As for my 'drunken-frat boy' comment, I refer you to this article from the Times on April 10, 2005 (excerpt below) "Spamalot Discovers the Straight White Way"
THE other night at the Shubert Theater, home of the freshly minted hit 'Spamalot,' there were lines everywhere. There were lines at the box office and lines at the cancellation window. There were lines at the souvenir stand and lines at the bar. There were lines upstairs, lines downstairs and lines on the stairs in between.
But there was one spot with no line whatsoever: the ladies' room.
That's because 'Spamalot,' Broadway's hottest show, drawn from the 1975 cult film 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail,' has managed to tap into a rare, highly prized Broadway demographic: men; specifically, the kinds of teenagers and 20-somethings who find jokes about fish, flatulence and the French absolutely sidesplitting and who normally wouldn't be headed to the theater unless dragged by a girlfriend, school trip or court order.
'They are what the movie preview experts call young males under 35,' said Mike Nichols, who directed 'Spamalot.' 'And we have them.'
Indeed, 'Spamalot' may have created an entirely new breed of raving musical theater fan, one who has probably never heard of Rodgers and Hammerstein or Kander and Ebb or even -- gasp -- Stephen Sondheim, but who can quote full stretches of dialogue from 30-year-old films by British sketch-comedy troupes.
'I see guys in standing room yakking it up, hounding their girlfriends, elbowing them,' Mr. Nichols said. 'The guys actually lead it.'
Tim Curry, who plays a very silly King Arthur in the musical, confirms this, claiming to regularly see packs of young men chortling along to the show.
'They come in pockets of four or five guys from the frat, or who four or five guys who were frat brothers,' he said, sounding a bit like the narrator of a National Geographic wildlife special.
'Our whole family shouts. It comes from us livin' so close to the railroad tracks'
Updated On: 7/6/05 at 10:28 AM