Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [284]
Apparently most of her work involves hanging in harness alongside Christopher Reeve whilst people do strange things to them. They have to fight an eagle on the top of the Empire State Building. The first ‘eagle’ they got was from Taiwan and looked so un-eagle-like, with a funny red crop on its head, that it was sent home and it was decided instead to use large falcons. The falcons would only fly after chicken bones, so Margot and Superman were suspended, with wind machine blowing them, between one man hurling falcons towards another man holding chicken legs.
As Superman perspired heavily, leaving tell-tale patches around the armpits of his costume, one member of the crew was standing by to blow-dry his armpits.
The length and design of Superman’s cock was the subject of much controversy, which culminated in Superman appearing at a photo-session with a large metal dong down his tights. Margot said she got so fed up with this thing digging into her leg that she took to flicking it with her fingernail, causing a light but noticeable metallic ting every time she touched his shorts.
The Salkinds are not the most conventional businessmen, she readily admits, but she thinks the movie will be great and confirms the rumour I heard at the Shepperton board meeting that it will be premiered at the White House.
Monday, May 8th
To Devonshire Place to face Dr Kieser and the dreaded world of gingivectomy.
Debbie is there and bucks me up in the waiting room with enthusiastic words about the Ripping Yarns – had I seen Celia Brayfield’s piece in the Standard last Friday saying that the Yarns were the only things worth staying in for on Friday evenings … ? These crumbs of comfort are gobbled up eagerly.
The surgery, which involves one half of my mouth, top and bottom, begins just after six and goes on for two hours, almost without a break. Kieser is thorough, but much more gentle than Robin Powell, constantly congratulating me on being a model patient and doing everything to make sure I’m as comfortable as it’s possible to be with someone slicing into your gums and scraping away at the exposed bone.
I’m stitched up and sent away with a reassuring collection of mouthwashes, extra-strong aspirin, should I need it, swabs, should bleeding recur … and the plaudits of the cheery, extrovert South African ringing in my ears.
Thursday, May 18th
Just like the old days. Up at 7.45 for an hour’s work, then down to Terry’s around ten for a day’s writing that lasts until seven. With a great effort of concentration we have completed a typescript of the ‘Potter of the Punjab’ tale, now called ‘Roy of the Raj’. It will go to the BBC tomorrow and I have a feeling that we shall be filming it in July.
Saturday, May 20th
Wonderful start to the day – a letter from Spike Milligan saying simply ‘Ripping Yarns are super – more please.’ What an accolade. For me it’s like Pelé telling you you’re a good footballer.
Gilliam and Terry J dropped in – though at different times. TG has finished his film script, he says. I asked what he was going to do now. ‘Write it,’ quipped the paranoid animator.
Sunday, May 21st
To a lunch party at Tom Stoppard’s in Iver Heath.
It’s a marquee do – with lots of noise and clinking of opinions.
Miriam greets us effusively. Her two – or two of her several children – are great Ripping Yarn fans. I’m getting worried by all these children who love it – not by them, but by the lack of corresponding enthusiasm amongst grown men and women. Tom asks what it’s like to be everybody’s favourite children’s programme.
Talk to Prunella Scales and husband Tim West. Pru says she was not really happy doing the first series of Fawlty Towers – she was so concerned with getting it right and lacked confidence in her part. But I think this is a touch of theatrical modesty.
Clive James, looking very pallid – as if trying deliberately to throw off the bronzed Aussie image – heaves over to our table, plonks himself down beside Prunella and declares ‘I’m Clive James, I’ve come to lionise you.’
After finishing