But, just a decade ago, I couldn't find this movie anywhere and I was desperate to see it one more time. "The Big Circus" had been a big part of my very young youth...one that I cherished as a kid. Thanks to the old WOR-TV "Million Dollar Movie," which ran the same movie over and over and over for a week at a time. I probably saw it 30 or 40 times.
Made in 1959 to capitalize on "The Greatest Show on Earth," I thought this movie was even better. Circus sabotage. Big name actors. Runaway tigers. It even had a train crash just like his predecessor. Sure, "The Big Circus" was cheesy. While some of the special effects were terrific, others were downright awful. At one point in the movie, Gilbert Roland, playing a famous Wallenda-like acrobat, attempts to walk across Niagara Falls on a tightrope. There are actually some location shots actually filmed at the Falls. At the same time, other shots are obviously filmed on the backlot and look so shoddy when compared to the real thing.
I didn't care. Here was yet another movie theme song that I would sing out loud while skipping to school.
"There's nothing as gay as a wonderful day at THE BIG CIRCUS!"
I probably would be more judicious and less vocal with those lyrics today. But, nevertheless, if "The Big Circus" was playing on TV, I was there. I knew every line and every plot turn. Rhonda Fleming, as the circus PR agent, had the most gorgeous red hair and I wanted her to be my new mother. I didn't care that the movie was shot in widescreen and was subsequently butchered in image by Channel 9. Along with "Bye Bye Birdie" and "The Music Man," this was
cinematic nirvana for me.
And then the damn thing disappeared like David Blaine. And was not seen ever since. I talked about it to friends over the years and they didn't know what the hell I was bitching about. As an adult, I needed to see this film one more time in my life. And I began an exhaustive journey to do so.
The movie was produced by Allied Artists, which disbanded as quickly as a Ted Cruz presidential bid. As a result, "The Big Circus" fell into the Hollywood black hole. It stopped being played on TV. None of the classic movie channels had it in their libraries. I even went as far as writing Turner Classic Movies. Nothing. Totally deserving of a restoration, "The Big Circus" doesn't even get a chance to be shown anywhere.
Like kids in grammar school, I forgot about it from time to time. But, then, suddenly something jarred my memory and my passion to rediscover it began anew. I would open a newspaper and see a picture of Rhonda Fleming at a charity event, so my writing partner prodded me to find her address and ask her where the movie is.
I stumbled across a website created by Irwin Allen's estate. He was the producer, so, surely, somebody there must know. Nothing. I put the film far back in my mental hard drive once again.
Then, a decade ago, a well-meaning good friend birthday-gifts me with a VHS version of the film that she tracked down somewhere overseas. While I get to savor "The Big Circus" again, I can't help but notice that the dub is terrible and obviously done off a TV transmission. In the widescreen and pristine era of DVDs, this is unacceptable. I bury the movie in my brain's graveyard one more time.
And, then, a few months later, out of the blue comes the Aero Theater's showing of "Seventh Voyage of Sinbad" with live commentary offered by the film's crew and cast. Which featured Kathryn Grant Crosby, who also conveniently for me is one of the co-stars of "The Big Circus." I go into attack mode.
After "Sinbad," I see that Ms. Grant-Crosby is extremely accessible to the audience. I immediately make my way over. My first comment to her probably scared the pellets out of her.
"Ms. Grant, can I ask you something that has nothing to do with this movie?"
There was a momentary look of fear on her face, as if I was going to ask about how many punches she took to the head from Bing. I continued.
"One of my favorite movies when I was a kid was 'The Big Circus'..."
Kathryn Grant-Crosby beamed as if I had just told her that Bing had even more stock in Minute Maid. She smiled broadly and grabbed my hand.
"Mine, too."
I pressed on. "Can you tell me why it is not seen anyplace?"
"I don't know. We made it at Metro, but it was Allied Artists. Did you write to Irwin Allen's people?"
I told her that was a dead end. As well as Turner Classic Movies. We chatted for a few minutes.
She grinned. "Well, we both want to see it again, so let's work on it." She patted my hand and moved on to the next fan.
Was I any closer to the movie? Not really. But, at least, it came to the forefront one more time.
Oddly enough, about a year later, Warner Brothers must have inherited the rights in a film library purchase. And, in an attempt to squeeze any kind of greenbacks out of it, they made it available for purchase. I might have been first in line.
Suddenly, TCM got it and now runs it frequently almost ad nauseum. Myself? I try to watch it once a year and I suddenly transport myself back to the floor of my grandmother's living room. Staring at vivid colors telecast in black and white.
Movies can do that to you. In retrospect, I wonder if my conversation with Kathryn had anything to do with this newfound treasure.
In my mind, she and I were the ones who moved the mountain.
Dinner last night: Grilled bratwurst and pickled vegetables.
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