Sex, Lies, and Knights Who Say 'Ni'

Who was Graham Chapman? Let us start simply, with a wiki-light summary of the facts: he was a member of the Monty Python comedy sextet, whose sketches and films popularised and redefined absurdist humour in the 1960s and 70s. He had the starring role in two British comedy classics, The Holy Grail and Life of Brian, films so quotable that they can still turn entire dinner conversations into full-scale line-by-line recaps amongst the cult initiated. He was one of the first outspokenly bisexual public figures, coming out in an era where being gay in private was just newly decriminalised. He had a destructive long-term relationship with alcohol, rising to binges of four pints of gin a day. He studied medicine at Cambridge. He liked rugby and smoking pipes, and died of throat cancer in 1989, aged 48.

With all these facts established, does this mean we now know who Chapman was? Of course not. We have now learned as much about Graham Chapman as a fish can learn of flying; all this information will never convey to us the true essence of the mind behind the Dead Parrot sketch. Conversely, in their new animated film based on Chapman’s book, A Liar’s Autobiography, Bill Jones, Jeff Simpson and Ben Timlett have attempted to go beyond these little factual footnotes in an attempt to give the audience the sensation of what it was to be Graham Chapman.

In an interview with the three creators, they brought across the importance of remaining faithful to Chapman’s personal style, and to present him as he would himself. One important way they serve this purpose is through the film’s narration, which uses archive recordings of Chapman reading from his book shortly before he passed away, intercut with newly recorded dialogue from the surviving members of Monty Python. As Jeff Simpson asserts, “the idea was for Graham to narrate his own life story from beyond the grave”.

Bill Jones continues: “I personally love the idea of bringing him back, and having him tell his own story his own way, rather than having a more contextual and factual approach”. Indeed, Jones and Timlett had already covered the factual approach in their excellent documentary miniseries Monty Python, Almost the Truth: The Lawyers’ Cut, made for the BBC in 2009. Thus, having covered comprehensively the factual history of Python, they were now interested in taking us into the world of its most elusive and mysterious member. Ben asserts: “I don’t think Graham knew who he was himself, so trying to do a documentary on him would be too hard. We spoke to his brother, and his partner, and even they agreed that they weren’t really sure who he was. I think it’s more important to get across how he envisioned himself.”

To this end, the team has remained faithful to the style of Chapman’s book. The film is in essence an animated series of episodes that imitates the irreverent sketch structure of its source. It tells a tale of Chapman replete with a lot of poetic embellishment and a few blatant lies, which when seen together recount something of a greater truth about their protagonist. A sequence showing a chemistry lesson at Cambridge climaxes with Graham violently and literally dissecting his professor; another shows him touring through space in a little pod-craft to pay visits to Elton John and Alan Bennett. In essence, the film diverts from the dull realities of his actuallife to give us a more faithful depiction of Graham’s inner response to the events within it.

Terry Jones and Michael Palin bombard the breeze

In addition, it is the first time the Python team has collaborated on a creative project since Graham’s passing. Throughout the film we hear the voices of John Cleese, Terry Jones, Terry Gilliam and Michael Palin (Eric Idle was unfortunately unavailable due to scheduling conflicts), as they voice an ensemble of real people from throughout Chapman’s life, as well as various imaginary beings from the world of the book itself. For instance, at various points the Python team reappears as a troupe of CGI monkeys debating within Graham’s mind; we’re a far cry away from a traditional biopic à la Walk the Line.

Despite the involvement of the original Python cast, the creators are adamant that this not be considered solely as a new Python project, as Ben explains: “We were keen on this not being a Python movie; this is a Graham Chapman movie. We followed the book quite closely. Anytime we had a question of what to do, we’d ask ourselves what Graham would do. As such, it follows the sketch style of the Python TV series quite closely, but we’ve updated the formula by using a variety of young animators to make it fresh.”

Indeed, the film’s wide range of young animators (according to Jeff, the average age was 28) is reflected through the vast array of animation styles within the film, from classic hand-drawing to modern 3D rendering to Terry Gilliam-esque cut-and-paste that recalls the bizarre animated segues of classic Python. Bill adds: “Because of the way [Graham] writes about himself, how he keeps switching into different tones and styles of writing, we thought the use of multiple styles of animation was a great way to reflect this.” The result has often been compared to Yellow Submarine for its strange dream-like cartoon imagery, but experiencing it first-hand feels more like Being John Malkovich. In that film, John Cusack discovers a portal that lets him see the world through Malkovich’s eyes for a quarter of an hour at a time; similarly, A Liar’s Autobiography grants its audience ninety minutes inside the dreams of a troubled comic genius.

L to R: Jeff Simpson, Bill Jones and Ben Timlett

Bill Jones agrees with the comparison: “We wanted to embrace the concept of falling into this man’s brain. We tried to make it feel like we’re taking you on a ride. In a funny way, we weren’t worried about people being confused; each scene might start with a bit of confusion, but eventually the audience will get the thread of it”. Indeed, whilst the stylistic structure of the film appears baffling at first, as it progresses one begins to understand its otherworldly internal logic. Jeff adds: “It’s very much that Pythonesque thing, of creating a silly world that at first glance can easily be dismissed as just that, but which nevertheless does adhere to its own internal set of rules.” Bill agrees: “It does have its own sort of twisted, logical base”. According to Ben, there was nevertheless an attempt to structure the episodes in rough chronological order, in contrast to the source material: “We did try to make it somewhat linear in comparison to the book, just to give the audience a chance!”

Overall, the film stands as a wonderfully fitting eulogy to an elusive comic figure. At once comparable to the subconscious-raiding cinema of Charlie Kaufman and David Lynch, it also evokes absurdist character studies from Tristram Shandy to Death of a Salesman. However, unlike the doomed tale of Willy Loman, A Liar’s Autobiography is far from conventional tragedy; the film can be at times very dark, yet even at its most macabre there is a profound comic sensibility at work, seeking mirth within the madness, gleefully farting into the abyss. As such, it is a fine tribute to the man who gave us laughter in the form of a dead parrot. To quote John Cleese, who concludes the film in archive footage from Chapman’s memorial service, “anything for Graham but mindless good taste”.

“A Liar’s Autobiography: The Untrue Story of Monty Python’s Graham Chapman” is out now on DVD and Blu-ray, and also playing in 3D in a limited selection of cinemas. In addition, it is available for download online and as video-on-demand, and on Netflix, so there’s no excuse. For more information, and a very silly survey, visit www.liarsautobiography.com

Three overlooked classic Monty Python Sketches:

The Northern Playwright – A brilliant reversal of cliché, in which Chapman plays a hard-worn celebrity playwright father who laments his son’s decision to pursue an ephemeral and unstable career in coal-mining.

Mrs. Beethoven– in which John Cleese’s Beethoven attempts to compose his dramatic 5th symphony, but is constantly interrupted by Chapman’s fictitious Mrs. Beethoven as she berates him with questions such as where he put the jam spoon.

All England Summarise Proust Competition – Chapman plays one of a group of bumbling academics in a TV game show that challenges them to sum up Marcel Proust’s thousand page meta-epic A la récherche du temps perdu in one minute. As elitist as that sounds, it is actually a hilarious parody of academic jargon that will appeal to anyone who’s ever had to ramble their way through a literature essay.

Film Review: NO

The setting is Chile, the year is 1988.  Finally conceding to international pressure, brutal dictator General Augusto Pinochet is forced to hold a referendum on whether he should remain in power, with the citizens of Chile called to the ballot boxes to vote simply with either yes or no (SI or NO).  In the run up to this plebiscite, there will be an advertising campaign from both sides of the SI/NO divide, with each given a fifteen minute slot every evening to argue their case on international television.

Pablo Larrain’s new film, NO, deals with the concluding chapter of Pinochet’s fifteen year reign of terror, but this is far from a cinematic portrayal of atrocity akin to what we are used to seeing in depictions of dictatorship such as The Last King of Scotland or Downfall.  Instead, Larrain chooses to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel by pushing Pinochet into the background, in his place, bringing us face to face with the people responsible for running the advertising campaign that sought to convince the people of Chile to vote NO.

At the forefront of the campaign is Gael García Bernal’s René, who decides against running a series of negative adverts highlighting the many murders, imprisonments, exiles and mysterious disappearances for which Pinochet was to blame.  In their place, René proposes to pitch the wonders of democracy like it was Coca-Cola, with saturated clips of people dancing and laughing and singing for a better tomorrow.  Bizarrely, this seems to work: the slogans catch on and the future looks bright, but will the entire vote transpire to be a sham? Is René’s life now in danger?  The pen may perhaps be more powerful than the sword, but is it more powerful than an entire army of guns, tanks, and artillery all in furious favour of their fearless leader?

Larrain’s film is shot through an aged filter that makes the entire narrative seem like archive reels from the film’s period setting; with occasional seamless reverts to genuine footage of the era.  This proves to be a very powerful cinematic weapon, with the harsh grainy filmstock and naturalistic lighting making the events far more real and approachable than the glossy over-worked visuals of a typical period fodder, like Pearl Harbor. In addition, the acting is excellent across the board, with García Bernal’s screen presence typically mesmerising; his star quality is of the rare and special kind that is both glamorous and approachable.  Had the NO campaign merely ran footage of his teary baby brown eyes as he fears for his family then one would imagine they could have won overnight.

However, one main problem with the film lies in its inevitable lack of narrative tension; this is a common issue for all movies that serve as a historical account, whereby the fact that we are already aware from the beginning how it will end distils the potential for edge-of-the-seat suspense.  Furthermore, the film’s fidelity to its story on every level could either be seen as a great relief or its most striking flaw – Larrain refuses, commendably, to overdramatize the account by splitting it up into a typical tale of good vs. bad, or to overindulge the audience with bloody footage of riots and rebellion.  On the one hand, the fact that we are spared of the extent of the violence gives it a much greater impact in the rare occasions when it is shown.  On the other, we are never completely convinced of what is at stake, should Pinochet win the vote; at times the film feels more like an extended episode of Mad Men, or even a campaign for the winner of X-Factor.

All the same, the fascinating nature of the true story itself, that of a Dictator toppled by the sheer power of advertising, is enough to recommend this fitting tribute to democracy to anyone with an interest in politics, history, the power of the media or even just Bernal’s baby browns.

4/5 stars