It's an adjustment seeing classic bits of television comedy being repurposed for the cinema. The first-ever film by TV's Monty Python troupe offers an enjoyable, if rather restrained, showcase of reshot series excerpts.
What "And Now For Something Completely Different" lacks in originality, it makes up for in zaniness and wit. Meet a group of elderly ladies who terrorize city streets: "We like pulling the heads off sheep...and tea cakes."
Thrill to a fight to the death for the title "Upper-Class Twit of the Year:" "He doesn't know when he's beaten...He doesn't know when he's winning, either. He has no sort of sensory apparatus known to man."
Learn why British film directors don't like being called "Eddie Baby," "Angel Drawers," or "Frank," even if President Nixon has a hedgehog by that name.
It's also a chance to see the stars of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" with longer hair and shaggier sideburns, except for Terry Gilliam who makes just a couple of token appearances while sticking to animation. John Cleese steals much of the show with his delicious overacting, yet Eric Idle makes the strongest impression as everything from a randy marriage counselor to one of Hell's Grannies. Meanwhile, Terry Jones squints, Michael Palin smirks, and Graham Chapman disapproves of everything. None are as sensational as they would become, but all make impressions.
For all that it has going for it, "And Now" connects only about half the time. Gilliam's animation seems slower and more ponderous here than it did on television, and the one-joke nature of his cartoons gets exposed in a way they didn't as television interstitials. A kind of pokiness cuts into the live-action material as well, like bits involving mice that squeal on key when hit with a hammer and men with tape recorders up their noses. Each of these may be only a minute or so, but they feel much longer.
Several of Python's best-loved sketches don't appear here, like the Ministry of Silly Walks, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Crunchy Frog. The best-known sketch that does appear, the Dead Parrot, is actually a little dead itself for some reason. Director Ian MacNaughton was Python's usual director for television, and if anything shoots things in an even flatter manner here than he did for the BBC. Perhaps it's because television was Python's medium, for the way it offered a kind of subversive platform for their entertainments.
Other sketches do shine. The Funniest Joke in the World is a great laugh unless you're German, in which case view with caution. Even better is the Milkman sketch, which demonstrates the pitfall of falling for the wrong woman.
Overall, "And Now" makes for a fine Python primer, a starter course as another reviewer suggests. It's not a landmark film, or even that major a milestone by Python standards, but it delivers some laughs along with a sense of what these guys were about.
What "And Now For Something Completely Different" lacks in originality, it makes up for in zaniness and wit. Meet a group of elderly ladies who terrorize city streets: "We like pulling the heads off sheep...and tea cakes."
Thrill to a fight to the death for the title "Upper-Class Twit of the Year:" "He doesn't know when he's beaten...He doesn't know when he's winning, either. He has no sort of sensory apparatus known to man."
Learn why British film directors don't like being called "Eddie Baby," "Angel Drawers," or "Frank," even if President Nixon has a hedgehog by that name.
It's also a chance to see the stars of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" with longer hair and shaggier sideburns, except for Terry Gilliam who makes just a couple of token appearances while sticking to animation. John Cleese steals much of the show with his delicious overacting, yet Eric Idle makes the strongest impression as everything from a randy marriage counselor to one of Hell's Grannies. Meanwhile, Terry Jones squints, Michael Palin smirks, and Graham Chapman disapproves of everything. None are as sensational as they would become, but all make impressions.
For all that it has going for it, "And Now" connects only about half the time. Gilliam's animation seems slower and more ponderous here than it did on television, and the one-joke nature of his cartoons gets exposed in a way they didn't as television interstitials. A kind of pokiness cuts into the live-action material as well, like bits involving mice that squeal on key when hit with a hammer and men with tape recorders up their noses. Each of these may be only a minute or so, but they feel much longer.
Several of Python's best-loved sketches don't appear here, like the Ministry of Silly Walks, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Crunchy Frog. The best-known sketch that does appear, the Dead Parrot, is actually a little dead itself for some reason. Director Ian MacNaughton was Python's usual director for television, and if anything shoots things in an even flatter manner here than he did for the BBC. Perhaps it's because television was Python's medium, for the way it offered a kind of subversive platform for their entertainments.
Other sketches do shine. The Funniest Joke in the World is a great laugh unless you're German, in which case view with caution. Even better is the Milkman sketch, which demonstrates the pitfall of falling for the wrong woman.
Overall, "And Now" makes for a fine Python primer, a starter course as another reviewer suggests. It's not a landmark film, or even that major a milestone by Python standards, but it delivers some laughs along with a sense of what these guys were about.