In the DC Comics movie SUICIDE SQUAD, Harley Quinn is (accurately) described as "a whole lot of pretty in a whole lot of crazy." Since Harley is also sardonically referred to as a circus performer by yet another character, it seems fitting that the above quotation also be applied to Cecil B. DeMille's 1952, uh, "masterpiece." For THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH is surprisingly postmodern, and a high-concept film gone berserk. The expression "hot mess" might as well have been coined for it.
Which is not to say that I don't like it. In fact, I venerate it! I just think that it's a classic for all the wrong reasons. As fun as this film is, frankly, DeMille should have stuck to the Biblical stuff. You often hear the cliché "This could never be made today," and while that's not quite true of this film, nowadays it would appeal less as a movie and more as a gimmicky TV special not unlike the Super Bowl. Because just like the big football game, THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH is American culture at its most self-aware and self-indulgent - a metafictional phenomenon. There's really no genre designation for it, because it's one part docudrama (with the typical pompous narrator), one part romantic comedy, one part musical (yes, there's at least one un-ironic musical number that's as absurd as anything in SINGIN' IN THE RAIN), and one part straight-up variety show, with seemingly endless performances by aerialists, trained animals, clowns, and more.
This did NOT deserve to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards, and indeed it can be argued that it did so only because its main contender, HIGH NOON, was controversially (and bizarrely) accused of being Communist propaganda. But in one particular way, maybe the outcome was for the best. Because not only is THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH almost completely free of controversy (a sort-of defense of euthanasia is as sociopolitical as the movie gets), but I am willing to overlook its many structural flaws for the simple reason that, well, it's one damned entertaining picture - a treasure trove for circus fans and one of the few "popcorn" films of the 1950s that still delivers the goods. It's also an eternally precious glimpse of an era that is not only bygone but pretty much guaranteed to be forever dead, now that the very circus it showcases is sadly defunct as of 2017.
DeMille chooses to portray the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus as semi-fictional, with dilettante Hollywood actors (not to mention their stunt doubles) performing alongside actual circus performers. The effect is slightly surreal, reminding me a bit of World Championship Wrestling's READY TO RUMBLE, which pitted the fictional "Jimmy King" against real-life professional wrestler Diamond Dallas Page. But while READY TO RUMBLE was relentlessly "zingy" in its attitude toward its subject ("WRESTLING IS NOT FAAAKE!"), the humor in THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH is not only gentle but heartfelt. I enjoy the way DeMille draws attention to the artificiality of his world by constantly cutting away from the (otherwise interminably long) in-ring sequences to either highlight the crowd's (fictional) reactions or advance the actual plot. And the fact that so, so, SO many performers made it on camera (and not just in cameos, either) also makes me laugh; one wonders if every single member of Ringling's roster got a guaranteed scene in his or her contract. That said, the movie is well over two hours long and seems even longer; I like to joke that the film's editor got paid for doing basically nothing.
Let's see, what else? A lot else, that's what! There's so much to take in here, and so much to love. You'll find a little something for everyone as the story (such as it is) rolls along: thrills and chills, zany humor, social satire, pop-culture references (some of them subtle, others like an anvil dropping onto your head), and even some mild eroticism (as quite a few of the female performers are in bikini tops, a rarity in Fifties cinema). Not to mention a thoroughly swell circus extravaganza that's still awe-inspiring even after several decades of far more ambitious Hollywood blockbusters. And certainly not least, there's a surprisingly progressive relationship depicted between the two main characters, as they are portrayed as coed athletic superstars - and rivals - as well as possible romantic partners. There's even some "girl power" inasmuch as the male trapeze artist is laid low by unfortunate circumstances, while his female counterpart eventually proves savvy enough to assume management of the entire circus!
If I had to pick the most special of my favorite scenes after having watched so many memorable ones, I'd have to choose the climactic train smash-up. Not only is it edge-of-your-seat dramatic and an opportunity to bring about the redemption of a cowardly clown who never takes off his makeup (and who is also a doctor), but there's an edgy moment of black humor when the circus owner, who's near-fatally injured in the crash, orders the animal handlers to make absolutely sure that the lions, tigers, and leopards in the menagerie stay in their smashed-apart cages, lest they grow hungry at the smell of the blood of the injured humans.
So, is THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH all that, well, great? Certainly not as a work of art; it never packs the same emotional punch as other circus movies, such as the horror film FREAKS or even Tim Burton's live-action version of DUMBO (a rare remake that, while not besting the original, does deepen the animated film's mythology in some surprising ways). THE GREATEST SHOW is as devoid of nutrients as anything purchased from the concession stands of its carnival midway. But as pure theater, DeMille's Oscar winner is as good as you could possibly hope for. I don't watch it often - but when I do, it's nothing less than a banquet!
Which is not to say that I don't like it. In fact, I venerate it! I just think that it's a classic for all the wrong reasons. As fun as this film is, frankly, DeMille should have stuck to the Biblical stuff. You often hear the cliché "This could never be made today," and while that's not quite true of this film, nowadays it would appeal less as a movie and more as a gimmicky TV special not unlike the Super Bowl. Because just like the big football game, THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH is American culture at its most self-aware and self-indulgent - a metafictional phenomenon. There's really no genre designation for it, because it's one part docudrama (with the typical pompous narrator), one part romantic comedy, one part musical (yes, there's at least one un-ironic musical number that's as absurd as anything in SINGIN' IN THE RAIN), and one part straight-up variety show, with seemingly endless performances by aerialists, trained animals, clowns, and more.
This did NOT deserve to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards, and indeed it can be argued that it did so only because its main contender, HIGH NOON, was controversially (and bizarrely) accused of being Communist propaganda. But in one particular way, maybe the outcome was for the best. Because not only is THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH almost completely free of controversy (a sort-of defense of euthanasia is as sociopolitical as the movie gets), but I am willing to overlook its many structural flaws for the simple reason that, well, it's one damned entertaining picture - a treasure trove for circus fans and one of the few "popcorn" films of the 1950s that still delivers the goods. It's also an eternally precious glimpse of an era that is not only bygone but pretty much guaranteed to be forever dead, now that the very circus it showcases is sadly defunct as of 2017.
DeMille chooses to portray the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus as semi-fictional, with dilettante Hollywood actors (not to mention their stunt doubles) performing alongside actual circus performers. The effect is slightly surreal, reminding me a bit of World Championship Wrestling's READY TO RUMBLE, which pitted the fictional "Jimmy King" against real-life professional wrestler Diamond Dallas Page. But while READY TO RUMBLE was relentlessly "zingy" in its attitude toward its subject ("WRESTLING IS NOT FAAAKE!"), the humor in THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH is not only gentle but heartfelt. I enjoy the way DeMille draws attention to the artificiality of his world by constantly cutting away from the (otherwise interminably long) in-ring sequences to either highlight the crowd's (fictional) reactions or advance the actual plot. And the fact that so, so, SO many performers made it on camera (and not just in cameos, either) also makes me laugh; one wonders if every single member of Ringling's roster got a guaranteed scene in his or her contract. That said, the movie is well over two hours long and seems even longer; I like to joke that the film's editor got paid for doing basically nothing.
Let's see, what else? A lot else, that's what! There's so much to take in here, and so much to love. You'll find a little something for everyone as the story (such as it is) rolls along: thrills and chills, zany humor, social satire, pop-culture references (some of them subtle, others like an anvil dropping onto your head), and even some mild eroticism (as quite a few of the female performers are in bikini tops, a rarity in Fifties cinema). Not to mention a thoroughly swell circus extravaganza that's still awe-inspiring even after several decades of far more ambitious Hollywood blockbusters. And certainly not least, there's a surprisingly progressive relationship depicted between the two main characters, as they are portrayed as coed athletic superstars - and rivals - as well as possible romantic partners. There's even some "girl power" inasmuch as the male trapeze artist is laid low by unfortunate circumstances, while his female counterpart eventually proves savvy enough to assume management of the entire circus!
If I had to pick the most special of my favorite scenes after having watched so many memorable ones, I'd have to choose the climactic train smash-up. Not only is it edge-of-your-seat dramatic and an opportunity to bring about the redemption of a cowardly clown who never takes off his makeup (and who is also a doctor), but there's an edgy moment of black humor when the circus owner, who's near-fatally injured in the crash, orders the animal handlers to make absolutely sure that the lions, tigers, and leopards in the menagerie stay in their smashed-apart cages, lest they grow hungry at the smell of the blood of the injured humans.
So, is THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH all that, well, great? Certainly not as a work of art; it never packs the same emotional punch as other circus movies, such as the horror film FREAKS or even Tim Burton's live-action version of DUMBO (a rare remake that, while not besting the original, does deepen the animated film's mythology in some surprising ways). THE GREATEST SHOW is as devoid of nutrients as anything purchased from the concession stands of its carnival midway. But as pure theater, DeMille's Oscar winner is as good as you could possibly hope for. I don't watch it often - but when I do, it's nothing less than a banquet!