h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I remember seeing "And Now for Something Completely Different" in San Francisco at a small art-film theater in a back alley in the center of town. This was before "Monty Python's Flying Circus" began its regular run on the local Public Broadcasting Service channel and so was unknown.

A young white woman with a small son, I was in my early 20s and was accompanied by a slightly older African-American woman friend. Neither of us had led exactly mild-mannered, exemplary, middle-class lives, and we found the movie absolutely hysterical. It was nothing like anything we'd ever seen, and we laughed so hard we cried, howled, screamed, kicked the empty seats in front of us, and I actually tumbled onto the floor at one point, totally convulsed.

Not everyone felt the same as we did. The theater was less than half-full; more than half-empty summed it up better. Of the patrons, some chuckled, but most sat in stunned silence. One man, who hadn't laughed at all, glared back at us, then stomped out of the theater. He wasn't the only one to leave during the movie. But it wasn't because of us; it was because most of those who were there could not see nor understand the comic, macabre genius that filled every frame.

Madelyn and I went on to watch the TV series when it finally debuted, and remembered all the very best bits we'd seen in the film. Showing it to a Chinese-American boyfriend brought only a few chuckles from him.

Truly, Monty Python wasn't for everyone, but it certainly was for Madelyn and me. And reading John Cleese's memorial speech for Graham Chapman just now, from a link on this site, all these years later, I have to say I laughed out loud at much of it, disgusting my cats off my lap. Although I was very sorry indeed when Chapman, my favorite of the Pythons, died, maybe a send-off of that sort was just the right touch.