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Fool Monty: holy gales of laughter

BY GORDON COX | Gordon Cox is a regular contributor to Newsday.

March 18, 2005

Go ahead and believe the buzz emanating from the Shubert Theatre. Eric Idle and Mike Nichols have indeed fashioned a Holy Grail of a big, crowd-pleasing Broadway musical comedy out of the 1975 cult film "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." The show slays 'em like Excalibur.

"Monty Python's Spamalot" is so polished and user-friendly, in fact, that those whose adolescences were irreparably warped by "The Holy Grail" - and we know who we are - will miss the low-budget flick's spiky, unapologetic anarchy.

Although the movie never really bothered with such inconveniences as plot or character development, Idle, one of the original members of the groundbreaking British comedy troupe Monty Python, has given "Spamalot" a smidge of a story. It's just enough to make it plain that nothing much happens here except a nominal excuse for entirely gratuitous, occasionally inspired silliness.

The unevenly amusing Arthurian antics are presented with so much panache, however, that it's probably churlish to complain. Under the assured, regally goofy direction of Nichols, the all-star team of David Hyde Pierce ("Frasier"), Hank Azaria ("The Simpsons") and Tim Curry ("The Rocky Horror Picture Show") have an obvious blast as the knights whose quest for the Holy Grail leads them to a carnivorous bunny, a taunting Frenchman and a preposterously tenacious Black Knight.

The breakout in this boys' club, though, proves to be the show's leading lady, Sara Ramirez, playing both the Lady of the Lake and, in typically self-aware Python fashion, the stage diva playing the Lady. Looking demonically possessed by her own sense of melodrama, Ramirez channels everyone from Sarah Brightman to Billie Burke as Glinda the Good Witch. She owns every self-indulgent display of vocal acrobatics with a hilarious intensity that makes the character all her own.

Curry, evincing not the slightest effort to conceal his amusement with himself, oozes good-natured smarm as Arthur. Hyde Pierce, portraying the cowardly knight Sir Robin (among others), underplays the comedy so slyly that you might not notice how meticulously he has modulated his performance. Azaria gets all the really fun parts, playing not only the butch Sir Lancelot, but also hamming it up as a vulgar French taunter and a woozy Knight of Ni.

Invaluable contributions come from the elastic Christian Borle, in a variety of roles that include the girly Prince Herbert; Christopher Sieber, as a vainly blond Sir Galahad, and Michael McGrath, as the grubby second-fiddle who clip-clops those famous coconuts.

Idle and composer John Du Prez endow "Spamalot" with its own anthem, "Find Your Grail," both deeply dopey and kind of sweet in spite of itself, and a mock power ballad called "The Song That Goes Like This." Both are more successful than the second-act tunes about Jews and gays, which offer little more than warmed-over political incorrectness.

Set and costume designer Tim Hatley draws equally from the medieval cartoons from the movie and the glitz of old-fashioned Broadway. Python purists may wish that the show as a whole resorted less often to cheerily stupid razzle-dazzle: The Lady of the Lake's "Laker Girls," complete with pompoms, and a Vegas-ized Camelot are among the show's less clever components.

Still, the creators of "Spamalot" make an effort to include a little something for everyone. If the opening nonsense about Finland doesn't rouse so much as a giggle, don't miss the fake in-depth program notes for a musical about the Finnish economy. It's some of the funniest original material of the evening.