CIRCUS WORLD: 'region free' Blu-ray import (Samuel Bronston/Paramount, 1964) Divisa Home Video

 Sounding the death knell for the Samuel Bronston organization, director, Henry Hathaway’s Circus World (1964) proved a costly and caliginous claptrap of half-baked and thoroughly trite scenarios, slapped together with a not-so-fresh coat of paint in a vein attempt to resurrect the majesty and spectacle of Cecil B. DeMille’s Oscar-winning spectacular, The Greatest Show on Earth (1954). Problem: Bronston’s Spain-based operations were already reeling under heavy scrutiny from a much-publicized lawsuit filed by his creditor, Pierre S. du Pont, to whose company he owed a staggering $5,647,758.00 to say nothing of the $6,750,000 to Paramount and personal note of $323,191 to du Pont himself. At trial, and under oath, Bronston admitted to a company account in Switzerland, but quietly omitted he too had a ‘healthy’ personal account in a bank in Geneva. A conviction of perjury, overturned on appeal, nevertheless crippled his abilities to continue making movies, arguably, his legitimate ‘true love’. If only Circus World had performed at the box office Bronston might have salvaged both his reputation and future career ambitions. Alas, the age of the cinema spectacular was behind him. Bronston would make only 3 meager movies thereafter – all of them, forgettable: Savage Pampas (1966) with Robert Taylor, Dr. Coppelius (1966), and Fort Saganne (1984), a French film with Gérard Depardieu and Catherine Deneuve. Even more tragic, Bronston’s daydreams for another lavishly appointed epic based on the life of Isabella of Spain would never come to pass.

Star-studded, but leaden to a fault, Circus World is the kind of bloated extravaganza that might have worked a decade earlier. Alas, filling the cavernous ‘Cinerama’ vistas with enough extras to stock a third-world revolution did nothing for the box office nor, in fact, to gussy and sustain the contrived melodrama in Ben Hecht, Julian Halevy and James Edward Grant’s humdrum screenplay, inveigling John Wayne’s circus impresario, Matt Masters in a maudlin tale of severed amour with former high-wire heroine, Lily Alfredo (an over-the-hill Rita Hayworth, generally looking more frumpy than fabulous), only to angle a reconciliation with her estranged daughter, Toni (Claudia Cardinale) whom Matt has since reared with sawdust in her veins and spangles plastered across her heart. As early as 1961, Bronston beloved - screenwriter, Philip Yordan was recommending Bernard Gordon to craft another big and glossy show-of-shows. Bronston may have loved making movies. Without a doubt he reveled in being his own boss, fancying himself as the last of those old-time ‘Hollywood’ moguls a la Louis B. Mayer. Relocating to Spain had proven a particularly lucrative venue to procure Bronston’s passions in tandem. Yet, Bronston also had a touch of the Cecil B. DeMille complex in him, a thirst for titanic entertainments on a scale so utterly impressive, that only a country like Spain in the 60’s could foster their gigantism.

In Samuel Bronston we have the age-old dichotomy between a man who ‘would be king’ and a lonely Russian immigrant, desperately craving independence. Alas, by the time his gargantuan and costly epic, The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964) his golden period in Spain had suddenly come to an abrupt and unfortunate end. Only a scant three years earlier, Bronston was justly celebrated as the producer of El Cid (1961) – a ‘super production’, elephantine in scope, and, utterly spectacular.  Tragically, the overwhelming success of El Cid proved the exception, rather than the rule - as illusive, imaginary and fleeting as any mirage set upon the desert sands.  Bronston was, by 1959, considered something of a has-been in Hollywood. To date, he had produced only two successful films; And Then There Were None (1945 – based on Agatha Christies’ Ten Little Indians) and the stirring war drama, A Walk in the Sun (1945). Each went wildly over budget, forcing Bronston to sell off his shares merely to break even - an ominous prelude of things to come. Yet, for some time thereafter, Bronston’s natural showman’s ability to cordially liaise with the monied and mannered made him the most appealing and elegant of social sponges – schmoozing the wealthy as he lightened their pockets for dream projects that, as yet, he had neither the means nor the wherewithal to actually produce. To mark Samuel Bronston as a true visionary is perhaps a stretch. Though Bronston believed in the proliferation of film as art, there was nothing particularly cutting edge about his picture-making. What set him apart was his inexhaustible optimism and insatiable consistency for regenerating ideas into feasible projects.

In hindsight, Samuel Bronston and his adopted country – Spain – were a perfect fit. Neither was particularly well received on the world stage. Both were in line for a major PR overhaul. Under the totalitarian dictatorship of General Francisco Paulino Hermenegildo Teodulo Franco y Bahamonde (Franco, for short), nationalist Spain was viewed as a dinosaur and an anathema to liberated democracies, with no international trade and an economically backward approach to foreign investment. (Americans could put money into the country. They just couldn’t take it out!) However, even with this rigid structure in place, indie Hollywood film-makers had managed to shoot their movies within the country’s borders.  Apart from the year-round agreeable climate, Spain’s cost of labor was dirt cheap. So, Bronston reasoned, why leave Spain once shooting was over? Thus, into this kernel of a brainstorm, he reformulated ties already established in Washington with the Rockefellers and Pierponts; two of the most influential and wealthy families in the United States. Key to Bronston’s success was Pierre du Pont III, whose personal assurances were enough for various banks to throw open their vaults to Bronston’s proposal of a massive production facility near Madrid – his own Cinecittà. Du Pont ought to have read the fine print as the onus for repayment fell to du Pont – not Bronston. However, as the Du Ponts were wealthier than most of the financial institutions they were borrowing from, Bronston’s own checkered past did not raise any concerns at the outset.    

For outside investments, Bronston employed a savvy ‘pre-sell’ marketing strategy. While quite common today, it was virtually unheard of at the time. In essence, Bronston would shoot some of his biggest and most impressive set pieces to his movies first, profligately spending to make everything look absolutely incredible, burn through his bank loans, develop the footage, then shop it around to potential investors, who thereafter foot the rest of the bill to finish making the movie. Slick, but dangerous, Bronston also brokered a financial arrangement with Franco’s government to cap off monies. Franco licensed Bronston to act as an intermediary in the purchase and import of oil for Spain, purchasing the crude at a fixed price on the open market, then turning around to sell it to Spanish refineries for considerably more, skimming the differential off the top and funneling these monies back into his future film productions. For du Pont, the Bronston oil deal was also lucrative, but on different terms - legal money laundering. Since no investment in the Spanish economy could be refurbished in anything other than Pesetas – the national currency – and since du Pont would only accept his remuneration in American dollars - du Pont’s sale of oil to Bronston was repaid by the international monies garnered from Bronston’s completed movies, but only after they turned a profit at the box office. And Franco too was compensated in the court of popular opinion as Spain was now being officially recognized as a renowned tourist Mecca with an endless stream of dignitaries and stars paraded through the gates of Bronston’s studios in Madrid.

Very early, Bronston knew he required a ‘heavy’ in his front office with a dedicated business acumen to manage, and occasionally reign in his own profligate spending. Enter Philip Yordan, an attorney, for whose services as writer/script doctor, Bronston agreed to pay a whopping $400,000.00 per project. As Yordan knew very little about actual screenplay writing he tapped blacklisted writers in Hollywood to do the heavy lifting.  Deals were ruthlessly brokered with writers, Ben Barsman and Bernard Gordon, paid a pittance while Yordan claimed sole screen credit for their work. At the outset of Circus World, Bronston promoted director, Nicholas Ray who agreed to attend Gordon in Paris and iron out the creative details. Alas, while shooting Bronston’s latest mammoth epic, 55 Days at Peking (1963), Ray suffered a debilitating heart attack and was forced to withdraw. Bronston was now faced with a minor dilemma, as Paramount had already agreed to partially back his circus movie with Ray in the director’s chair. The contract would now have to be renegotiated.  So, Bronston pitched Frank Capra to the studio, retitling the project to ‘Circus’, while star, John Wayne, insisted upon the services of screenwriter, James Edward Grant to polish the prose. Indeed, Wayne was not interested in doing the screenplay as re-authored by Capra himself. Lacking a certain dispensation for the niceties, Grant informed Capra that the current screenplay was so “incredibly old-fashioned” and further suggested, “…all you gotta have in a John Wayne picture is a hoity-toity dame with big tits that Duke can throw over his knees and spank, and a collection of jerks he can smash in the face every five minutes. In between, you fill in with gags, flags and chases.” Yordan, who did not particularly care for Capra from the outset, agreed. Despite having to pay out a $150,000 severance, Capra was relieved of his duties in 1963, with Bronston now turning to Hollywood stalwart, Henry Hathaway in his stead. Hathaway initially insisted screenwriter, Wendell Mayes be brought on board to ‘fix’ the script. But as Mayes proved unavailable, Ben Hecht was hired along with Julian Zimet (writing under the nom de plume, Julian Halevy), to rework the material into a serious drama.

Casting proved another dilemma. Originally, David Niven and Claudia Cardinale were set. But then Niven was discarded in favor of rising star, Rod Taylor who, owing to the meagerness of his part, declined and was eventually replaced by the rather nondescript John Smith. Rita Hayworth remained rather insecure about playing the one-time aerial star, now washed up but on the verge of a comeback. In hindsight, speculation has arisen Hayworth, only 46-yrs.-old at the time, was already suffering from the onset of Alzheimer’s Disease to contribute to her erratic behavior which John Wayne (at the time) found distasteful and unprofessional. Circus World would prove a nightmare for the cast as Hecht feverishly worked to will something out of the bits and pieces of its fractured storyline, eventually electing to retain the shipwreck and big-top fire sequences, but jettisoning practically everything else, leaving the stars to occasionally ‘wing it’ while he cobbled together his own patchwork of failed starts and lost opportunities to generate anything beyond a few engaging vignettes, never to come together as a whole. And the harrowing business of bringing the movie to completion had only just begun. Moving from Barcelona to Bronston’s Madrid facilities, a real fire broke out, threatening to burn down the entire studio. While the stars emerged from the inferno unharmed, much of Bronston’s Circus World backlot burned to the ground, necessitating a costly rebuild. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, Bronston had lost control of his studio to Pierre du Pont who, acting as the studio’s principal trustee, pressed on to complete the picture, hoping against hope to recoup his lost leader on The Fall of the Roman Empire.

Circus World is a really odd duck. Its main titles are set against a desolate and windblown backdrop, Matt Masters’ deserted big top overlooking an industrial park at dusk as a pallid chorus coos Dimitri Tiomkin’s sad ‘Circus World’ ballad in 6-track stereo. Shortly thereafter, we meet Masters – a Buffalo Bill knock-off – stoic and standing in the center ring of his abandoned stadium. At present, Masters is met by his second in command, Cap Carson (Lloyd Nolan) who, owing to his boss’ austere moment of reflection, is advised to surrender the, as yet ‘unknown’ memories from his past to concentrate on the future. Precisely what this means, especially at the turn of the last century is anyone’s guess. But Masters believes his company’s profits would enjoy a much-needed boost with a change of venue from America to a world tour of Europe. Carson, however, is no fool and calls Masters out on the fact he once lost the ‘great love’ of his life, Lili Alfredo whom Masters now secretly desires to smoke out of seclusion by parading her estranged daughter, Toni.  While Masters cannot deny the truth, he nevertheless buys a freighter, renamed the Circus Maximus, to haul his entire show across the Atlantic. Alas, just as Carson predicted, bad luck dogs the company. At the port of Barcelona, the ship capsizes, virtually wiping out Masters entire show. Unwilling to concede defeat, Masters takes the opportunity to relaunch his plans, scouting for fresh talent that will enable his circus to rise from the ashes of defeat. Steve McCabe (John Smith) becomes Masters’ new partner while also developing a romantic yen for Toni, much to Masters’ chagrin. Meanwhile, Masters hires Tojo the Clown (Richard Conte) who actually is Aldo Alfredo, Lili’s brother-in-law.

Against his better judgement, Masters agrees to keep Tojo’s true identity a secret from Toni.  Having heard of Masters’ arrival in Spain, Lili does, indeed, resurface to catch a glimpse of her daughter while Masters is putting on a wild west show in the bullfighter’s ring for spectators. (Aside: those with keen eyes will recognize the bullfighter’s ring as the same to appear in Michael Todd’s lavishly produced, all-star travelogue, Around the World in 80 Days, 1956). Masters confronts Lili after she has already met Toni without actually telling her she is her mother. Masters buys Lili a bottle of booze, instructing her to choose between accepting her responsibilities or slink back into her old habits as a penitent drunk.  Sometime later, Lili returns to Masters, billed as Margo Angeli, an artist of the high trapeze, continuing to conceal her true identity from Toni. Masters begrudgingly agrees to these terms. But the decision backfires when Toni learns the truth and bitterly resents both Masters and Lili for their deception. Eventually, the whole truth comes tumbling forth: Lili, to have blamed herself for her own flyer/husband’s death on the trapeze after he discovered she was involved with Masters too at the same time.

Via her love for Steve, Toni gradually comes around to a deeper understanding of the sacrifices both Masters and Lili have made on her behalf. Toni finds forgiveness in her heart. But after raising enough money to buy another canvas to re-create their big-top spectacle, all seems well until fate conspires against Masters yet again. During rehearsals, the big top catches fire. The flames quickly spread as Masters, Lili, Toni and Steve struggle to dismantle and save what they can from the fast-engulfing inferno. In a plot entanglement never entirely clarified, Masters then arranges for the emperor’s permission to re-stage his show, using the Imperial Palace as his backdrop. The show is a smashing success, culminating in Lili and Toni’s aerial competition, swinging high above the spectators. Toni magnanimously bows out, allowing her mother to shine once more as a top-billed circus performer. At show’s end, Masters, Toni, Lili, Carson and Steve take their bows, lapping up the applause – all of their hardships now, presumably, a part of their pasts.

On June 25, 1964, Circus World premiered at the Loew's Cinerama Theater. Tragically, it only earned a paltry $1.6 million in North American box office rentals. Worse, the picture was savaged by the critics, and not entirely without good reason. The New York Times’ Bosley Crowther, led the negative charge, calling Circus World “dismally trite and obvious (and) pictorially commonplace.” Time Magazine was a tad more forgiving, citing, “Though likable enough, this least pretentious of Bronston spectaculars cannot compare to The Greatest Show on Earth. It's just a minor romantic tearjerker, it's Stella Dallas with stardust.” Of the lot, only Variety held steadfast in its praise of Circus World as a “big-screen, big box office wedding of spectacle and romance. Underlying all is family-type sex, old-fashioned morality and ample schmaltz.” With all due respect to Variety, such high-minded acclaim leans heavily toward wish fulfilment for a movie that might have been, rather than actually critiquing the picture it ultimately became. At its core, Circus World lacks heart – the one ingredient Bronston hoped it would possess in spades. Most of the ‘big name’ talent here is wasted on caricatures and/or cameos that never strain, much less advance our appreciation for their otherwise Teflon-coated star status. Top-billed John Wayne has exceptionally little to do here except act as a sort of glorified wrangler for his animals – of both the ‘four’ and ‘two-legged’ garden variety. Wayne’s particular brand of butch masculinity is occasionally mocked. He throws minor tantrums at his first sight of Steve and Toni kissing, and later, seems utterly incapable of offering her the sage wisdom in love and romance that might have actually established a real/reel father/daughter relationship to stick to the ribs of their otherwise vacuous and frequently antagonistic sparring.  In the end, we are left with spectacle over substance. Yet, here too, Circus World miserably fails to enthrall. Cinematographer, Jack Hildyard shoots the bulk of the picture from a distance, filling the cavernous Cinerama lens with flat compositions, only occasionally to dolly into the action. Instead, what is here is a very static tableau, colorful in Technicolor, but otherwise not terribly engaging. Circus World ought to have been a grand entertainment. Instead, it remains merely a passable one – and sometimes, not even rising to that base level of mediocrity.

One of the distinct ironies of this digital age in home entertainment has been that a good many movies, either made in America or with America stars, to have been marketed all over the world under various auspices and distribution deals from all of the majors, have only materialized in Europe and Asia in hi-def…and mostly, with severely flawed bootlegs, cribbing from sources that are less than perfect. Circus World was ‘restored’ back in 2014 at Pinewood in England. But the movie never made its way to the U.S. as part of the Miriam Collection – a fate to befall the other Bronston epics. As such, it has remained largely unseen on this side of the Atlantic and, ‘technically’ is still not available. What is available is this Blu-ray edition from Divisa Home Video in Spain, ‘region free’ and for the most part, sporting an attractive looking image with minor caveats to be discussed. First, the virtues. Most of the image here is brightly colored, exhibiting some plush hues as well as expertly balanced contrast to truly show off fine details and a modicum of film grain looking very indigenous to its source. There is zero black crush here, and only intermittent and minute hints of video noise. Light speckling exists, but is kept to a bare minimum and surely never to distract. Now, the oddities – beginning with the main titles.

By the time Circus World hit screens, although marketed as ‘…in Cinerama’, it was actually photographed in 70mm and exhibited as a road show, complete with overture, intermission and end title music. All this has been retained for this Blu-ray release. But the main titles appear to have been derived from an anamorphically ‘squeezed’ source rather than the 70mm master; the proof – an ever-so-slight horizontally elongated image under the titles, followed by our first, brief glimpse of Wayne’s Matt Masters, appearing uncannily pencil-thin and eight-feet tall. Perhaps owing to optical printing methods of the day, the titles are also less resilient in their colors, and sport some unattractive ‘amplified’ grain. Immediately thereafter, this compromised source switches to the much more attractive master, presumably derived from either a 70mm print or a 35mm reduction element, immaculately curated over the decades. Intermittently, however, the image falters thereafter, and not just from scene to scene, but shot to shot, sourced from the aforementioned anamorphic print or possibly a dupe negative. While the ‘squeeze’ is gone from these inserts, color fidelity and saturation take a considerable dip. Take the scene where Toni confronts Masters with her plans to be romanced by Steve. In the middle of her declaration, the source, sporting excellent flesh tones, suddenly toggles to an insert where flesh becomes anemic and jaundice before switching back to these better elements.  While the work done throughout this 1080p transfer could have been improved, Divisai has been privy to some solidly manufactured elements for the most part. Whether they possess legitimate rights to market this movie to ‘region free’ Blu-ray is an entirely different matter. But the actual disc has been legitimately authored. No MOD here. And Divisai has also shelled out for some extras, albeit, all of them in Spanish. My Española is rusty at best. But from what I can ascertain, there are biographies on the principles and an extensive, multi-screen essay on the making of the movie. However, unless you are fluent in Spanish, these are pretty much worthless. There are also image galleries containing some fairly faded production stills and poster art.  There are removable subtitles and English 5.1 DTS and 2.0 Spanish tracks. Bottom line: I expected a lot more from Bronston, Wayne and Circus World. This one left me flat and pining for DeMille’s Oscar-winning big-top flick. Pass and be glad that you did.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

0