The Greatest Show on Earth (1952)

Brad (Charlton Heston) is the no-nonsense (read: boring,) down-to-earth (read: stick in the mud) general manager of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus.

Brad Braden (even his name is boring) is an expert on everything circus-related; he is aware of everything that is going on and knows exactly what needs to be done about it from prescriptions for various animal ailments, to what to do when the fat man is unable to fit into the passenger car.

There's one scene he's yelling "Keep that car on the rails!" as if his yelling made any difference to anyone actually doing the work, (it's a good thing he told them that!), which actually might apply to all his scenes where he's directing anyone to do anything.

All these folks are professionals who already know what they are doing and don't require micromanagement.

More realistically, a general manager would not know any of these details; and if curious, would be asking rather than directing, but then Heston's character would be stuck in an office doing his job, and out of the picture for most of its length.

To secure the full circuit, he hires The Great Sebastian (Cornel Wilde); but unfortunately for Braden's aerialist girlfriend Holly (Betty Hutton) this means she’s to be downgraded from the center ring.

Sebastian (a more believable romantic lead than Brad), however, turns out to be a charismatic, charming ladies’ man, and he’s soon not only pursuing her, but also offering her the center ring.

Brad, knowing full well the importance of a big-name draw, will have none of it, and for the most part ignores the love triangle forming right in front of him.

A (mostly friendly) competition over the audience’s attention between the two aerialists soon develops to the point where the trapeze act starts becoming more and more dangerous, and more and more disregarding of safety measures (ignoring fraying ropes, performing without a net, etc.)

Is tragedy inevitable?

On the sidelines we have catty behavior from one of Sebastian’s ex-girlfriends (Dorothy Lamour); and an elephant act performer (Gloria Grahame) whose feelings that Brad is unappreciated overshadow the fact that her own partner is madly in love with her.

And, what to make of the clown (James Stewart, who is wasted) who for mysterious reasons never takes the greasepaint off even between shows; whose wrapping of metal rods remind Holly of leg bandages she once received; and who yearns to meet a mysterious female somewhere during the tour?

Complications arise when a conflict develops at a carnival game stand, and the crooked midway concessionaire who caused it is fired, making his mob boss unhappy.

Could this spell trouble?

Betty Hutton is often blamed for ruining the picture; but if she can do perfectly fine in Morgan’s Creek why is she unappreciated here?

Instead, I’d blame the director for not reigning in Heston’s overdramatic histrionics: His and Hutton’s introductory scene as a couple is perfectly illustrative of all that is wrong with the film.

This film should have been a lot more fun.

It could have even been a comedy; and the presence of Hutton; Wilde’s over the top, love-starved, Pepe LePew-styled French romancer; and Dorothy Lamour (also including a cameo appearance by Bob Hope and Bing Crosby) are an indication of the sort of film this could have been.

Instead, Heston’s fun-killing performance (this type of character ended up being the villain in movies like Animal House); and Steward’s incognito, tragic clown not only dominate the dramatic proceedings, but also end up being a lot more memorable than the nearly nonexistent humor.

If one were generous, one would value on the spectacle of a real circus setting for a documentary record of something which no longer exists; but the newsreel type footage (and narration) is excessive and unnecessarily slows down the drama.

Inserts with fake audiences are quite obvious, and their overly descriptive running ‘commentary’ is unfunny and unnecessary: We are all watching those same acts, we don’t need someone describing them to us.

The film features lavish production values and excellent stunt work (Wilde and Hutton did a lot of their own stuff,) and invisible doubling by stunt people (I assume); but a couple of technical glitches for something that was intended to be a prestige picture is still troubling:

In one instance of a blue screen composite shot the camera zooms in and out from two performers, but the projected background is kept at a constant distance creating a disorienting effect.

The other moment happens when it is established that there is no safety net, but a stuntman is clearly seen falling on one. How easy would it have been to cut a few frames out, and instead merely show the audience's horrified reaction?

For some inexplicable reason this was chosen over as the best film.

De Mille must have had a lot of pull with the Academy that year.

Still, despite its flaws and being overlong, the film remains entertaining and never really overstays its welcome; not that it should have been chosen over Singing in the Rain, The Quiet Man or High Noon.