Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [133]
A half-hour call from John Goldstone. He has had a letter back from the censor. The film cannot be given an ‘A’ (over-fives, accompanied), unless we cut down two gory moments, and lose one ‘shit’, the words ‘oral sex’, the entire phrase ‘We make castanets of your testicles’ and some of King Arthur’s repeated ‘Jesus Christs’.
I was prepared to trade the ‘shit’ for the ‘oral sex’, otherwise we’ll settle for an AA (over-fourteens). It’s all too silly.
A call from Jill. She has told Jimmy Gilbert at the BBC of our decision to drop the autumn series after all. But Jill tells me that JG is interested in a Michael Palin show to fill the slots he’d reserved. I couldn’t quite believe it, but, coming a week after Stephen Frears’ Three Men in a Boat offer, it makes me feel excited and confident and quite unsure of the future. Too much is happening.
Friday, February 28th
Up to G Chapman’s for record writing. A gorgeous morning in Highgate. We listen (TG, TJ, Graham, Douglas and myself) to the tapes of the film. And surprisingly involving it is too.
Plenty of ideas come out for presentation, etc, but the work fizzles to a halt at lunchtime when TG has to go off and strip wallpaper in his new house and Graham and Douglas had obviously pre-arranged a meeting in the pub.
TJ and I both sensed another day was falling apart, but the marvellously warm, almost balmy air of Highgate in this unbelievable February, helped to keep us from becoming depressed. Instead we went to the San Carlo restaurant and, over whitebait, liver and a couple of glasses of wine, we discussed some ideas for future writing projects.
I feel that TJ and I have spent over a year as caretaker to Python, and from today on, I say, over my big cigar1 and Calvados, Terry and I are going to do our own thing again.
Or do I really mean my own thing? I must say the Stephen Frears and Jimmy Gilbert offers have boosted my confidence and my determination. But I think we both felt better as a result of lunch. TJ is going up to North Yorkshire today for a weekend break with Al, and Helen and I are going to Abbotsley.
The last few hours of the week were typical of this whole mad, frenetic week. Phone calls on every subject under the sun, including an enquiry via Jill for me to do a short film next week to publicise Mike Oldfield’s new single, ‘Don Alfonso’. It’s all very urgent, etc, etc. Virgin Records sent me a copy of the disc by taxi and, around six o’clock, one Richard Branson rang. I hadn’t heard the record, but said I was too busy.
When I did hear it I realised I had made the right decision.
Saturday, March 1st, Abbotsley
Helen’s sister Mary, who has exams this coming week, is using my work-room while we’re away, and she rings after lunch, while I am out trundling Rachel round the quiet, muddy roads of Abbotsley village, with my mind on nothing in particular, to say that a BBC Radio 4 reporter has been pestering her to find out details of the ‘Python break-up’.
Mary had given nothing away. She said she knew none of the Pythons’ whereabouts or phone numbers. The reporter, according to Mary, said ‘Oh, surely there’s a phone book of his beside the phone.’
However, G Chapman had been tracked down and, at 5.30, as I cleaned my car in the drive at Church Farm, out of the radio came the Python theme music, which they then ran down. ‘Yes, after five years, Monty Python is no more,’ etc, etc. Graham gave an excellently controlled, sensible, low-key interview, which didn’t deny the story.
Monday, March 3rd
This morning at GC’s, where we are assembled to finish writing the record of the film soundtrack, TJ was very gloomy. He felt that the ‘break-up’ story was not going to do us any good, and it was his fault that it ever got out in the first place. It turns out that the story first appeared in Saturday’s Sun, written by Chris Greenwood