It’s been said that the music a person listens to is the
soundtrack of his or her life. If that’s true, then the movies and
television programs one watches are the screenplay.
It’s been said that the music a person listens to is the soundtrack of his or her life. If that’s true, then the movies and television programs one watches are the screenplay. In my case, many of the pages of my screenplay are devoted to Monty Python. Hardly a day goes by that something or other reminds me of a Python skit. I don’t see parrots quite the same way non-Pythonites do, nor can I even hear the word “Spam” without singing: “Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam.” The word “lumberjack” makes me laugh, as does “wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”
If you’re not a Monty Python fan, you have no idea what I’m talking about, but if you’re even remotely familiar with the groundbreaking 1970s British comedy show, you are probably at least grinning at the thought of Eric Idle saying “if you know what I mean…” in a Cockney accent.
So it was with great pleasure that I encountered John Cleese’s Wine for the Confused while browsing Netflix the other day. Cleese is the tall, thin, deadpan Python, the one who portrayed the famous Minister of Silly Walks and confronted a pet shop owner with his “ex-parrot.”
After his Python days in both television and movies, Cleese starred in Fawlty Towers, another hilarious BBC production about an innkeeper named Basil Fawlty and his wacky guests and employees – most notably the Spanish handyman Manuel. He also appeared in lots of movies, including A Fish Called Wanda, Silverado, Rockstar, the Out-of-Towners, the Harry Potter films and Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle. He also lent his voice talents to the Shrek pictures and George of the Jungle. Later, Cleese made a name for himself producing and starring in industrial films. No, not those jittery 8mm “and that’s how tires are made” movies they showed us in high school when the instructor wanted to have a smoke in the teacher’s lounge.
Cleese’s work is always amusing. More than any of the other Python cast members, his dry, almost-haughty demeanor seems to me to capture the spirit of Britain. He clings fiercely to his dignity as everyone else around him erupts in lunacy.
The Wine for the Confused DVD arrived in my mailbox a couple of days ago, and I couldn’t wait to pop it in the player. It begins with grainy footage of a group of people dressed in togas and grape-wreath headgear swilling wine Bacchus-style with a cheesy narration about wine being the cornerstone of civilization. (Which took me right back to a stuffy high school social studies classroom and a teacher sneaking in the back door with yellow fingers and a wearing a tobacco-scented corduroy blazer.)
Cleese immediately dispenses with all that rot and declares that this film is all about debunking the myths that have arisen around wine. He starts by saying “Isn’t it a shame that this wonderful stuff – wine – can be a source of one human being feeling inferior or superior to another?” He makes a pompous face “I like big, in-your-face, tannic reds and that makes me a superior and special kind of person.” He then goes on to state that the only purpose of this wonderful stuff is to give us enjoyment.
A man after my own heart. When I started writing Wine Chat more than a year ago, my stated purpose was to try and avoid the snobbery and elitism that has grown up around wine in this country. I believe, as does Cleese, that many, many people who would be willing to experiment with wine are put off by the puffed-up people – experts – who purport to tell us what we should and shouldn’t like. And he makes that point early in the film. “I’m fed up with being frightened about wine,” he says. He also tells us to not let anyone tell us what wine you should like. Everyone has individual tastes, and we should honor that.
The movie goes on to give a basic course in how wine is made. Cleese travels to the Santa Ynez Valley to talk with winemakers and tasting room people to unravel the mysteries of the grape, all the while displaying an honest love for wine and his trademark good humor.
One story I found fascinating was how he first came to love chardonnay. During the filming of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, he claims that chardonnay saved his life. Shot on location in Northern Scotland during a particularly dreadful (and boring) winter, he discovered a café that served French White Burgundy, a wine made from the chardonnay grape. “That wine persuaded me to continue shooting the film instead of shooting myself,” he deadpans.
Throughout, Cleese weaves a search for words that describe the characteristics that people find appealing about wine. He hosts a wine tasting party at his home and encourages those present to develop language that they can use to relate to others what they like in wine, to better steer people to wines that they will enjoy.
As a film, it contains nowhere near the laughs of a good Monty Python skit, but John Cleese does an admirable job of bringing wine and wine culture down to earth. And he does so in an entertaining, non-threatening way. Wine Chat rating: two grape-stained thumbs up.
Michael Chatfield is a freelance writer and musician. He lives in Hollister.
