THE GREATEST SHOWMAN: 4K Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 2017) Fox Home Video
Director Michael
Gracey calls out the specter of a Baz Luhrmann musical in The Greatest Showman (2017) – a film that reports to be about the
early life and times of P.T. Barnum. Ultimately, its more ‘show’ than ‘tell’ or even
‘history’ for that matter, and evolves into precisely the sort of gaudy,
slightly bawdy, and rhythmically pulsating razzamatazz that could make even the
likes of Florenz Ziegfeld blush. While the general consensus today has cleared
Barnum’s reputation of the oft misquoted line, “There’s a sucker born every minute”, Gracey and his menagerie of
oddities do their best – quite often, to succeed – at flimflamming the rest of
us into believing in this colorful claptrap. The screenplay by Jenny Bicks and
Bill Condon is slight. But that’s okay, because The Greatest Showman is more about retaining an air of resplendent
period, imbued with an ebullient message of toe-tapping hope (the trademarked ‘feel good’ all musicals should have),
and, contemporized by its bass-pounding Benj Pasek/Justin Paul score, that
includes the Oscar-nominated, ‘This is
Me’ – an anthem to the most unique of humanity’s forgotten, brought into
the spotlight by Barnum’s vision quest for ‘the
greatest show on earth’…not yet – actually.
Two prejudices
to set aside before embarking on the excursion: first, this isn’t the story of
Barnum’s life, but a gorgeously lit and sumptuously photographed pop opera a la
Andrew Lloyd Webber, and second, its only vague resemblance to history is to be
found in Nathan Crowley’s spectacular production design. Do we really need to
know there was no great love affair between Jenny Lind and P.T. Barnum (just
one of the fanciful departures from truth in the movie), or that Charity,
Barnum’s wife, was more careworn frump, raising three daughters (a fourth died
tragically) largely on her own while P.T. was galivanting across the continent
with his show of shows? Is it necessary to point out Barnum had about as much
sex appeal as a nudie of Lyle Lovett or that Lind, mousy and plump, could
nevertheless make grown men weep genuine tears solely on the power and emotion
caught in her tender voice? Probably not. Artistic license in movies stands for
something, as does suspension of disbelief. We used to go to the movies to
escape reality, not to rediscover it, unattractive and festering, like a boil upon
our collective psyche, never to be properly lanced. For the most part, movies
today are the antithesis of escapism, rubbing our noses in the complexities and
vile atrocities of humanity’s mad inhuman noise. Personally, I hate that, which
is probably why I absolutely adored The
Greatest Showman.
The picture also
benefits immensely from the behind-the-scenes contributions of art director,
Laura Ballinger, and, costumer Ellen Mirojnick, Seamus McGarvey’s beautifully
composed cinematography and, last – though certainly not least, Ashley Wallen’s
thoroughly inventive choreography, occasionally diluted by the verve in
Gracey’s swirling camerawork, prone to artistically clever and frequent
cutaways. Can we just get a director who understands a real dancer caught in
his art can be photographed in full
figure and still captivate the
audience?!? But I digress. Personally, I don’t mind the parity between Luhrmann
and Gracey, especially since The
Greatest Showman’s Ashley Wallen also happened to be a dancer on Luhrmann’s
best movie to date – Moulin Rouge
(2001). The exuberance, athleticism and balletics featured in tandem in
Wallen’s dance routines cannot be understated. The Aussie-born Wallen, whose
resumé includes choreographic work for Kylie Minogue and Mariah Carey, a flash
mob for Oprah, and, West End and Broadway productions of Ghost - the Musical, is
precisely the sort of terpsichorean zeitgeist to helm such an elephantine ode
to one of the most shameless self-promoters of all time. Imagine: a director of
a contemporary Hollywood musical who actually thinks dance routines are
important!
The Greatest Showman could have been better. That said,
it’s still pretty good and fairly entertaining to boot; Gracey, convinced the
old-fashioned-ness of the genre and his subject matter are best served by a lot
of frenetic and bouncy tunes. One of the few artistic misfires The Greatest Showman makes is to ignore
the basic structure of the traditional movie musical soundtrack. As such, there
are no ‘slow songs’ in the picture –
not even orchestral respites between the ballyhoo and hoopla of this three-ring
circus within a circus. Even the one pseudo-love ballad, ‘A Million Dreams’ – a ‘traveling song’ - quickly takes off from its
soulful introspection between the tender-hearted, Barnum (Ellis Rubin as a
child/singing voice dubbed by Ziv Zaifman) and his prepubescent paramour,
Charity (Skylar Dunn); the pair matured, in the blink of an eye, into Hugh
Jackman and Michelle Williams, thrust into a fanciful recreation of moonlit
rooftops where even the pristine white sheets dangling from clothes lines are
suddenly stirred in unison to compliment the choreography; Jackman tossing
Williams about, saving her from aspired leaps over the edge, and finally,
caught in a clinch, the camera pulling back to reveal Charity’s first
pregnancy.
The concision
with which Gracey jump-cuts from awkward and occasionally heart-breaking
adolescence into the adult world of woe nevertheless retains its air of whimsy,
and this is a good thing. I have read
far too many critical reviews about The
Greatest Showman, damning its stylized ‘sweetness
and light’ as a ‘showy and confused
big hunk of nothing’ when in reality it is Gracey’s optimistic outlook that
achieves the sort of big and splashy reminiscence of an old MGM musical,
teeming with gloss and gigantism a la a producer like Arthur Freed or Joe
Pasternak in their heyday. Perhaps too many of these self-appointed mandarins
of film critique, having fallen all over themselves in their idiotic praise of
Damien Chazelle’s La La Land (2016)
– a movie painfully unworthy of the hype it received – were as rife now to pull
out their axes and perform a hatchet job on Gracey’s grace note and homage to
P.T. But at the very least, Hugh Jackman can carry a note. Ryan Gosling cannot.
And Jackman, one of the most diverse talents of his generation, has infinitely
more screen presence and talent suited to the Hollywood musical to recommend
him. Sporting the testosterone-pulsating manliness of a Gene Kelly and the finesse
of the ever-elegant, Fred Astaire, Jackman lends this incarnation of Barnum both
his own sex appeal and class. Having seen pictures of the actual P.T. Barnum, let’s
just be kind herein and state for the record, the guy was no oil painting!
The other
noteworthy from the cast is Zac Efron, whose big break in 2006’s High School Musical ought to have
instantly reserved him a place in the pantheon as any director’s A-list ‘for
hot musical talent. Alas, in the interim we have seen far too little of Efron’s
innate gifts as a truly blessed singer/dancer; relegated instead to an endless
potpourri of syrupy and prepubescent tripe (Rodney St. Cloud, 2010), the fleeting ‘serious role’ (The Paperboy,
2012) and occasional, out and out flop: Baywatch
(2017) – anyone?!? Nevertheless, it is gratifying to see Efron having migrated
beyond that rather goony and effete ‘teen
pretty boy’ persona cultivated in High
School Musical and its two nauseating sequels. Muscling up and turning 30
helps. But The Greatest Showman really
doesn’t give Efron, cast as wealthy playwright, Phillip Carlyle (a character
very loosely based on James Anthony Bailey), a whole lot of screen time or the
chance to show his stuff as a singer, although he acquits himself rather spectacularly
of a competition-styled bar room dance with Jackman (swapping shots and a few
taps to ‘The Other Side’) and a
spirited bungee cord pas deux with the luscious Zendaya (as trapeze artist, Anne
Wheeler).
It is a little
disheartening to see a star as gifted as Michelle Williams play third wheel to
the Jackman/Efron bro-mantic chemistry that dominates most of this show,
perhaps even blunting the impact P.T.’s affair with Euro-chanteuse, Jenny Lind
and certainly diluting the racially complicated ardor between Carlyle and
Wheeler. Of the oddities Barnum manages to bring together in record time, few
are afforded enough screen time to distinguish themselves; Sam Humphrey’s
midget, Charles Stratton – a.k.a. Gen. Tom Thumb, and Keala Settle’s bearded
lady, Lettie Lutz about the brightest of the lot. Contemporary Hollywood’s underlying
agenda to promote cultural diversity is again on full display. For once,
however, it suits the story, even if the challenges of conquering social
prejudices and racism are predictably met with reviled outcries from a rather
hapless and homogenized mob of ‘white-faced’ ugly Americans, who cast
penetrating glances and condescending catcalls from the alley ways and cheap
seats. It is, in fact, one of The
Greatest Showman’s painful revelation to discover P.T. among the grey fringe
of these hypocrites, refusing his ‘freaks’ access to an elegant soiree where
his latest find, Euro-singing sensation, Jenny Lind (Rebecca Ferguson/singing
voice, Loren Allred) is holding court amidst some stuffy admirers. And this,
after they have already met and thoroughly charmed Queen Victoria (played with
ineffectual aplomb by Gayle Rankin).
The Greatest Showman inexplicably opens with a double-dip
of the 2oth Century-Fox trademark: first, the 1950’s Cinemascope version to be
immediately followed by its contemporary rendering, then, delayed opening
credits interpolated with Jackman’s Barnum performing ‘The Greatest Show’ amidst a swirling menagerie of his oddities in
accompaniment to the exuberant cheers of a captivated audience. Suddenly, the
lights flicker, the applause dims and our ‘showman’ is swallowed up in darkness.
We fade up on a prepubescent, Barnum peering through the window of a local
tailor’s shop; his father, Philo (Will Swenson), nervously emerging with
fabrics from which to make his latest clothes for uber-wealthy, Mr. Hallett
(Frederic Lehne). Alas, the fitting does not go as planned when young Barnum
makes Hallett’s daughter, Charity laugh, causing her to spill tea down the
front of her dress. Attempting to discipline his child, Hallett turns his wrath
upon P.T. after the boy confesses to the amusement, slapping Barnum hard across
the face and warning for him to ‘stay
away’ from his daughter.
A short while
later, Charity finds her way to the beach where Barnum is convalescing. The two
are obviously devoted to each other. We TripTik through Barnum’s unhappy
childhood; suffering the devastating loss of his father, cast into the streets
as one of the nameless urchins, attempting to steal a loaf of bread only to be
restrained by the baker, but then, offered a solitary apple from a deformed
peddler. Heeding the ‘go west’ call of the railway, Barnum grows into maturity
while Charity is away at school. Upon earning enough money to offer her his
hand in marriage, Charity’s acceptance is met by her father’s perversely bitter
skepticism. ‘She’ll be back when the
money runs out!’ Hallett promises Barnum. But Hallett has underestimated his daughter’s
resolve; also, her genuine love for P.T. Although the two are poor in funds,
they remain richly devoted to each other. Charity gives birth to two daughters,
Helen (Cameron Seely) and Caroline (Austyn Johnson). Barnum, a devoted husband
and father is frequently ashamed he is unable to provide luxuries for his
family, promising one day to fulfill all of their dreams. Inspired to succeed,
he forges a document from his former place of employment and uses the bond as
collateral to open his first museum in the heart of the city. Alas, the stuffed
exhibits do not bring in the crowds as planned; Barnum’s daughters providing
the spark of ingenuity by suggesting to their father he needs ‘live acts’ to
make his venture a success.
Concurring with
their assessment, Barnum decides to establish a museum devoted to living human
oddities and begins placing ads everywhere to encourage ‘unique persons’ to apply for a job with his fledgling organization.
This leads him to the discovery of the forlorn Tom Thumb, hiding in his room,
and the ashamed Lettie Lutz, resigned behind a curtain to conceal her bearded
visage as a washer woman. Again, we flip through a picture book of Barnum’s
human acquisitions; conjoined twins, Chang (Yusaku Komori) and Eng (Danial Son);
strong man (Timothy Hughes), the Human Cannonball (Kenneth Chan) and Dog Boy
(Luciano Acuna Jr.) among the lot. Barnum also hires acrobats, W.D. Wheeler (Yahya
Abdul-Mateen II) and his sister, Anne, whose only oddity appears to be they are
black and talented. While Barnum’s reputation for putting on a ‘freak show’ like none other quickly
captures the interest of the masses, it earns the scorn of noted journalist,
James Gordon Bennett (Paul Sparks); his publications simultaneously heightening
the public’s curiosity in the show, but also inciting mob protests at the stage
door of Barnum’s theater. Desperate to earn ‘legitimate’ recognition as a
showman par excellence, Barnum approaches successful playwright, Philip Carlyle
at a social gathering. A playboy born to privilege with a penchant for
mischief, Carlyle resists Barnum’s invitation to join his act; that is, until
he meets and becomes instantly smitten with Anne. She is unimpressed by his ‘interest’,
perceiving it as fleeting and predicated on a curiosity for the exoticism of
bedding a black woman. Carlyle finagles an invitation for Barnum with Queen
Victoria; the English court agog when the showman arrives at Buckingham Palace
with his entire troupe of performers who nevertheless earn the Queen’s hearty
respect after Tom Thumb breaks precedence by speaking to Her Majesty frankly.
At a
post-reception, Barnum is introduced to singer, Jenny Lind. And although he has
never heard her perform, Barnum allows Lind’s reputation to precede her. With
great aplomb he offers to introduce her to New York society; Lind, becoming
intrigued by his chutzpah and confidence. Lind agrees to cross the Atlantic.
Barnum rents the opera theater and debuts his latest discovery. Lind is a
sensation and Barnum finally gains the respect of New York’s upper crust. Alas,
he badly flubs this advantage when Charity’s estranged parents (her mother
played by Kathryn Meisle) arrive at Lind’s post-debut gala. Mr. Hallett
attempts a half-hearted reconciliation with his son-in-law, but is chastised by
Barnum, whom he then refers to as still ‘only
a tailor’s son’. Barely able to contain his disgust for them, Barnum orders
the Halletts to withdraw. They do, and Charity is marginally ashamed for her
husband. After all he has achieved, he still craves acceptance from those who,
ostensibly, matter the least. Charity remind P.T. that the most important love
he can ever attain he already possesses in spades: hers and their daughters.
Sadly, it isn’t
enough and Barnum, now more determined than ever to become a household name,
revered for the ages, chooses to accompany Lind on a world tour, leaving his
family behind and his ‘freak show’ – newly rechristened as ‘the circus’ – to be
managed and M.C.’ed by Carlyle. The crowds continue to come and see the show.
Carlyle professes his love to Anne who reluctantly falls under its spell. The
lovers attend the opera. But their arrival is admonished by Carlyle’s parents
(Byron Jennings and Betsy Aidem) who cannot understand why their son would wish
to associate with ‘the other’, not of his race or class. Mr. Carlyle threatens
to cut off his son’s inheritance to which Philip forewarns he will never back
down in his love for Anne. She, however, is untrusting of its fidelity and
withdraws from the affair. At the same instance, the mob of protestors breaks
into the theater after the show, attacking the oddities and setting fire to all
that Barnum has built on the very night P.T. is returning home prematurely from
the tour - but without Lind. Earlier, Lind had laid all her cards on the table,
professing love to Barnum – unrequited and thus, almost instantly turning her
heart to stone. Giving reporters something scandalous to print, a picture of
the two kissing on stage, Lind steps aside, allowing the fallout to inflict its
casualties on Barnum’s marriage.
Reading of the
‘affair’ in the local paper, Charity leaves Barnum, taking their daughters back
to her parent’s home. Dismayed by the loss of his theater and ruination of his
marriage, Barnum is encouraged by his roster of oddities to rebuild his show.
At first, stumped how to re-finance a new super-structure to house the act,
Barnum eventually lights on the inspired idea of substituting a tent for the
conventional brick and mortar location. A traveling show pays no taxes. All it
needs is a vacant lot to turn on the magic. Imbued with renewed optimism,
Barnum arrives at the Hallett’s mansion to collect his wife and daughters.
Begging Charity’s forgiveness and vowing to spend more time with his family,
Charity accepts and Barnum debuts his new ‘big top’ extravaganza, passing along
the ring master’s responsibilities to Carlyle in the final moments. Carlyle,
who almost died in the fire, but recovered to earn Anne renewed respect and
love, now proudly leads the glittering and gaudy processional of oddities, acts
and animals through a celebratory pantheon of color and lights.
The Greatest Showman may have absolutely nothing – or
very little – to do with history. In point of fact, those misguidedly seeking a
biographical account of Barnum, the champion abolitionist with a political
streak, much later to be fulfilled, should take their daily dose of truth
elsewhere. The Greatest Showman isn’t
interested in truth outside of a thumbnail sketch. Thus, it remains long on
spectacle and the inherent goodness of one man who brought immense joy to the
lives of so many through his visionary traveling circus. Pundits poo-pooing the picture’s
sentimentality as abysmal treacle, appealing only to the lowest common denominator,
have sorely forgotten that man (and woman) cannot survive on intellectual
stimulation alone. Reality is very depressing, folks. The movies are – or
rather, should be – and used to be,
about extolling the immensity of the human spirit, about discovering the strength
in human folly and sacrifice, and, recognizing it via an artistic parable to
puncture the balloons of hypocrisy and sham, elevating our souls and making us
glad to be a part of life’s ever-evolving cavalcade. Forget about labeling The Greatest Showman as a biopic. It is
a pleasure to watch any movie – though,
this one in particular – that can call upon just enough of our intelligence to
make us realize the pursuit of art for art’s sake has merit too, and possibly,
for the betterment of our collective wellness as we exit the theater humming
the songs, remembering the moments, and filling our hearts – as well as our
minds – with the gladness that comes when we have been royally entertained for
just an hour or two. If there is a sucker born every minute, The Greatest Showman likely suggests it
is those among us, too-too loftily corrupted by their own intellect to identify
the strength in sentiment, because its’ beauty is something they will never grasp.
Poor, poor devils.
Nothing poor or
uninviting about The Greatest Showman
in 4K – a miracle of Blu-ray mastering, in fact.
Digitally photographed and finished in native 4K, this disc really shows
off cinematographer, Seamus McGarvey’s…well…showy visuals to their best
advantage, in a fully saturated, glossy/gaudy spectrum of colors, and, the
interplay of almost chiaroscuro lighting contrasted in darker night scenes.
Close-ups reveal so much about the actors, skin and dimpled imperfections, one
wonders whether or not the precision of hi-def photography has perhaps gone a
shay too far. I saw a pimple, albeit painted in heavy concealer, on Zac Efron’s
chin. Everything about The Greatest Showman’s
4K transfer sparkles. Detail levels are uniformly excellent. CGI backgrounds stand
in relief from the actual sets and occasionally look softer than the rest, I
suspect, in an attempt to hide the seams where reality drops off and the clever
matte work of a digital artist has kicked in. There is virtually nothing to
complain about here, so we won’t. Moving on to the DTS 7.1 audio, it is as
perfect as the picture, providing an immersive
aural experience that will surely impress in its ample ambience, craftily spread
throughout all channels, though ever so delicately nuanced in the sides and
rears. It goes without saying, dialogue is crisp and clean while the score,
sporting an impressive bass, thunders across the proscenium with all the energy
of a raging tiger let loose from its cage.
Most of the extras
are contained on the standard Blu-ray only (also included). We get a thorough
audio commentary from Michael Gracey. At 1hr. 10min. The Songs is by far the
most comprehensive examination of any film score I have ever witnessed for any
home video release. We also get The Family Behind The Greatest Showman,
14 min. of interviews with cast and crew; a half-hour featurette on The
Spectacle, extensive galleries containing copious art work and
storyboards, a ‘Music Machine/Sing Along’ option. Finally, there are several
theatrical trailers. Bottom line: While The
Greatest Showman is grotesquely inaccurate to the truth of Barnum’s life,
it remains a superb, if occasionally formulaic rags-to-riches love affair with
the trappings of the circus. So, sit back and prepare to be dazzled – and yes,
entertained: precepts and achievements P.T. himself would undoubtedly have
approved. Yes – this is the greatest
show!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
5+
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