Does the sublime silliness of "Monty Python's Flying Circus" really need any introduction at this point? Suffice to say, if you're unfamiliar with this British sextet and their surreal brand of humor, you'd do well to check out other, more well-known Python efforts, such as Monty Python & The Holy Grail, The Life of Brian or even And Now For Something Completely Different. Diving into the old Python TV shows requires either a wallet able to withstand the price of the recently re-released 16 Ton Megaset or close proximity to BBC America.

While A&E's constant repackaging of Monty Python (again evidenced by the recent mega-set as well as these "Personal Best" discs) is bordering on annoying, it makes a certain sense: with "Spamalot" racking up big box office on Broadway, there's an appetite in the marketplace for those newly converted Python fanatics – so quoth the DVD cover: "For the Python lover, they're (the 'Personal Best' series) concentrated joy. For the novice, a dangerously addictive substance to administered with care."

Split between the six (well, five surviving – Graham Chapman died in 1989) Python members, each disc contains a smattering of new footage that holds together what's being billed as each Python's own favorite moments from the audacious Seventies BBC TV show. Terry Gilliam's Personal Best contains 45 animated sequences; as the lone American and primary animator, Gilliam's whacked sense of humor held together the oddball bits and sketches, serving as the perfect non sequitur segue. Many of the most coveted clips are here, including "Conrad Poohs and His Dancing Teeth," "The Killer Cars," "Venus Dancing," "Garden of Hands," "Crelm Toothpaste," the series' original opening titles, "Baby Carriage," "Full Frontal Nudity," "The House-Hunters" and many, many more. It's a wild blast of off-the-wall humor that is surprisingly potent and highly recommended for Python nuts.

The Video:

Presented as originally aired in 1.33:1 fullscreen, Terry Gilliam's Personal Best looks about as well as expected – softness, slight print damage and grain abounds, but as the DVD case helpfully points out: "The imperfections of the original analog Monty Python shows have been analyzed and painstakingly reproduced as digital imperfections."

Again, as originally aired, these collections are offered in Dolby 2.0 stereo, sounding very clean and clear but the occasional Python tendency towards gibberish makes one wish for English subtitles. Otherwise, it's an unmuddled track that does these bits justice.

In lieu of a Gilliam yack-track, "Terry Gilliam's Featurette" runs 13 minutes and covers most any information you'd care to know – most of what Gilliam imparts in this laid-back, low-key vignette is old hat for Python fanatics, but it's great that A&E included it. A biography for Gilliam as well as a trivia game, penned by Kim "Howard" Johnson is included.

Put simply, if you don't own a scrap of Monty Python, you could do worse than having this disc in your home. Fans of the comedic collective likely have this material elsewhere so, despite the scant new footage, it's hard to unequivocally recommend picking this up. I'll split the difference and urge everyone to at least give Terry Gilliam's Personal Best a cursory spin. Recommended.