never discover he is actually retailing erotic literature.
Reaching back three-plus centuries for cover is naturally absurd. With that said, he might as well evoke the top Tudor-era inkslinger’s name while he is at it.
4. Not bad at all
As part of their journey to Germany in 1972, the Pythons epitomized themselves in their “coverage” of an unusual production. The highlight of the various Merchant of Venice adaptations at hand was courtesy of the “Bad Ischl Dairy Herd.”
Spoken entirely in the host country’s tongue, this sketch sees Eric Idle reviewing the performance from a theatre balcony. In a radiant endorsement, he favorably contrasts the cattle cast’s take with that of a previous performance by chickens.
With the help of English subtitles, Idle’s eloquence comes through for audiences in multiple nations. His character’s stuffy peers may scoff at or even decry the silliness of the production. But apparently, he is so taken in by Shakespeare’s greatness that he will give any aspiring Shakespearean actors a chance. He will not discriminate on the basis of species.
3. Like you and me
For at least two shots, the bard himself appears onscreen. Portrayed by Idle, Shakespeare shows up via satellite when he hears his name referenced by a short-fused Ludwig van Beethoven.
The sketch in question sees Beethoven (John Cleese) at a tipping point of work-related stress. His wife and bird are no help, as they constantly distract him in what is essentially his home office. When left alone, he snorts, “Shakespeare never had this trouble.”
At that point, we see William caught up in the mundane task of dishwashing. But rather than engage in a who-has-it-worse quarrel, he turns around and helps Beethoven perfect his key. In return, the composer suggests “Incidentally, why not call him Hamlet?”
And that, we learn, is why Shakespeare dropped his lawsuit against Michelangelo (Jones) for calling his magnum opus David. But just like Shakespeare and Beethoven, we see that the star sculptor has his own home-and-work juggle struggles.
2. Royal Hospital for Overacting
One sketch set in a World War I trench musters a smooth transition to this bit. Inside the institution, the chief of medicine (Chapman) shows his patients suffering from too much of a good thing.
Yes, that notion can apply to anything. Even literature whose excellence transcends centuries and masterful acting thereof. That is the implicit message when we see entire wards dedicated to title performers from King Richard III and Hamlet, respectively.
The rehabbing Richard actors vary in their stages of recovery. Some continue to deliver the character’s signature line with maximum frequency and drama. At the other end of the scale, they wait for a cue, although the therapy may have worked too well when they speak softly and flatly.
Regardless, as the doctor subsequently shows, the patients in the Richard ward have nothing on their Hamlet counterparts.
1. Shakespeare anagrams
“Be ot or bot ne ot, tath is the nestquie.”
It almost sounds like a legitimate foreign phrase, or at least some clever faux Latin gibberish.
But no, it’s just Hamrag Yatlerot’s (Idle) anagrammed translation of one of Hamlet’s most-quoted lines. As the interviewer (Michael Palin) establishes from the top, anagrams comprise his guest’s first language. And given the bottomless barrel of translations and adaptations of Shakespeare plays, why shouldn’t Yatlerot get a shot?
The altered titles Yatlerot rattles off are, most naturally, scripted with silliness in mind. Even so, because the Pythons could not mask their intelligence if they tried, a few titles somehow sound sophisticated. Or, if nothing else, they sound like conceivable names for original works.
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