Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [142]
I rang Connie after supper. She sounded quite emotional and said John was very upset, though mainly it seemed with the Express reporter who had rung and put words into his mouth, rather than with my alleged ‘attacks’ on him. John himself rang later and, if it’s any satisfaction to the Sunday Express, we had the fullest and friendliest chat we’ve had for ages.
Friday, April 11th
An old-fashioned pub-crawl. Down to Cambridge Circus on the 24 bus, walk along Old Compton Street, past the cinema with its huge and quite grabbing adornment of posters, turn down Dean Street at 5.45 and into the York Minster. Eric, whose suggestion this little jaunt was, rolls along about 6.00, and we split a half bottle of champagne.
From the York Minster we move on up Dean Street to the Nellie Dean, where we find Tony Stratton-Smith, ebullient and highly excited by the first week’s figures. Grail is No. 3 in London this week, and has grossed nearly £19,000.
I really must try and cut down on this wining and dining, but it’s all part of the unnerving transitional world Python is in. Terry G and I admit we spend far more time than is healthy talking, analysing, discussing every aspect of the group and the group’s dynamic, but, as Terry says, it’s becoming like a drug. We need our daily fix of Python. I know as I sink, heavy-stomached into my bed, that Terry G will ring me over the weekend, and tell me how he thinks Eric’s becoming very positive again … and if we can only get rid of Graham … goodnight Vienna … At least we still laugh about it all.
One thing is different this time – whereas before Python in ‘69 we were only a moderately saleable commodity as a group, and quite unsaleable as individuals, now we have a high reputation and a good name as both. The film’s success in the last couple of weeks has helped to prolong Python’s life and greatly increase its prestige.
Wednesday, April 17th
This afternoon, I go to the BBC to see Jimmy Gilbert. I have already decided to turn down, on grounds of dangerous lack of time, JG’s offer of the six now defunct Python slots next autumn. This didn’t seem to deter him. He clearly just wants me to do a show – he isn’t really concerned about subject matter and he has a director, Terry Hughes, who wants to work with me.
Terry Hughes, neat, almost over-amiable, smiling, regular-featured – he looks like an advert for suits – has been anxious to do a show with me for two years, and now clearly feels that he has priority over others when JG wants to get a show together around me.
Terry and I talk – me fencing a little to try and find TH’s attitudes. He says he wants to do a show which is exciting and experimental. He drops his voice and says, wearily, ‘Anything after two and a half years of Two Ronnies.
So … OK, I say, I would be happy with JG’s plan to commission one show, which will be the first of a series if it works. Whereas this sort of caution would have driven us mad in Python, or Do Not Adjust, now it suit’s me fine.
With Monty Python and the Holy Grail set to open in New York, we set off across the Atlantic for the second time in a month.
Thursday, April 24th, New York
Eric has been in NY since last Saturday, Terry G since Sunday and Terry J since Tuesday night – and today Graham and I have to leave hot and sunny London to join them. We take off around 12.30.
No-one could be found to meet us, so we took a cab from Kennedy. Sadly we seem to have exchanged fine weather for foul. It was grey, glowering and raining as we joined the traffic jams on Van Wyck Expressway and East River Drive. Both of us hungry, so we revived ourselves with large and delicious club sandwiches and beers at the St Moritz Hotel. As we walked back to the Navarro, two girls, one Oriental and spotty, the other American and fat, accosted us. ‘Oh, it’s you … Oh! We’ve just been talking to the two Terrys and they were so nice, but Eric just walked past us!’
Friday, April 25th,