Who wouldn't be thrilled to get a “new” Arthurian-themed Monty Python sketch? In a way, this show sort of has one. Roughly ten months before the premiere of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Michael Palin and Terry Jones collaborated on this silly historical spoof series, very much in the vein of Mel Brooks’ History of the World. For years, only two of the six episodes were thought to survive, in poor condition. However, the tapes of the entire series were recently rediscovered and restored, so The Complete and Utter History of Britain can now premiere today on BritBox.
Compared to Python, the early series was far less consistent. Clearly, the Pythons (when not feuding) brought out the best in each other, sharpening their collective material. As cruel fate would have it, for years, the first episode, one of the two previously available, happened to be the weakest of the lot. The best bit was indeed the Arthurian sketch, in which a Knight of the Roundtable must submit voluminous bureaucratic paperwork, before saving a damsel from a monster. The tribute to the grievously overlooked year of 1065 is also a somewhat clever idea.
Yet, fate also provided, because the second instalment, which was also previously available, is one of the better of the six-episode run. Surprisingly, character actor Wallas Eaton’s posthumous stock should rise with the rediscovery of the series. He earns consistent laughs, such as his portrayal as a royal food-taster. You can surely guess where it is headed, but it is still funny.
This episode features several as-if “TV commercials” from 1189 that are quite funny, but could move the professionally offended to apoplexy. It is important to note, they are satirizing the attitudes of the Dark Ages, rather than endorsing them, but context means little to the woke. The portrayal of Robin Hood as part social worker and part gangster also still has bite and cultural relevance.
Arguably, Eaton again supplies the highlight of episode three, appearing as Richard III, pretending to be the Princes’ new babysitter. Perhaps the most Python-esque sketch comes in episode four, when the bicycle-riding, accordion-playing, baguette-wielding French Army uses their peculiarly French weapons and tactics to defeat the English at 1557 Calais. Seriously, there is no greater Python tradition than mocking the smelly French.
Episode five provides a perfect example of the Python approach to drag that scolds will surely deem “problematic.” In this case, Palin portrays Queen Elizabeth, demonstrating how she successfully scared away her suitors. Of all the drag bits in Complete and Utter, this is probably the best, so now feel free to proceed with your meltdown.
Perhaps the funniest section of this episode is the Chopping Block talk show, in which the latest state executions are analyzed by the guest experts, but younger viewers who probably have not seen the “public affairs” broadcasts it emulates, likely will not fully appreciate it. Yet, for Python fans, Palin’s best scene probably comes in the sixth episode, when he gives an appropriately arrogant monologue in persona of King James I.
Ironically, throughout the series, the biggest laughs come from the disdainful host, Colin Gordon, who makes no secret of his contempt for the show’s incompetence, especially the resident historian, Professor Weaver. Fans of The Prisoner will recognize him as one of the few Number Twos who made a repeat appearance. Number Six got the better of him in “A, B, or C” by taking control of his drug induced dreams, but he had his revenge in “The General,” the super-computer episode. It turns out Gordon was also hilarious, in a bone-dry way.
Still, Jones and Palin are always jolly willing to humiliate themselves for laughs, while Gordon and Eaton display comic chops many viewers might not have previously associated with them. Recommended for its historical significance (so to speak) and its gleeful rudeness, The Complete [minus the two truly “lost” episodes that were never broadcast] and Utter History of Britain starts streaming today (11/20) on BritBox.
