In our current mood of skepticism and sense of superiority about our own ancestors, it’s easy, almost obligatory, to mock their beliefs and foibles. The title of this column comes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the British comedy group’s 1975 send-up of all things medieval. (Adapted for the stage as Spamalot.) It is, at times, hilarious – that is when it’s not being sacrilegious and lascivious. It’s rated PG-13 but should be R. If you’ve seen it, you know; if you haven’t, beware: it puts the rib in ribald. You’ve been warned.
King Arthur, played with stodgy imperiousness by Graham Chapman, jogs across a sodden landscape with his faithful servant, Patsy (Terry Gilliam), following behind, clapping two coconut halves together to make the sound of hoofbeats.
At one point, Arthur encounters some peasants, who seem to be harvesting. . .mud. They ask him who he is.
King Arthur: I am your king.
Woman (Terry Jones): Well, I didn’t vote for you.
King Arthur: You don’t vote for kings.
Woman: Well, how’d you become king then?
[Angelic music plays…]
King Arthur: The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in
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