This much I know: Eric Idle
The actor and composer, 66, on crying at the drop of a hat, being mistaken for Gene Wilder, and the secret of a good marriage.
I like being a foreigner. For me to live in California is very pleasant – I'm more comfortable not feeling a part of everything, not feeling responsible for the government or the roads or the health system.
It's such fun to take a lot of people and create something silly. I thought it would be funny to do Not the Messiah, a version of Handel's Messiah that's basically a musical version of Life of Brian. It premiered in 2007 at the Luminato festival in Toronto, and now it's a juggernaut – we have 240 musicians on stage when it's performed.
The Python team did a Q&A in New York for the 40th anniversary last year and it was nice to look around and think: "Gosh, these people are really funny."
The dreadful thing about getting older is you cry at the drop of a hat. I used to make fun of Richard Attenborough for crying. Now I'm turning into him. I can't remember anybody's names, so I call everybody "darling" and I cry all the time.
I love stage work. The thing about plays is that they're perfectible. With film, you shoot that take and maybe another. During Spamalot I rewrote Act II three times.
As a writer, I swim. That's what keeps my shoulders from aching all day.
The secret of a good marriage is separate rooms. I've been with my current wife for 33 years and I can tell you that it works. I don't mean not having sex – you can shag anywhere. I think Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own applies to all human beings at all stages.
When people say they want a Monty Python reunion, what they really want is to feel young again. We haven't worked together since 1982; Graham [Chapman] isn't alive. I don't honestly think there's anything to be done, except perhaps a series of dinners.
I can be very angry and acerbic. Therapy is really useful. It gives me a triangulation on myself: "I was this asshole the other day; why did I do that?"
I get mistaken for Gene Wilder, particularly in France. I now claim to be him in France because I find I get treated very well.
I was once mistaken for Brian Jones, the Rolling Stones guitarist. I said to the guy: "But he's been dead for 10 years." He said, "No, no – you're definitely Brian Jones."