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SAM’S EXIT Circus World is Samuel Bronston’s swan song to roadshows. (Though he had one more in mind—Isabella of Spain, first with Elizabeth Taylor, then Glenda Jackson.) Bankrupted by the folly The Fall of the Roman Empire, the impresario’s scrounging for funds to make a Big Top clinker flashed a neon epitah: He was and will be remembered as one of moviedom’s real versions of the Broadway shyters in Mel Brooks’s The Producers. His Byzantine financial entanglements brought on lawsuits and a trial in which he was found guilty of perjury, only to have the U.S. Supreme Court overturn the conviction by re-defining aspects of the law governing false statements, specifically differentiating what constitutes lying vs misleading testimony. His distribution deals were no less convoluted, adversely affecting early VHS and DVD releases of his epics, none of which received super high marks for quality. In Circus World, there are some pleasures we’ve come to expect from his propensity for deluxe twaddle: production designer John DeCuir managed a few eye-pleasing sets and dresses up existing arenas and localities in Madrid and Barcelona with his customary flair; Jack Hildyard and Claude Renoir photograph nicely. Not so good are Renie’s costumes and worse is Dimitri Tiomkin’s score and much worse is the title song he co-wrote, sounding like a lift from one of his funereal dirges in Fall of Roman Empire. It’s in the basic story and casting where everything goes to hell. Didn’t anyone ask the pertinent question—who wants to watch a movie about the antiquated entertainment of a circus? (The fact is, and used in the movie, circuses were already deep in bankruptcy by 1964.) And who would believe John Wayne as a circus master—the same boobs who bought him as a big game hunter for zoos in Hatari!? How did Claudia Cardinale manage to be the daughter to former star aerialist Rita Hayworth? European financing, with a little extra to write a check to the Golden Globes to purchase Hayworth’s best actress nomination. (Prompted to count her highflying twirls, we find ourselves longing for a juicy dismemberment—her arm snapping off, accompanied by the same sharpness of sound effects wasted on the clowns dropping plates.) Philip Yordan took co-writing credit for blacklisted Bernard Gordon, since restored, and no one can explain Nicholas Ray and Ben Hecht getting this hoodwinked. (Hecht’s last writing job.) In Britain, Bronston’s bore was changed to The Magnificent Showman. Directed by Henry Hathaway. Presented in single projection Cinerama, shot in SUPER TECHNIRAMA 70. (Opened 7/8/1964 at the McVickers, running for 15 weeks.) ROLL OVER IMAGES
Text COPYRIGHT © 2002 RALPH BENNER All Rights Reserved.
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