First, the gift shop: bloodthirsty stuffed bunnies, “Fetchez La Vache!” (“Get the cow!”) tees, coconut halves “imported exclusively by African swallows.” It’s a merchandising dream for anyone who was ever a college stoner or Anglophile-comedy geek, providing they can now swing the decidedly adult price tags. And what better environ to don that new Black Knight costume and “I Fart in Your General Direction” button than the interactive, over-the-top-athon that is Monty Python’s Spamalot, the stage adaptation of the British comedy troupe’s film Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Two years after original Python Eric Idle spearheaded its Broadway debut, Spamalot sets up shop at the Wynn, that classy joint famed for its Ferrari dealership, AAA five-diamond rating and clientele accustomed to the finer things in life.
Did we mention the gift shop’s limited-edition “Golden Honey Grail” Spam tins?
Spamalot would seem tailor-made for tourist audiences. The sets are large, decadent and, as noted by a grove of dollar-sign bedecked trees, “very expensive.” Familiar quotes, visual puns and easy pop-culture references (Michael Moore, American Idol) compose the arsenal of gags. Not to say the production isn’t bottom-boiling hilarious; far from it. It’s just hilarious in the way repeat Rocky Horror Picture Show screenings are hilarious.
Not in on the in-joke? You’ll still get the punchline but may question the setup, as Spamalot effectively jettisons the familiar (albeit sparse) storyline, instead loosely basting the film’s most quotable scenes together into an hour and 45 minutes worth of greatest hits. “Bring out your dead,” the Knights who say “Ni!” and the Trojan Rabbit make the cut; sadly, “she’s a witch!” and the Bridge of Death do not.
John O’Hurley (Seinfeld, Dancing with the Stars) takes the (invisible) reins as King Arthur. Though the show’s other notable name remains piped-in Python John Cleese as the Voice of God, the former J. Peterman recruits an able supporting cast of knights: the armor-soiling Sir Robin (Harry Bouvy), the Fabio-channeling Sir Dennis Galahad (Edward Staudenmayer), the “strangely flatulent” Sir Bedevere (Randal Keith) and the latently homosexual Sir Lancelot (J. Anthony Crane). A showboating Lady of the Lake (Nikki Crawford) adds bosom-heaving bravado to the mix, belting out musical numbers “The Song That Goes Like This” and “The Diva’s Lament” with more gusto than the combined ensemble brings to “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” (imported not from Africa, but from Monty Python’s Life of Brian).
After a brief respite in a castle well-stocked with girls, gaming and grub (conveniently, this imagining of Camelot, as well as the finale’s Holy Grail Wedding Chapel, were Broadway originals), Arthur and Co. are dispatched to find the Grail. But first they must launch a Broadway musical. Robin must secure the theatrical talents of some Jews. Arthur must marry the Lady of the Lake. Lancelot must unleash his inner Carmen Miranda. And whatever happened to that elusive Grail? There it is, under an audience member’s seat!
Though little is sacrificed from the Broadway original, the pace remains choppy throughout. Humor, a serviceable cast and a youthful enthusiasm Spamalot’s got; a sense of continuity and cohesiveness it doesn’t.
So Python purists may storm the castle. Grail newbies might wonder what they just sat through. The overwhelming majority of ticket-holders, however, will politely chuckle through the entire production before rushing home, sticking the film at the top of Ye Olde Netflix Queue and reacquainting themselves with its 1975-era low-budget genius. Just like real-life Spam, the musical makes for an entertaining substitute, but given the choice, you’d much rather sink your teeth into the far meatier original.
Spamalot Gift Shop
*****
Spamalot Musical
***
Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays at 8 p.m.; Tuesdays, Fridays, Saturdays at 7 and 10 p.m., $49-$99. The Wynn, 770-9966.