Its colour reminds one of lightly tanned Caucasian flesh, or putty. Its foundation is teak, stained luxuriously. Its body is segmented, much in the way of certain insects, or most couches. In fact, it resembles in many ways a small modular love seat, or a praying mantis. On its upper extremities rests a modest matching pillow, rectangular and leather-enclosed, awaiting a human head. It is a comfortable-seeming thing, flexible without being adjustable, giving without being pliant.

"This is the chair," Eric Idle said. Almost two years ago, on a bright October day in Los Angeles, Idle stood above the chair, looking down on it. The chair was empty because Idle was standing.

"Yes, this is the one," Idle reiterated. This was the chair in which the first pages, and the pages in the middle, and, later on, the last pages of Spamalot, the musical-comedy adaptation of the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, were written. Above both Idle and the chair, questions hovered. Was Idle anxious? Nervous? Sick to his stomach? After all, in a few days he would fly to New York, where rehearsals of Spamalot - an $11m (£6m) production starring Hank Azaria (of The Simpsons and Huff), Tim Curry (of The Rocky Horror Picture Show) and David Hyde Pierce (the Emmy-winning co-star of Frasier) - were to begin, under the guidance of Mike Nichols, director of The Graduate and winner of Tonys, Oscars and Emmys. Was Idle wishing he were working with a more experienced cast, a more seasoned director? The musical would begin previews in Chicago on December 21, and move to Broadway in February. That much was certain. But the unknowns persisted. Would Broadway audiences take to the Pythons' particular brand of humour? Would they be able to understand all the words, if spoken with accents - one of them French? And, perhaps most important: could a low-budget film, wherein King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table pretend to ride horses with the aid of pages knocking coconuts together, be adap...