Monty Python's the Meaning of Life

Part I: The Miracle of Birth

OBSTETRICIAN: That's the machine that goes 'ping'. [ping] You see? That means your baby is still alive!

The Miracle of Birth Part 2: The Third World

MR. BLACKITT: That's what being a Protestant's all about. That's why it's the church for me. That's why it's the church for anyone who respects the individual and the individual's right to decide for him or herself. When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in fifteen- seventeen, he may not have realised the full significance of what he was doing, but four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas,... [sniff] ...and, Protestantism doesn't stop at the simple condom! Oh, no! I can wear French Ticklers if I want.

MRS. BLACKITT: You what?

MR. BLACKITT: French Ticklers. Black Mambos. Crocodile Ribs. Sheaths that are designed not only to protect, but also to enhance the stimulation of sexual congress.

MRS. BLACKITT: Have you got one?

MR. BLACKITT: Have I got one? Uh, well, no, but I can go down the road any time I want and walk into Harry's and hold my head up high and say in a loud, steady voice, 'Harry, I want you to sell me a condom. In fact, today, I think I'll have a French Tickler, for I am a Protestant.'

Part II: Growth and Learning

HUMPHREY: Now, two boys have been found rubbing linseed oil into the school cormorant. Now, some of you may feel that the cormorant does not play an important part in the life of the school, but I would remind you that it was presented to us by the Corporation of the town of Sudbury to commemorate Empire Day, when we try to remember the names of all those from the Sudbury area who so gallantly gave their lives to keep China British. So, from now on, the cormorant is strictly out of bounds! Oh, and Jenkins, apparently your mother died this morning. Chaplain.

Part III: Fighting Each Other

GENERAL: Well, of course, warfare isn't all fun. Right. Stop that! It's all very well to laugh at the Military, but, when one considers the meaning of life, it is a struggle between alternative viewpoints of life itself, and without the ability to defend one's own viewpoint against other perhaps more aggressive ideologies, then reasonableness and moderation could, quite simply, disappear. That is why we'll always need an army, and may God strike me down were it to be otherwise. (God strikes him down).

SERGEANT: STOP GAWKING!!! HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN THE HAND OF GOD BEFORE?!?!?

PAKENHAM-WALSH: A tiger in Africa?!

AINSWORTH: W-- Ah, well, it, uh,-- it has probably escaped from a zoo. Mhm.

PAKENHAM-WALSH: Doesn't sound very likely to me.

Part V: Live Organ Transplants

MAN: Hello. Uhh, can we have your liver?
CHAIRMAN: ...Which brings us once again to the urgent realisation of just how much there is still left to own. Item six on the agenda: the meaning of life. Now, uh, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this.

HARRY: That's right. Yeah, I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks, and, uh, what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts. One: people are not wearing enough hats. Two: matter is energy. In the universe, there are many energy fields which we cannot normally perceive. Some energies have a spiritual source which act upon a person's soul. However, this soul does not exist ab initio, as orthodox Christianity teaches. It has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved, owing to man's unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia.

ANOTHER ATTENDEE OF THE MEETING: Can I get back to that first point of yours? What was that about the hats?

Part VI: The Autumn Years

MAITRE D: Uh, today we have, uh, for appetizers: Excuse me. Mhmm. Uh, moules marinieres, pate de foie gras, beluga caviar, eggs Benedictine, tart de poireaux-- that's leek tart,-- frogs' legs amandine, or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd-- c'est a dire, little quails' eggs on a bed of pureed mushroom. It's very delicate. Very subtle.

MR. CREOSOTE: I'll have the lot.

MAITRE D: A wise choice, monsieur. And now, how would you like it served? All, uh, mixed up togezer in a bucket?

MR. CREOSOTE: Yeah,... with the eggs on top.

Part VI B: The Meaning of Life

MARIA: Yes. I used to work in the Academie Francaise, but it didn't do me any good at all,

A-- and I once worked in the library in the Prado in Madrid, but it didn't teach me nothing, I recall. And the Library of Congress you'd have thought would hold some key, But it didn't, and neither did the Bodleian Library. In the British Museum I hoped to find some clue. I worked there from nine till six, read every volume through, But it didn't teach me nothing about life's mystery. I just kept getting older, and it got more difficult to see, Till, eventually, me eyes went and me arthritis got bad, And so now I'm cleaning up in here, but I can't be really sad, 'Cause, you see, I feel that life's a game. You sometimes win or lose, And though I may be down right now, at least I don't work for Jews.

MAITRE D: [choking] [dumps Mr. Creosotes bucket on her head] I'm so sorry. I-- I had no idea we had a-- a racist working here. I-- I-- I-- I apologise most sincerely. I mean, well, w-- W-- where are you going? Know what? I can explain, uh,-- Ehh, quel dommage.

GASTON: You know, one day, my-- my mother, she put me on her knee and she said to me, 'Gaston, my son, the world is a beautiful place. You must go into it and... love everyone, try to make everyone happy, and bring peace and contentment everywhere you go,' and so, I became a waiter. Well, it's-- it's not much of a philosophy, I know,... but, well,... fuck you. I can live my own life in my own way if I want to. Fuck off.

Part VII: Death

GOVERNOR: Arthur Charles Herbert Runcie MacAdam Jarrett, you have been convicted by twelve good persons and true... of the crime of first degree making of gratuitous, sexist jokes in a moving picture.
GRIM REAPER: Shut up! Shut up, you American. You always talk, you Americans. You talk and you talk and say 'let me tell you something' and 'I just wanna say this'. Well, you're dead now, so shut up!
GEOFFREY: Now, look here. You barge in here, quite uninvited, break glasses, and then announce, quite casually, that we're all dead. Well, I would remind you that you are a guest in this house, and-- [whock] Ah! Oh.

GRIM REAPER: Be quiet! Englishmen, you're all so fucking pompous, and none of you have got any balls.

The End of the Film

LADY PRESENTER: Well, that's the end of the film. Now, here's the meaning of life. Thank you, Brigitte. M-hmm. Well, it's nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations, and, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only way, these days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema. Family entertainment bollocks!! What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats... Where's the fun in pictures? Oh, well, there we are. Here's the theme music. Goodnight.

Monty Python's the Meaning of Life

See also