Spamalot is hilarious.
Yes, it's an unapologetic rip-off of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but even if you saw that film, I think you'll enjoy this live translation. There's just something about the fearsome Knights of Ni or the shrewdly built Trojan Bunny that stays funny no matter how many times you've seen them. And there are certain novel elements — a parody of Phantom, a takeoff on Whitney Houston and a search for a Jewish presence in medieval England (because you "must have Jews if you want to succeed on Broadway") — that make this stage play more than a mere copy. Add terrific acting in every part and a tuneful score, and you've got a delightful evening of utterly professional silliness. I loved every moment and would have enjoyed an hour more.
The story, in case you don't already know it, concerns life in England, circa 932 A.D. But Spamalot begins with a joyous tribute to Finland — because someone on the production team misunderstood the Narrator. Once this wrinkle is ironed out, the musical really gets going. England, it seems, is in need of political unity, and a certain King Arthur is the man for the job. He searches for knights to sit at his Round Table — which eventually shows up as a TV-inflected Wheel of Fortune. No sooner has Arthur collected these knights than God — represented by a huge foot (all you can see of Him) — commands the men in armor to find the Holy Grail.
On the way, Arthur and his knights face a castleful of taunting Frenchmen (whose Frenchness is confirmed by dancing can-can girls, a Marcel Marceau impersonator, some French Foreign Legion members and even a French poodle) and after that the Knights of Ni, who can only be bought off with shrubbery. There's a Black Knight who won't stop trying, even after all his limbs are hacked off, to put up a manly fight, and a Lady of the Lake who realizes halfway through the musical that the plot has left her behind (and sings "The Diva's Lament").
Eventually, King Arthur destroys his trusty vassal's self-esteem with a song about loneliness, and then the knights face off against a small killer rabbit with the ability to bite off human heads. An important clue to the Grail's whereabouts is discovered and deciphered, and at the end we all join in on that saccharine anthem, "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life." If life were more like this musical, that wouldn't be at all difficult.
The actors are top-notch. Michael Siberry as King Arthur is ultra-sincere and not very intelligent; Pia Glenn as the Lady of the Lake is a song-belting star who deserves a musical all her own; and the knights of the round table — played by Robert Petkoff, Patrick Heusinger, Anthony Holds and Christopher Gurr — couldn't be more well-meaning and ridiculous.
Many of the actors play multiple roles: Heusinger is terrific as The French Taunter and a Knight of Ni; Holds is very funny as the Black Knight; and Christopher Sutton turns in fine work as the Historian and Not Dead Fred.
Mike Nichols' direction is surprisingly respectful of the film and Tim Hatley's sets and costumes are richly colorful and pleasingly various. And don't forget the ingenious Trojan Bunny: a shrewd idea with just one drawback, which I'll leave you to discover. The text, by Eric Idle, is ruthlessly cribbed from the original screenplay by him and five colleagues. The music, by Idle and John Du Prez, is a joy.
Anyway, if you have a chance, bring the spouse and the kids to Spamalot. It's a real comic gem, bright and cheerful and nearly flawless. It's not often that I see a Broadway touring show that so lives up to its publicity.
Monty Python fans won't want to miss it. Nor should anyone in search of a laugh and a good time.
A Slow Read. About halfway through Neil Simon's Chapter Two, I found myself getting impatient. Here's why: The play is about George Schneider, a man whose wife has recently died and who finds himself falling in love with an actress named Jennie Malone. But whereas many contemporary playwrights might show this process over two scenes lasting, oh, 20 minutes in all, author Simon spreads it out over an entire first act with nary a subplot. Seldom has so little taken so long. In spite of its subject, this play has almost nothing to say about death, love, grief or guilt that wasn't obvious to everyone before the play began.
The actor who plays George, Christopher Cass, is the sort of handsome, talented fellow whom you might find on TV, and Julie Rowe as Jennie Malone is, as always, splendid. But the actor who plays George's younger brother Leo, Brian Webb Russell, has the look and delivery of an old-time Catskills comedian — think Henny Youngman. He's consistent as such, but makes the play seem unimportant.
The jokes, the jokes: When every other line is manifestly meant to get a laugh, the "reality" of the play just plummets. And yet …
The production has some strengths. Wendy Bagger is excellent as Jennie's friend Faye Medwick, director David Grapes II moves his actors around the stage skillfully, Frank Chavez's living room set is attractive and Saidah Ben Judah's costumes couldn't be better.
Still, it's not enough.
Most network sitcoms are more illuminating.
And funnier.
This article appears in Jan 31 – Feb 6, 2007.