THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH (Paramount, 1952) Paramount Home Video
BEST PICTURE -
1952
“A man is no better than what he leaves behind.” – Cecil B.
DeMille
If this is the
case, then Cecil B. DeMille’s legacy is likely to remain a monument to our
cinema culture for all time. Without question, he was a resplendent showman who
ushered in the 20th century’s greatest form a mass media, helped proliferate
its iconography and endear it to several generations of movie goers – future
film-makers and starry-eyed daydreamers alike – and one of the few undisputed
giants in an industry dominated by such larger-than-life names. As a storyteller, DeMille’s philosophies were
quaintly ‘out of fashion’ even in his
own time. But his particular brand of corn was never insincere, his pomp never
telescopically focused on the thumping of his own chest. His precision on the
screen remains peerless and spellbinding. Yet, at the heart of DeMille’s
film-making philosophy there exists an intimate vision, as formidably enriching
as it continues to proliferate the globe as irrefutable populist entertainment.
Only DeMille, it
seems, could give us a circus, bigger and more alluring on the screen than an
opening night thrill of being under the actual big top via Barnum and Bailey.
And only DeMille had grasped the art of making movies to call out such
spectacle within a series of intimately concocted stories, buffered by a
glittering all-star cast. The Greatest
Show on Earth (1952) is quite simply that – and, a whole lot more. By 1950,
DeMille could have rested easy, knowing he had helped shape picture-making
artistry with millions; also, that his legacy as a picture maker had made him
one of the most easily identifiable figures in the industry; in fact, the
epitome of everyone’s idea of what a film director ought to be. Better still,
especially since DeMille wanted to continue making movies, his sixty-eight
feature films to date had grossed more than $600 million in 1950 dollars (or
roughly $12 billion by today’s inflated standards), selling 1.66 billion
tickets in the continental U.S. alone and another 1.44 billion worldwide. With
very few exceptions, DeMille’s reputation had been built on historical and
Bible-based screen spectacles. Thus, when he pitched the idea for a wholly contemporary
story with a circus motif, even Paramount’s executive brain trust was left
scratching their heads. They wanted more of the same from him. Had the old
master flipped his nut?
Few knew just
how dear the idea of a splashy, big-top drama was to DeMille. Based on Courtney
Ryley-Cooper’s 1923 novel, Under The Big
Top, DeMille had carried something of the sawdust, spangles and dreams of a
carney ringmaster with him into those burgeoning Hollywood hills in an era even
before the name was yet synonymous with glamour, glitz and movie stars.
Ironically, it was a rival interest from David O. Selznick that prompted
DeMille to further pursue his lifelong dream to make The Greatest Show on Earth. Selznick had endeavored to do just such
a picture, using Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey as his backdrop. Then
president, John Ringling North wanted fifty percent profit-sharing to seal this
deal; too rich for Selznick’s blood. He balked and DeMille stepped into the
negotiations, employing his wit and wiles to gain Ringling North’s trust; North’s
fifty-percent profit-sharing willingly granted, but only after the movie had
twice recouped its negative cost. For this, DeMille was virtually handed absolute
control of the circus, allowed to go on tour with the show for three months and
film anything and everywhere his heart desired. Carte blanche had rarely been
afforded any film director on location. Then again, Cecil B. DeMille was not
just any director.
Only one thing
worried DeMille: shooting on location. Like all showman of a certain vintage, DeMille
felt most at home within the comfort and confines of his beloved Paramount
Studios. Not only did it offer him absolute creative control, but also the
immediate facilities necessary to make any sort of miracle on his ‘things to do’ list come to life at a
moment’s notice. Location work, with its unanticipated weather conditions, its
fluctuating light sources, and, its inevitable configuration of unexpected
delays, to say nothing of preparing his own caravan of bulky camera equipment,
cast and crew, dressing rooms and other paraphernalia, to be carted all across
the country, set up and repeatedly torn down just like the circus itself, meant
more time and money necessary to bring the whole enterprise together on time
and under budget. DeMille’s anxiety was marginally quelled by his new alliance
with Technicolor and the promise of a more light-sensitive film stock being
developed to capture all the richness of his own magniloquence. DeMille’s
initial template for constructing the action had been Edmund Goulding’s Grand Hotel (1932); a film he held in
very high esteem. Alas, its framework proved unworkable within the copious
research already gathered during nearly three months of lumping it with the
circus on tour. $113,000 later, DeMille had distilled his research into a
manageable 3-hour movie. It dawned on the executives at Paramount the old
master was indeed gearing up for another epic – one set in the present.
“How fickle is a career?” Charlton Heston
would later muse, for he had not been DeMille’s first choice to star in The Greatest Show On Earth. DeMille
would have preferred Kirk Douglas, his asking price of $150,000 too steep to
consider. DeMille had already cast Cornel Wilde over Burt Lancaster for the
part of the egotistical aerialist, The Great Sebastian when Henry Wilcoxin – a
life-long part of DeMille’s professional entourage – suggested he screen some
footage of Charlton Heston for the pivotal role of circus manager, Brad Braden.
DeMille ran several pictures and thought ‘Chuck’ too dour to play the part. No,
it just wouldn’t work. But then came a moment of good fortune, destined to
impact and forever alter both men’s careers; Heston, unassumingly driving past
DeMille on the backlot with his trademark toothy grin, a dome of thick hair blowing
majestically from the open top of his convertible as he casually waved and
called out “Hello, C.B.!” Reportedly,
DeMille turned to his secretary, Berenice Mosk to inquire who the young
Lochinvar was. “I like the way he waved
just now,” DeMille admitted, “Let’s
get him in for a chat.”
The rest of the
cast came to the project without much delay. After getting James Stewart for a
song – the star practically pleading to make the picture at half salary –
DeMille settled on Betty Hutton as Holly, the lovesick trapeze artist. A few
years earlier, DeMille had pegged Hutton for stardom, if only she could
restrain her gregarious lung power long enough to turn in a performance.
Indeed, Hutton’s early career wielded the sort of uncontrollable and frenetic
energy that made her a curious cross between a female Bert Lahr and Ethel
Merman. Save a promising star turn in Annie
Get Your Gun (1950) the rest of her films were relatively inconsequential.
DeMille found Hutton’s energy exhausting. But he could certainly recognize her
talent. Asked if she would do the film ‘his way’, Hutton’s absolute
acquiescence to this simple request, also her confession - she had been
practicing the trapeze in anticipation of getting the part - gave DeMille
confidence he had found the right star after all.
Now, only the
part of Angel, the elephant tamer remained. It ought to have gone to Lucille
Ball. Instead it went to Gloria Grahame. DeMille was hardly pleased. He had
diligently labored to have Ball cast, particularly since she just pulled
something of a fast one by slinking out of her Columbia Studios contract
without paying for the privilege. DeMille had all but secured Ball’s
participation on The Greatest Show on
Earth when she unexpectedly arrived at his office one sunny afternoon with
Desi Arnaz on her arm to inform DeMille she was pregnant. As Ball had suffered
several miscarriages in the past, she was determined to carry this baby to full
term. An extended film shoot was decidedly out of the question as was delaying
principle photography for nine months. DeMille, who quickly discovered even he
lacked the powers of persuasion to woo his star back from the brink of her
decision, instead allowed Ball to exit his office happily, but pulling Desi
aside, he sternly muttered, “Congratulations…you’re
the only man in history to screw Lucille Ball, Columbia Pictures, Paramount
Pictures, Harry Cohn and Cecil B. DeMille all at the same time!”
Even before
principle photography began, The
Greatest Show on Earth broke new ground. Told it was impossible to
effectively light the big top for Technicolor’s requirements, DeMille ordered
an entirely new system of lighting to be devised and controlled by remote
control, its cluster formations capably diffusing and spreading light
throughout the vast and cavernous tented interiors. The picture was shot during
the circus’ down time, primarily on its camp grounds in Saratoga, Florida; a
vast playground DeMille would later describe as ‘a world in miniature’; a ‘stream
of civilization’ and a sort of ‘United
Nations on parade’. He embraced it with every fiber of his irascible being.
Back at Paramount, DeMille had already shot key dramatic scenes on sound stages,
some between Charlton Heston and Betty Hutton; also, Cornel Wilde during the
aftermath of the climactic train wreck meant to cap off the movie. Midway
through this early preparation, DeMille also gave a detailed interview to
Collier’s magazine, admitting he occasionally allowed his temper to overcome
his better judgment, particularly when he took notice of an extra playing
checkers on a set that cost Paramount $50,000 a day. “That fellow should be paying attention to his job!” DeMille added
with verve.
Typically, there
were other snags along the way. You cannot have a picture of this magnitude and
not expect at least a few setbacks. Years later, Charlton Heston would tell two
apocryphal tales, both involving the climactic train wreck sequence. Shot in
confined quarters, the script called for Heston to be semi-crushed beneath a pile
of rubble, rescued by Holly’s quick-thinking and an elephant hired to remove
heavy debris from Heston’s chest. Heston was indeed pinned beneath this weighty
wreckage. But the elephant seemingly suffered an attack of stage fright and was
preparing to go on a stampede. While cast and crew scattered to safety in all
directions, Chuck was left to await the elephant’s decision - whether or not to
trample him. In the other story, a leopard meant to escape its cage during the
deluge actually darted off in a direction unknown to its wranglers; DeMille and
the cast, again, frantic to know its whereabouts, whereupon DeMille turned in
his director’s chair to suddenly realize the elegant spotted cat had come
around from behind to see what all the fuss was about, left purring very close
to his ear.
Cribbing from
DeMille’s bountiful research, the final draft screenplay by Fredric M. Frank,
Barré Lyndon and Theodore St. John called for a murder mystery subplot
involving Buttons – the clown (James Stewart).
Buttons is on the lam, having assisted in the suicide of his terminally
ill wife. As written and eventually performed by Stewart, the character
achieved an unlikely empathy. At least thematically, it gave a contemporary
slant to MGM’s silent classic, He Who
Gets Slapped (1924); a similarly scripted tale about a scientist reduced to
the part of a circus clown. The PCA had come around to DeMille’s way of
thinking, in part because the old master possessed great persuasiveness when he
fervently believed he was right. But the Catholic League of Decency had other
ideas, rating The Greatest Show on Earth
a very solid ‘B’ – meaning it was morally objectionable in part for all
persons. DeMille was left fuming. “With
those Catholics a little euthanasia goes a long way!”
Although no one could
have known it at the time, The Greatest
Show on Earth would be DeMille’s second to last movie and his only
Oscar-winning Best Picture. As a time capsule of ‘50s super kitsch, The Greatest Show On Earth does live up
to its namesake; rather delightfully, although it remains somewhat of a stretch
to deduce exactly what Academy voters were thinking in bestowing a Best Picture
Oscar on it in a year dominated by John Huston’s Moulin Rouge, John Ford’s The
Quiet Man and Fred Zinnemann’s High
Noon. In retrospect, The Greatest
Show on Earth is a mind-boggling and overstuffed bon-bon of oddities and
legitimate circus acts, the backstage intrigues puffed out with a lot of
glitter and some genuinely harrowing moments of melodrama; also, the
unanticipated cameo appearances of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, sitting in the
audience and thoroughly fixated on the high-flying Artonys. Wherever possible,
DeMille populated his milieu with real acts; The Realles, The Fredonias,
Mroczkowski's Liberty Horses, Buzzy Potts, The Flying Concellos, The Maxellos,
amongst an overwhelming assortment, all appearing as themselves in the movie.
After a rousing
main title written by Victor Young and Ned Washington, we settle into familiar
DeMille territory; the old master paraphrasing from Courtney Ryley-Cooper’s
novel. DeMille was particularly interested in the backstage mechanics of
putting on such an elaborate travelling show, and determined his audience
should be dazzled, not only by the lavish absurdities brought to them nightly
under the big top, but equally by the herculean process by which its spectacle
is wrought. We settle into the basic conundrum facing Ringling Bros. and Barnum
& Bailey; times and tastes shifting toward other diversions and threatening
to cut the full season by half, only playing the major cities on the circuit.
Circus manager, Brad Braden (Heston) fights this decision by suggesting he has
already secured the services of the Great Sebastian (Wilde), but only if the
circus commits to a full season. Sebastian is big news, so the bosses
reluctantly agree, but only so long as this travelling menagerie stays in the
black.
Sebastian
arrives at the company’s year-round digs in Saratoga via a police escort.
Having racked up nearly a hundred dollars in violations and fines, Sebastian
is, of course, penniless. So, Brad pays out for the privilege of adding him to
the show. Almost immediately, this creates friction between Brad and Holly.
After all, with a big headliner like Sebastian on the bill, Holly is expected
to give up her plum spot in the center ring. It is a bitter pill to swallow.
Sebastian ingratiates himself to the ladies, some of whom are old news; like
elephant act, Angel (Grahame) and gum-chewing singer, Phyllis (Dorothy Lamour).
Angel and Sebastian evidently spent a weekend together in Paris; old times more
fondly recalled by him than her. On the surface, this is particularly good news
for the other half of Angel’s act, Klaus (Lyle Bettger) who misguidedly
believes he has a chance to become more than a partner to Angel in the ring.
But Angel fancies Brad who, of course, is somewhat engaged to Holly who, in
turn, will eventually fall in, then out, of love with her competition –
Sebastian. Ah, me, the foibles of flawed human romance.
Surveying the
obtuse sophistication of these intertwining lives is Buttons, the clown
(Stewart); who never appears in anything other than his ghost-white pancake and
smiling red makeup. No one considers this odd, this being the circus. But
Buttons’ made up visage is actually a disguise to mask his true identity. He is
hiding out from the police; a gifted surgeon who assisted in his terminally ill
wife’s suicide. With every town they play, Buttons faces the real possibility
of being arrested. To satisfy the production code, DeMille exploited every
opportunity to reveal Buttons’ humanity. He is kind to children, comforts his
tearful and fearful mother, gives good solid advice to the lovelorn Holly about
Brad, and vice versa to Brad and Angel, and, during the film’s climax, is
instrumental in saving a life, sacrificing his own freedom to do so. But for
now, it’s business as usual…well, almost. For behind the scenes there lurks an
insidious plot to ruin the circus from within; a mafia thug, Mr. Henderson
(Lawrence Tierney) assigning one of his stooges, Harry (John Kellogg) to steal
the circus blind while running a rigged set of games that will threaten the
good, clean reputation of its showmanship.
Learning of
Holly’s sacrifice, Sebastian offers to give up the center ring. It’s all part of
his plan to seduce Holly and Brad isn’t buying it for a moment. Besides, the
public is paying to see the star attraction. As the final decision rests with
Brad, Sebastian stays in the center ring, incurring Holly’s ire. She vows
whatever tricks Sebastian performs in the center ring she will copy from her
own spot in the first. If he does a double, she’ll do a triple. If he balances
on his head using a safety donut, she’ll do the same trick without such a
luxury. Brad is staunchly opposed to their ‘healthy’ competition. It can only
end with the two needlessly risking their lives merely to prove a stubborn and
very idiotic point. But once Holly and
Sebastian are off the ground, he is powerless to prevent their rivalry.
The first few
towns they play, this friendly competition goes off without a hitch, although
there are plenty of sweaty palms in the audience; four of them belonging to Bob
Hope and Bing Crosby in cameos while taking a respite from their popular ‘Road’
series. Alas, fate catches up to vanity; Sebastian, in daring a new stunt in
front of a live audience without the benefit of a net, or much rehearsal for
that matter, misses his grip in mid-air and plummets to the heavy sawdust.
Helped to his feet by Buttons and Brad, Sebastian is carted away in an ambulance,
the circus’ doctor (Frank Wilcox) suggesting he may never perform on the
trapeze again. In lieu of his absence, Holly is repositioned in the center
ring. After all, the show must go on. In the meanwhile, Angel makes it very
clear to Klaus she has no romantic interest in him whatsoever. Realizing he can
tweak Klaus’ jealous streak to suit his own purpose, Harry suggests Angel has
thrown him for Brad. Indeed, as Holly has since given her heart to Sebastian,
Angel has wasted no time attempting to ingratiate herself to the boss.
Sebastian
returns to the show, seemingly fully recovered. His bravado masks an unhappy
reality; that his right arm has been paralyzed in the fall. Discovering the
truth, Brad offers to keep Sebastian on. But Sebastian bears the brunt of scars
to his ego and self-worth. He would go mad if surrounded by aerial artists
while unable to partake in the pleasure and excitement of their act. Sebastian
vows to leave the show as soon as he can establish another vocation and Holly
makes it clear that when he leaves the circus, she will follow him onto
whatever adventures their lives together have in store. Buttons gets wind of
Klaus’ plan to crush Angel beneath an elephant’s hoof during a live
performance. But Brad intervenes in the nick of time, saving Angel’s life and
ordering Klaus to pack up his gear and get out of town, lest he reconsider
pressing ‘attempted murder’ charges against him.
Harry quietly
goads Klaus with a prospect to solve all their problems. As the circus train
packs up and departs for its next location, he and Klaus will perform a daring
stick-up; stealing the company’s bankroll and splitting the proceeds
fifty-fifty. Actually, Harry has no reason to do so. He is working for
Henderson. However, fueled by jealousy, Klaus is complicit and willing, and,
easily manipulated. He can be the heavy for the robbery while Harry makes off
with the loot. The two men drive out to a stretch of secluded tracks on the
outskirts of town. Harry orders Klaus to light an emergency flare; its bright
pink light seen by the conductor of the first train carrying the props and
company’s bankroll. Harry has Klaus knock out the guard with his cane before holding
up the train. Alas, the second train carrying all the acts is barreling down
the tracks at full steam and fast approaching, quite unaware the first has
stalled up ahead. Aboard also is FBI Agent Gregory (Henry Wilcoxin) who is
determined to begin interviewing every member of Brad’s entourage in search of
a killer. Brad forewarns Buttons his true identity is in jeopardy. In the
meantime, Klaus has had a change of heart. Hearing the whistle of the second
train, he elects to warn them of the inevitable derailment. Harry tries to stop
Klaus, but is knocked out in the process. Klaus turns on his high beams and
drives his convertible onto the tracks. Too late, the conductor of the second
train spots his vehicle, plowing into Klaus and then the first train at full
speed. In the resulting catastrophe, many of the animal acts are freed from
their cages, costumes and props strewn about the wreckage and all of the
performers placed in peril; some, seriously wounded. Discovering Brad under a
pile of debris, Angel’s quick thinking employs one of Klaus’ elephants to lift
the heavy rigging off his chest.
To everyone’s
horror, one of Brad’s major arteries has been punctured. He is badly
hemorrhaging and will surely die without the proper medical treatment. There is
no time to get him to a hospital. As the company’s doctor has been knocked
unconscious in the wreck, Holly relies on Buttons to save Brad’s life. As every
split-second counts, Buttons elects to sacrifice his own discovery by Agent
Gregory to save Brad’s life. A few harrowing minutes pass. Brad loses
consciousness. Ultimately, however, his life is spared. Realizing he has found
his man, Agent Gregory places Buttons under arrest. It looks as though the show
will have to fold. But Holly has other notions. Carrying on as Brad would want,
she organizes the surviving acts into an outdoor parade and later, a show
without the benefit of the big top. Brad awakens to realize not only has he
survived his ordeal, but that the greatest show on earth will endure, thanks to
his paramour’s quick thinking. The two are reconciled in an ‘all’s well that ends well’ finale.
Audiences
responded to The Greatest Show on Earth
with exuberance and enthusiasm. DeMille’s attention to detail had inevitably
paid off – handsomely. Everyone gets into the act. DeMille even cast John
Ringling North as his Master of Ceremonies, prominently featured throughout the
story. Ultimately, DeMille understood his movie had to do more than extol the
virtues and excitement of a real circus exhibition. It had to tell a story –
and hopefully, more than one. Nevertheless, his soapy behind-the-scenes
narrative gets off to a rocky start; DeMille’s obligatory introductions to the
principles is somewhat clumsily strewn between a series of atmospheric
vignettes and montages, designed to give his audience a genuine flavor for the
show within a show. In act two, it all comes together; effectively so, the cast
having established their purpose and character traits, now let loose to become
integrated into the actual background milieu of these legitimate circus acts.
There is a lot of blue screen, model and miniature work. Only some of it is
convincingly achieved. Nevertheless, DeMille insisted on authenticity. While
Cornel Wilde and Betty Hutton rarely left the ground, or were suspended merely
feet from it, each performs some daring stunt work in close up with George
Barnes’ cinematography making it appear as though they are dangling
precariously high from their trapeze. A few long shots illustrate obvious doubles
for both stars. After the picture had
been in circulation for a couple of weeks, DeMille showed Charlton Heston a
handwritten prevue card, thanking DeMille for resurrecting the magic of a night
under the big top. The comments were praiseworthy of the entire cast, but made
particular mention to DeMille’s casting of ‘that
circus manager’ who “managed to do a
splendid job and hold his own amongst the actors.” Heston would later muse, “High praise indeed. You can’t get much better than that!” Circus
movies are rare these days; their charm and allure blunted by our present-day
outlook on animals in captivity, and people performing death-defying stunts,
merely for our amusement. Like the changing times, circus pictures have come
and gone. But 63 years later, DeMille’s classic arguably remains the greatest
show on earth!
We really could
use a new image harvest for this Oscar-winning Best Picture. The Greatest Show on Earth requires a ‘from the ground up’ digital clean up and
restoration. Paramount Home Video’s DVD exhibits passable quality. Colors are
generally rich, although the first few reels suffer from a deplorable
mis-registration of its 3-strip Technicolor, resulting in unhealthy green halos
around practically everything. When the Technicolor is properly aligned the
picture pops with impressive detail and excellent contrast. A pity there are
far too many age-related artifacts present throughout, exacerbated during
dissolves and fades; rising to egregious levels during the split screen/blue
screen traveling mattes. These are grainy and full of scratches. The audio is a
big fat mono, although nicely balanced and exhibiting very little – if any -
distortion. Bottom line: it’s disappointing to see a Best Picture winner get
short shrift on DVD with no Blu-ray offering in sight. The Greatest Show
on Earth would certainly be a very technically challenging and costly
undertaking. But like all true collectors, I choose to entertain a modicum of
faith when reaching out to the executive brain trust. Hey, fellas – come back
to the circus! Come to the show! Bottom line: recommended for content. The
current transfer is middle-of-the-road acceptable.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3
EXTRAS
0
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