The Greatest Show on Earth (1952): Eitan's Take

If you like movies to be big extravaganzas -- explosive, with death-defying stunts and flashy colors and dogs dressed up in elephant suits and train crashes and trapeze leaps -- then this is actually a pretty spectacular movie. Cecil B. DeMille was certainly the Michael Bay of his time, and if you can't slow down your cynicism enough to get wrapped up in a Big Motion Picture Event every once in a while, then all hope is lost. Sure, it beat out much more deserving films, like The Quiet Man and the immortal High Noon, but the Academy is known to lose its way every once in a while, and while Greatest Show is clearly not a fine piece of art, it's an authentically rousing and exciting cinematic experience, working the same way the real circus does: by making visceral appeals and bluntly activating fear, morbid fascination, and humor in its viewers. So while most people will give it a bum rap -- the same way they give How Green Was My Valley a bum rap now for beating out Citizen Kane -- I decided to give it a chance, and was surprised to find myself more than just a little wrapped up.

The love triangle between trapeze artists Sebastian and Holly and circus director Brad (the iconic Charlton Heston) was a bit contrived, and a lot of the banter between the circus performers in general felt bloated and unnecessary, but when DeMille puts on a show, he really Puts On A Show. Long, outlandish segments showing every aspect of the Ringling Brothers & Barnum and Bailey Circus are delightful and often enthralling. As with the similarly over-the-top Great Ziegfeld, many complex stunt sequences (most of them involving elephants and trapezes) left me wondering, "How the hell did they do that?" Side plots involving a gang of thieves, a 10-year old murder mystery, as well as artfully composed shots of awed audience members watching the circus gave the film a depth I wasn't expecting. Certainly, DeMille fetishizes the heart-stopping spectacle of the circus, but he also sheds a cynical light on the ego, recklessness, and utter greed that drive the ridiculous circus industry in the first place.

This movie takes us back to a time before the WWF and CGI popcorn epics and monster truck rallies, when entertainment was more "wholesome" but no less dramatic or riveting. So, visually, it's a major success that rivals any of DeMille's other gigantic blockbusters (Ten Commandments, Cleopatra, etc.). But somehow, in the midst of the explosive big budget flair, DeMille actually succeeds -- and many people will mock me for thinking this -- in giving us meaningful characters whose sad, tormented fates we actually begin to care about. While the film is inarguably too long for its own good, every storyline comes to a natural conclusion, and we're spared no heartbreak as one of our favorite characters is led off to prison, one hobbles around with a newly-crippled arm, one weak from an emergency blood transfusion, and the whole circus torn to shreds by the deeds of two truly bad guys.

This movie's win most closely mirrors Titanic's grand year. Faced with some cerebral masterpieces (High Noon, L.A. Confidential, The Quiet Man, and Good Will Hunting), the Academy fell head over heels for an elaborate circus of a movie. It may just be my good mood, but I'm giving this one a truly unexpected 7/10. I'll regret that later, but for now, it feels right.