CRITIC ESSAY
THE GREATEST SHOWMAN 2017
55%
Directed by Michael Gracey
Written by Jenny Bicks and Bill Condon
Starring Hugh Jackman, Michelle Williams, Zac Efron, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Keala Settle
When the first trailer dropped for The Greatest Showman, a musical biopic exploring the life of famous huckster P. T. Barnum, my eyes did the mother of all rolls. I’ve spent several years as a disabled film critic writing on and educating readers about the representation of people like me in movies. The prospect of a jubilant tale about the man who infamously declared “there’s a sucker born every minute” and exploited—and owned—people with disabilities wasn’t too thrilling.
But something amazing happened when I eventually watched the movie. The lights went down, the speakers released a pounding series of foot stomps, Hugh Jackman emerged as our top-hat–donning impresario, and I had a ball. He starts singing about the “fire” and “freedom” of the circus as various members of the cast prepare to enter the ring, and when the chorus kicks in and fire shoots into the air, he asks the audience, “Tell me, do you wanna go?” And I did.
What makes The Greatest Showman work is how perfectly and unashamedly it pays homage to studio-era musicals—films like The King and I, My Fair Lady, and West Side Story, in which lavish production value and memorable songs compete and eventually overcome sometimes repellant social commentary, the exploitation of minority characters, and historical fact. Like those classics, The Greatest Showman triumphs over its inherent issues. It’s wrong and dated but also enchanting.
Barnum’s story has been told before, most memorably in 1952’s The Greatest Show on Earth (even more Rotten than Showman at 45%). Charlton Heston played Barnum in that film, but it’s hard to watch his performance, with his gravelly voice and perpetual sneer, and believe that he is the man charismatic enough to coin the term “show business.”
Jackman is certainly up to the task. He has the right matinee idol mien to convince us that Barnum really was just a down-on-his-luck guy who never caught a fair shake from anyone because he was poor. Jackman’s persona works even when the character is being a terrible person, something the film does occasionally allow for. As Barnum quests for legitimacy at the expense of his performers—shutting them out and making them sit in the back of a theater—the actor imbues him with such likability and passion for the stage that we don’t pause for a second when the rest of the characters start singing about how others are mistreating them.
There is no framing device (à la Chicago) or justification for why these people are singing. They have songs in their hearts—courtesy of Dear Evan Hansen and La La Land songwriting team Benj Pasek and Justin Paul—that need to be exorcised.
Keala Settle’s bearded woman, Lettie Lutz, has the strongest voice, so it’s understandable that her song “This Is Me” was nominated for the Oscar (it was ultimately beaten out by Coco’s more somber “Remember Me”). The rest of the actors sing powerfully, too, and in cases where they can’t (sorry, Rebecca Ferguson), the movie isn’t afraid to embrace that studio-era technique of hiring someone else to sing for you! #BringBackDubbing.
The big numbers offer a heavy dose of spectacle and dance, compliments of choreographer Ashley Wallen. We’re not talking a little hair-tossing or some light arm movements, but full-body regimented choreography. The Greatest Showman needs to be applauded for having tight, precise dance numbers at a time when musicals often don’t bother or over-edit their choreography into a blur. Whether it’s Jackman and Zac Efron dancing on a bar or Efron and Zendaya swinging in the air on a trapeze, there’s technique and talent here. The latter number, performed to the song “Rewrite the Stars,” never fails to dazzle me, even on a small screen. You see the sweat and skill in every frame.
You’re probably asking, “What about how the people with disabilities are represented?” I won’t lie: it’s as bad as most movies about disabilities Hollywood puts out today. The film has an upbeat message about inclusion, yet the message doesn’t include ableism—the “oddities” that populate Barnum’s show are never allowed to become fully fledged characters. But movies aren’t made with me in mind; in order to enjoy cinema at all, I often cast aside problems that pop up regularly, and so it is with The Greatest Showman. I know others in my position take different approaches and that my enjoyment becomes especially complicated when these problems are about people I advocate for and champion in my career. Where is the line between allowing myself to enjoy a film and my compulsion to condemn it? It’s a tricky question I don’t always have an answer for. I allow myself to be seduced by the whiz-bang and opulence, knowing that the movie’s goal is to blind me to the real problems it has.
P. T. Barnum said there was a sucker born every minute, and I’m that sucker. But as Jackman’s Barnum says, people stare at the odd and macabre because it’s fascinating, and The Greatest Showman is compelling because it, itself, is odd and macabre. Could this movie have explored ableism in a way that was nuanced and new? Giving Lettie Lutz more screen time, a character arc, and the ability to tell Barnum when he’s being a sonofabitch would be a start. It might have shown that people with differences have a voice. But to do that would mean shaping a story that didn’t want to simply glamorize the self-made man. When Hollywood has been bad at disability for years, it’s hard to expect more.
In the end, this is the film we have—one that mythologizes a phony and puts ableism into a corner. But I enjoy it every time. How can you resist fire, freedom, trapeze acts, and Jackman’s broad grin? Even if it’s not always a comfortable surrender.
Rotten Tomatoes’ Critics Consensus The Greatest Showman tries hard to dazzle the audience with a Barnum-style sense of wonder—but at the expense of its complex subject’s far more intriguing real-life story.