Tag Archives: python

Nilsson: the Book

I just finished reading the new biography of Harry Nilsson by Alyn Shipton, titled Nilsson: The Life of a Singer-Songwriter. I knew Harry, off and on, for the last 15 years of his life, but there were great gaps in my knowledge of the man, gaps that this book filled most admirably. In fact, if I had known this much about his life and times before I’d met him, I’d probably have been too intimidated to approach him.   Harry N

One bit of full disclosure. In the early 90s, he wanted to shop around his autobiography, and I helped him to put together a proposal (I met Harry through the Pythons in general and Graham Chapman in particular); to that end, he sent me what he had written up to that point. I helped him package it and helped him send it around, but there were no takers, so I sadly sent it all back. But his family held onto it long enough for Shipton to mine it for quotes and other information.

Dominating a huge portion of that life, of course, were the Beatles, particularly John and Ringo, though there are some wonderful anecdotes about Paul and George as well. It’s worth reading for that reason alone, but his life crossed so many other paths that I could scarcely believe my eyes.

Harry & RingoHis childhood was spent shuffled from relative to relative, crossing the country alone at a frighteningly early age, until he wound up working as a bank manager. He kept that job even after he started finding success as a singer-songwriter, but shortly after he left it, the Beatles famously described him as their “favorite group.” He went on to major Grammy-winning success, but his success did not serve him well. He was a major part of John Lennon’s “lost weekend,” during which Lennon produced his “Pussycats” album, but drink and drugs took their toll on his personal life and on his amazing voice. I know people who encountered Harry during this period, and they described a different man than the Harry I knew. Of course, I knew him after he had mostly quit drinking, and that had a huge positive affect on him and his family.

During his prime, he was turning out iconic hits like “Everybody’s Talkin'” and “Without You” (both written by others), while writing songs that others made into huge hits (Three Dog Night’s “One”). But he refused to be pigeon-holed, and his albums are incredible mixtures of rockers and old standards and everything in between. Yet he prided himself for never playing live concerts, and for the most part, he remained true to that.

Nilsson does an amazing job of analyzing nearly every song he recorded (Shipton is a music writer), though I would have liked to have read more about his personal life, and his life after 1980 is given particularly short shrift. Then again, those were seemingly the saddest years for Harry, at least professionally, when his health began to suffer and his finances suffered because he trusted people he shouldn’t have trusted. I enjoyed reading Nilsson until around 1980 for that reason–then it became a little too painful. But I know the 80s were his happiest family time with his family, making up for what he never had, so I’m not sure Harry regretted them.

Harry 2It should also be noted that he spend time in the 80s campaigning against Handgun Violence after John Lennon was assassinated, so even though he had mostly retired from music, he stayed active. He did appear at a number of Beatles Fan Conventions and sang (usually two or three songs) to raise money for the charity. Near the end, to repair his finances for his family, he was even planning a concert tour, but his ill health prevented that from happening. And frankly, his voice was not what it had once been, either, after those years of abuse. But Harry was still Harry, and I’m sure his personality could have made up for any musical lapses.

It’s such a cliche to say that “his music lives on,” but the new episode of HBO’s Girls featured the cast dancing to Harry’s provocative “You’re Breakin’ My Heart.” He would have loved that, but I’m sure he knew he would be remembered regardless. And thanks to Nilsson: The Life of a Singer-Songwriter, I was able to spend a few more hours with Harry.

iO Python Process class

Tonight is the final session of my iO Chicago Python Process class. I’m going to miss this a lot! The group is busily polishing sketches and tonight we’ll decide on a running order and do a reading with a few invited guests. If my students are having as much fun as I am, I’m going to have to organize another one of these very soon.

We’ve been watching videos, writing, and discussing re-writes and they’ve been learning collaboration a la Python. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Okay, I couldn’t resist this one… but nobody rocks an invisible horse like this lot.

An iO Python Winter

If you live in the American Midwest and you have any sense, you probably stayed someplace warm Monday night and didn’t bother to venture out in the sub-zero temperatures.

But the dozen brave souls who were students in my Python Process writing class at the iO Chicago and I had a more interesting time.

You see, when I started teaching this class, the idea was to use the Monty Python writing process (and showing them a lot of Python-related film clips and talking about my own personal experiences) as a sneaky way to teach them about re-writing and collaborating.

I thought about postponing Monday night’s class, but when I heard that one of the students was driving in–from Michigan, no less–I figured I’d better give it a go. And in fact, the interstate roads were mostly dry and clear, and the trip was surprisingly easy.

And I was glad I did. What started as a group that liked watching Python clips, is doing some terrific writing work, producing some very funny material, and making it better by allowing other groups of students to re-work it. It’s a great group, although I’m not sure why I’m surprised that Python fans would make good sketch writers. And now, my only regret is that it’s just a four-week class, and it’ll be over just as they’re hitting their stride.

 

 

Christmas in Heaven

‘Tis the season for one of my favorite Graham Chapman performances, from Meaning of Life. I remember walking around the soundstage with Graham during the filming, and noticing the huge set of steps that he would have to walk down during the song. He admitted he was a little nervous–it was a huge, tall set of stairs, and his descent was being choreographed by Arlene Phillips. But he shot it shortly afterward–and the result should put you in the Christmas spirit…

Sellout

As I write this, there are only two more spots open in my Python Process writing class at the iO Chicago. This is the one I warned you about here. This sold out almost as quickly as the Python reunion shows! If you missed out this time, cross fingers, and maybe we can offer it again soon.

If you were able to sign up for it, I’ll see you in January. This should be fun!

iO Chicago Python Process class!

I just heard that the announcement for my Python writing class is about to be emailed out. And, since I promised yesterday that I’d give all of my blog followers notice, consider yourself noticed! The three-hour workshop filled up in just a few hours, so if you want to reserve a space in this lengthier, more detailed, four-week session, this might be a good time to do it, especially as there are only 14 spaces in the new class.

Both this workshop and the previous one will take a close look at the Python writing process–how they collaborated and re-wrote each others’ material–and how you can use their methods for your own nefarious means. It should be a lot of fun, so if you’re in the Chicago area and it sounds like something you’d like, contact the iO Chicago!

November 22

Happy birthday wishes to Terry Gilliam, 73 years young!

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Isn’t that what we all think of when we think of November 22?

Pythons United, Part 2

ImageAs Judith told Reg in Life of Brian: It’s happening, something’s actually happening!

That’s the answer to the question I’ve been getting all day. The Python Reunion is on. 2014 is going to be the biggest Python year since 1983, when Meaning of Life was released.

I’ve known about this for months now–so much for everyone who said I couldn’t keep a secret!–but when I first found out, my reaction was much the same as everyone hearing about it today.

Even though Graham Chapman died in 1989, he will be included in the show. He wouldn’t have it any other way. But details are still being worked out. The guys just spent all day together, and scripts are being finalized.

There will be a press conference on Thursday in London, with the group announcing when and where. I’m still biting my lip, so you’ll have to come back here Thursday for all of the details. It’s going to be worth it.

George Again

Monty Python’s Life of Brian opened in New York the year after shooting wrapped in Tunisia. It was a soft opening at first–it was slipped into one theatre and ran largely without controversy for several weeks. Then in September, the Pythons themselves all flew into town (and so, naturally, did I). They kept to a rather busy schedule, doing lots of TV, radio, and press interviews to promote the film, which was getting great reviews but also upsetting a few folks (Graham Chapman told me “There are some people whom one would wish to offend”). While I was walking to their Central Park South hotel, I saw a full-page tabloid headline from one of the smaller newspapers–I can’t recall precisely what it said, but it seemed a little jarring to see a full-page headline devoted to the film. When I got back to their hotel, I ran into one of the people with Handmade Films. When I told her about it, she was quite interested, so I promised to get her a copy if I could find one.

Not long afterward, I found and bought the last remaining copy I could find of the tabloid, and dutifully headed back to the hotel. For some reason, there were dozens of people gathered in front, but I brushed past them and made my way to the elevator. I rode up to the suite that was serving as base camp for Handmade and knocked on the door. A smiling John Goldstone, the film’s producer, opened it and said hello. “Hi, John,” I smiled, and brushed past him, heading toward the adjoining room. I had planned to drop off the newspaper and leave. John appeared a little uneasy, but I was moving too quickly for him to stop me.

Then, from the far corner of the room, I heard someone call “Howard? Howard Johnson?” I turned to see George Harrison grinning back at me.

GeorgeHarrison

I was a little stunned. The one and only time I had met George was nearly a year ago, in Tunisia, during the slightly chaotic evening that I wrote about last week. I hadn’t noticed him, but he recognized me! I later realized that in addition to our conversation, he probably recalled me from the Python fanzine that I had given him a year ago. If he could remember that, he was a serious Python fan.

We chatted for a few minutes, then John Goldstone politely interrupted George and reminded him that they had an appointment for lunch. I rode down the elevator with them, with George chatting away. I asked him about the rather large crowd in front of the hotel, whether it was for him, but he shook his head “no” and speculated that it was for The Who, who were playing their first concerts since Keith Moon’s passing. When we got to the first floor, he didn’t seem to want to leave. But business called, and they slipped through the lobby to the adjacent Stork Room, avoiding the crowd outside.

Later that day, I came down the elevator with another guy who looked vaguely familiar. We got off and he walked outside, into the crowd, which swarmed around him for autographs. I thought it might be Kenny Jones, who was filling in as drummer for The Who at the time. So I asked an enthusiastic member of the crowd, who gasped breathlessly “That’s Bruce Springsteen!” He was playing that weekend for the No Nukes concert. A lot happens in New York…

I was a little surprised I hadn’t recognized him, but not particularly bothered. Riding in an elevator with Bruce Springsteen was anti-climactic after visiting with my pal George.