Who’s idea was this?

If you had commissioned Eric Idle in 1970 to write a spoof of a theatrical memoir, this might have been the result. This entirely unironic, sentimental and self-congratulatory diary does nothing for Idle’s legacy and succeeds only in diminishing Spamalot’s appeal (I needed to re-listen to the original cast recording to remember how brilliant the show actually is.)

I kept preparing for Idle to reveal his whole account to be a parody. How else to explain endless passages of needy self-affirmation? Every neurotic “luvvie” cliche is here - including a huff at being bumped from first class to coach on a flight to New York. Really? No advice from an editor to excise this kind of entitlement? It’s a joke, right? Sadly, not.

We are offered too few insights into the creative process (the short section on "Cutting The Cow" is a welcome exception, particularly composer John Du Prez's plaintive email arguing for the song's restoration.). There is surprisingly little struggle here given the well-documented birthing pangs of previous Python projects, only the odd tiff leading to ever greater triumphs. And even his tributes to others are a generalised gush unworthy of the talents of Mike Nichols, Tim Curry or any of the countless other names Idle idly drops here.

As an audio-book it zips along merrily with Idle's gleeful narration, a barely suppressed chuckle ever-present. I only wish I'd had half as much fun as he seems to be having reliving the delight with which his every quip was greeted and idea received.

Thank you, Eric, for your amazing body of work and I hope this publication earns you a few more pennies, but my recommendation to any Python fan is to steer well clear or instead go to Michael Palin’s diaries which in comparison appear genuinely self-aware ... or far less smug at any rate.

You voted on this review!

You reported this review!

1 person found this helpful