Jabberwocky – 1977 | 100 mins | Comedy, Fantasy | Colour

Plot Synopsis

Depending on your mood, this is either a pretentious incoherent mess or a piece of art bristling with images of stark beauty. 1 still have major problems with this cult favourite. It’s certainly a unique piece of filmmaking but the stifling atmosphere is relentless and, at the end of the day the constant stream of excrement, urine, arse-flashing, dirt, deformed limbs, self-mutilation and pure filth can get a bit too much. Although the immortal poem is embraced at the outset, this is more like Lewis Carroll after a very heavy night out with the lads, projecting a totally bizarre, other-worldly quality with the fresh-faced, charming innocence of Michael Palin plonked in the centre like a refugee of sanity tossed into bedlam. The humour sort of creeps up on you and there are massive swathes of material which are disturbing, hilarious and even more disturbing because you find them hilarious.

This is Monty Python and the Holy Grail territory with Gilliarn’s concerted effort to lift away a lot of the obvious humour and replace it with more realistic historical details, thus he skilfully moves away from the surreal, slightly off-the-wall mugging of the team into the realms of nightmarish fantasy. The cast is rich indeed, interestingly plundering the invaluable vein of mainstream British comedy successes and twisting his actors’ familiarity into haunting distortions of their popular personas. Alongside his nervy central Python star turn, Gilliam gathers together one of Dad’s Army’s magnificent seven, a Carry On legend, Steptoe’s son and a Likely Lad. There’s even a stunning central turn from that survivor of the Music Hall circuit and newly discovered Brechtian master, Max Wall. Staggering round his draughty old castle, suffering the elongated, mind numbing list of names, titles and achievements on his entrances (setting up the great gag near the end with his shock when the introduction is shortened) and grouching about the place like an ancient turtle.

The villagers of Palin’s acquaintance consider travelling a distance of two miles as the ultimate adventure; filth and disorder is everywhere; meanwhile the might of military power and the threat of the supernatural battle it out. Anyway, Gilliarn’s effort to move away from the Python label involved deliberately restructuring the first part of this film as almost totally lacking in comic content. Indeed, when revisiting Jabberwocky one can see that towards the end much more comedy is included – notably as Carry On faces play William Wycherley comedy with Harry H. Corbett’s randy old Squire, amorous fun with Alexander Dane and the bellowing bluster from Bernard Bresslaw‘s cuckolded husband. Corbett’s Robert Newtonesque rogue is the film’s high spot, embracing the ethos of the film’s filth obsession with vigour and having a whale of a time over-acting, storming through the action with flashing grin and ready wit. Bearded, bleary-eyed but retaining his Steptoe laugh, Corbett triggers the film into comedy mode, with Palin’s disastrous attempts to improve the efficiency of the metal works, the manic chase for his beloved turnip, employing football crowd cheers on the soundtrack as peasants boot the item away and Neil Innes with his continual drum beating as the King’s roll call is delivered.

The very first sequence, featuring a heavily disguised Terry Jones as the poacher, is perhaps the most effective of the entire film. Indeed, if audiences were expecting Python this pre-title sequence would certainly have put them straight immediately. Beautifully directed, there is an air of sinister menace, helped by foggy location, eerie music and effective aerial shots that give us a monster’s eye view. The attack, when it comes, is quick and gory. It’s still seen through the monster’s point of view, with Jones screaming into close-up camera, falling silently to the floor as a mass of bones and steaming fresh with the quiet atmosphere punctured by the sound of birds flying away. The title flashes across the screen in dripping red letters and we enter Gilliam’s darkest world. Palin’s ever cheerful, love-struck character is a continual joy, although his good nature is never enough to defeat the decay of the environment around him. Shunned by his dying father, rejected by his love and used by most people he meets, Palin wanders through the film like a lost soul. Abused by the Fishfinger family, even when he saves their lives, mocked by the guards, trapped into the bloodthirsty, dismembering life of a Knight’s squire he finally wanders past great piles of Jabber-poo and carcasses for the final showdown.

A film of total extremes, there is too much filth all over the shop but Gilliam’s artistic style pulls it off, contrasting beautifully filmed silhouetted compositions juxtaposed with images of arse-scratching and shitting out of windows. Now that’s extremes for you! Besides, Palin’s eager-to-please niceness, the bickering sequences between Max Wall and John LeMesurier, the great majestic sweep of mediaeval music and Harry H. Corbett’s never say die, good-time chap are more than enough to leave a more than pleasant aftertaste.

Review© Robert Ross: Monty Python Encyclopedia.