Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [225]
Saturday, February 19th, Abbotsley
After a bath, in which I read a fascinating chapter from Plain Tales from the Raj – a book of reminiscences about the British in India [by Charles Allen] – and concluded that we must write a colonial Ripping Yarn next year, walked to Highgate West Hill and caught a 214 bus to King’s Cross and then the 9.30 Cambridge train and reached St Neots at a quarter to eleven.
On the journey read a synopsis sent to me in the post today by Christopher Matthew’s agent with a letter beginning ‘Over lunch with John Cleese, Christopher Matthew said how very much he would like to turn his Sunday Times column – “Diary of a Somebody” – into a television series. John’s instant reaction was that you were absolutely the right person for it.’
Actually I like the columns – a modern Diary of a Nobody. They’re very well written and he can turn a humorous phrase, but, even if I did have time, I reflected, as the train chattered through the industrial estates of Stevenage and Biggleswade, that I didn’t really want to do comedy all my life. A commitment to this would be a commitment to light, rather parochial comedy for another two or three years, and then I’ll be nearly 40 and too old for the Robert de Niro roles I subconsciously yearn for.
Monday, February 21st
Woke feeling gratefully fresh, after a long, deep sleep. Another day of fairly continuous rain showers. Terry came up here to write.
At two we went up to Hampstead for a pizza and saw the Goodies, Tim, Graham and Bill, all in almost identical blue anoraks walking up Flask Walk ahead of us. Enjoyed ourselves immensely, shouting loud and coarsely after them – ‘Goodies!’ ‘Eric Cleese!’ ‘Do us your silly walk!’ ‘Where’s your bicycle?’ and watching them deliberately not turn around or quicken their pace in the face of this volley. Even at the top of the hill, when we were almost beside them, they only looked round very furtively and then away again. Finally Bill did an enormous double-take.
Friday, February 25th
More writing on ‘The Curse of the Claw’. Helen leaves for Amsterdam at a quarter to four [to visit her friend Ranji]. The kids are all very good, though boisterous (Tom has his friend Jud for tea). But I get them all out of the way by 8.15.
Monday, February 28th
The weekend with the children was very successful, but rushed, of course. To the Columbia Theatre for the children’s ‘trial’ preview of Jabberwocky. I took Tom and Willy, Nicky1 and Catherine Burd.2
It still strikes me as a very good film overall, but the high spots – jousts, monster and black knight fights – are so good that I couldn’t help noticing points where the flow of the film – the headlong, extrovert flow – gets snagged up in little scenes which don’t have the vitality of the rest. But the children enjoyed it. For Thomas it was the best film he’d ever seen, much better than At the Earth’s Core or Island at the Top of the World!
Saw Terry G afterwards. He’d been at the back, taking, as they say in the States, an ‘overview’. He had just returned from a crash course in US film distribution. Apparently, after a week of showings and discussions and soundings, Rugoff’s now convinced Jabberwocky could be a big one, and is talking of ordering 1,000 prints.
Terry said the energy of this apparently sloth-like man is incredible. They never finished a meal and, when Terry suggested that the reactions to the film were so far all from sophisticated New York audiences, Don Rugoff nearly flew him off to Austin Texas on the spot. But Terry and John looked very happy, both with the States and with the enthusiastic reaction from the kids today.
To Mary and Edward’s for a very pleasant, effortless Sunday lunch, then Willy is off to another party. The Willy phenomenon has to be seen to be believed. No sooner had the door opened at the house of the party than William was grabbed by two or three girls,