Spam To Enjoy

Tuesday night, I had the good fortune of seeing “Spamalot” when its tour stopped in Burlington, Vermont.

The Monty Python show was everything I love about a performance. Loud, brash, tasteless, tacky, over the top and extremely funny.

It’s an adaptation of the movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” and tracks, very loosely, the tale of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

Of course, they throw in lots of glaring non sequitors such as cheerleaders,  way-too-glitzy Las Vegas-type productions, snarling French people, a killer rabbit, showgirls, an annoyed diva, and singers who really don’t like the songs they are performing.

The whole thing was so intentially ridiculous that I envied the actors in the production.  They all looked like they were having as much fun as the crowd that gathered for the sold-out show. I have no idea how the actors were able to avoid breaking character and laughing at their own antics.

I’m sure I embarrassed Jeff, who took me to the performance, because my laugh tends to soar above everybody else’s giggles.

They Spamalot cast seemed to particularly skewer those over-produced spectacles that Americans seem to like so much. You know, the singers who yell and over-emote rather than actually sing.(Paging Celine Dion) The glitzy stage sets and lights that overwhelm the audience and beat them into submission. The dancers that smile so broadly that their faces look about to break into a million pieces.

Since seeing the show, I’ve been driving myself nuts humming that faux-saccharine whistiling tune from Spamalot, “Always look on the bright side of life…..

As I watched Spamalot, I for once reveled in a too-big spectacle that I could actually embrace. Thank you, Monty Python.

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