In a melodramatic story of life behind the big top, the lack of a believable story is the ingredient which causes this film to collapse in a pile of clichés and over-the-top ridiculousness. Whoever told circus barker George Nader that it was sensible to have an affair with a woman (Anne Baxter) who pick-pocketed him must have been in cahoots with her, and when she turns around and prepares to marry one of the trapeze artists (Steve Cochran), Nader insists that this doesn't have to end what they already have. Throw in a jealous female (Helene Stanley) and a Tor Johnson look-alike wrestler (Ady Berber), and you end up with a film that tries to rip off "The Greatest Show on Earth" and ends up a predictable yet convoluted mess.
The ugly color photography and patchy editing only stress the insipidness of the screenplay and one-dimensional characters who try to flesh out this mishmash of unbelievable dreck. Baxter, still looking beautiful, fails to make her character more than a wooden vixen, even if her haunting breathy voice is always a pleasure to the ear. The highlight really is the magnificently scary dives Baxter and Cochran (or at least their stand-ins) must perform. You know exactly where this film is going to go and how all will end up, having been done so many more times before and so much better.
The ugly color photography and patchy editing only stress the insipidness of the screenplay and one-dimensional characters who try to flesh out this mishmash of unbelievable dreck. Baxter, still looking beautiful, fails to make her character more than a wooden vixen, even if her haunting breathy voice is always a pleasure to the ear. The highlight really is the magnificently scary dives Baxter and Cochran (or at least their stand-ins) must perform. You know exactly where this film is going to go and how all will end up, having been done so many more times before and so much better.