June 15, 2001 | The phrase “rolling in the aisles” used to strike me as the dopiest kind of empty hyperbole. But then, on a fateful afternoon more than 25 years ago, I experienced Monty Python and the Holy Grail. That’s when I discovered, while roaring like a besotted hyena, that uncontrollable convulsions of laughter really could rock you out of your seat and onto the floor. Looking back, I suppose I should be grateful that I didn’t choke on my popcorn, or prompt a swift ejection by an unamused usher.

Because I so dearly treasure the memory of that initial exposure to Holy Grail, I received word of the movie’s theatrical reissue with equal measures of delight and dread. Sure, I wanted to once again savor the sublime silliness concocted by the crackpot collective of Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones and Michael Palin. And, yes indeed, I wanted to compare their satirical take on medieval misadventures to the wildly anachronistic (but not always intentionally ridiculous) A Knight’s Tale.

But would the movie – could any movie – really be as great as I remembered?

You see, that’s the tricky thing about comedies: Many of them, even the best of them, are better remembered than reviewed. You recall the peaks, and blot out the valleys. You memorize the punchlines and the sight gags, but draw a blank while trying to describe all the stuff in between. The classic bits and pieces of sidesplitting, gut-busting hilarity are so deliciously rude and exuberantly anarchic, you tend to forget the long stretches of mildly amusing but thoroughly conventional zaniness.

To put it another way: When you hear the words Animal House, you immediately think of wild and crazy John Belushi, food fights, toga parties and up-yours rebelliousness, don't you?  But, tell the truth, it takes you considerably longer to recall any specifics of plot or character. And you don't remember the slow parts at all, right?

The good news is, there are no slow parts in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. (Well, none to speak of.) The better news is, the movie remains gloriously hysterical and spendiferously unhinged, as fresh and funny as ever.

Remember the Black Knight who refuses to stop fighting, even after losing his arms and legs? The filthy peasant who claims an accused witch turned him into a newt? (So what happened? “I got better.”) The enticing beauties who sorely tempt the determinedly chaste Sir Galahad (who isn’t entirely averse to a fall from grace)? The killer rabbit that feasts on humans? The horsemen who lack horses? (They must make do with clunking-coconut sound effects.) The incredibly ill-mannered Frenchmen? The Trojan Bunny? They’re all still here, all still uproarious. But wait, there’s more: The inquisitive police investigators, the Camelot kick-dance chorus line and – of course! – The Knights Who Say “Ni!”

If you’ve seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail before, but not lately, you may be amazed at how well the whole thing holds up. And if you’ve never seen it, well, don’t be a blinkered twit. Even if you’re sick to death of hearing so much about it from its most devoted fans, you will laugh until you’re thoroughly ashamed of yourself. See you in the aisles.