"The Smallest Show on Earth" is a clever allusion to Cecil B. De Mille circus-themed Best Picture winner, a large-scale blockbuster that filled theaters as well as cash registers. It's however emptiness that governs the old-fashioned run-down movie theater named 'Le Bijou' in Basis Dearden's film, no spectators, no money... only three peculiar old-timers and memories of the time that used to be and maybe something of greater value that would sweep off mercantile considerations as swiftly as pop corn of one week ago under a dusty seat. This is a film that captures the charm of old cinemas in 1957, when TV had stolen the thunder and when people gathered to watch big movies in big dark rooms, ancestors of today's soulless multiplexes.
This is a film that swims in these waters of tenderness cherished by Frank Capra, with characters reflecting beyond their peculiarity lost glories of immemmorial time. It's also a delightful comedy handling the good old theme of 'little people vs. Big corporations" that made so many Ealing classics from "Passport to Pimlico" to "Whisky Galore" or "The Man in the White Suit" with Alec Guinness. But Guinness was in that very year the hero of a British epic that imploded the box office records after exploding some bridge over a certain river, and it was his undeniable successor in transforming comical roles; Peter Sellers who took the torch and could even in a small role, illuminate the film with flashes of hilarity. Anyway, if there's anything the film proves is that even the smallest things make for the greatest effects.
The heroes of this little farce are Matt and Jean (Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna) and let me say that their interactions were so sweet and genuine I was suspecting all along if these two weren't a couple in real-life. Bingo! This is the kind of chemistry that makes or break the film and as the young husband and wife longing for exotic locations, one wide-eyed woman looking at the bright side of life and a wannabe writer who scare end a paragraph in what must be his 'greatest project', they're just the perfect adorable underdogs. McKenna goes for the laughs with such enthusiasm you forget how adorable and even sexy she is (not à la Liz Fraser) as for Travers, I was surprised that the guy stood 6'6 for his humility and efforts to reconcile things made him shrink to the levels of people who didn't always level with him.
The film opens with the announcement of his uncle's death, and a misunderstanding with their solicitor Robin (Leslie Philips) led them to believe they inherited a fortune. The name of the town is Slowborough and we know from the get-go a town with such a name wouldn't be Monte Carlo, we'd even suspect it's the kind of godforsaken places where the train stops once every four Thursdays. Naturally, the arrival is one disillusion after another, the town is neighbored by a glue factory (inspiring McKenna quite the lousy but irresistible pun) and the cinema they inherited from isn't the pompously named 'The Grand' but the decrepit Bijou named 'the fleapit'.
To make things even worse, the unfittingly named Bijou is standing next to two railway bridges who create micro-earthquakes every time a train passes and the Grand's owner, the pragmatic Mr. Hardcastle (Francis De Wolff) only offers five hundred pounds to buy them out and build a car park, the late Uncle was offered ten times the price so Matt and Jean have an idea of how screwed they are. This is one of these hopeless situations that only need extra characters to spice them up and there come the long-time employees: Mrs. Fazackalee (Margaret Rutherford) the cashier, bookkeeper and mistress; Mr. Quill (Sellers), the projectionist with a drink problem; and Old Tom (Bernard Miles) the doorkeeper and usher with a strange habit to overhear everyone's conversations.
Hardly the winning team and yet it's the very delight of the film to follow the attempts of the young couple to get people see the last Western attraction. And when you can't compete with the big players, the only thing left is to use your cons as pros: the shaking of the ground caused by the train becomes rather timely when it coincides with a stagecoach attack and gives the show the edge of a Disneyland attraction, and provides one of the film's funniest moment with Sellers trying to keep in place a machinery that is ready to burst into pieces, the troubles with the heating system make for quite a unique experience when characters on the screen are wandering in the desert and sometimes, more "artisanal" solutions are found such as the curves of Marlene (June Cunningham) to sell ice creams, an occasion to remember a time where you wouldn't worry emptying your popcorn box before the film begins.
And so viewers are allowed to appreciate the revival of the old cinema, the businessman raising his offer and the semi-successes met with a more-or-less forgiving crowds, until money cease to be the point and as viewers, we're as enchanted to rediscover the charm of what it meant to be going to the movies, and for all the unpretentiousness of this film, its funny little script from William Rose and John Elridge, the story aged like wine, in a time where streaming platforms have killed the film-going experience. In spirit, this is one of the delightful British comedy gems that put Sellers in the map but it's also a companion piece to many films that pay tribute to moviegoing such as "The Last Picture Show", "Cinema Paradiso" or the "Purple Rose of Cairo", the Bijou becomes one of these places that say something about going to the movie, a place without comfort, pretension and all, but a place with memories, soul, and everything to please a movie lover.
This is a film that swims in these waters of tenderness cherished by Frank Capra, with characters reflecting beyond their peculiarity lost glories of immemmorial time. It's also a delightful comedy handling the good old theme of 'little people vs. Big corporations" that made so many Ealing classics from "Passport to Pimlico" to "Whisky Galore" or "The Man in the White Suit" with Alec Guinness. But Guinness was in that very year the hero of a British epic that imploded the box office records after exploding some bridge over a certain river, and it was his undeniable successor in transforming comical roles; Peter Sellers who took the torch and could even in a small role, illuminate the film with flashes of hilarity. Anyway, if there's anything the film proves is that even the smallest things make for the greatest effects.
The heroes of this little farce are Matt and Jean (Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna) and let me say that their interactions were so sweet and genuine I was suspecting all along if these two weren't a couple in real-life. Bingo! This is the kind of chemistry that makes or break the film and as the young husband and wife longing for exotic locations, one wide-eyed woman looking at the bright side of life and a wannabe writer who scare end a paragraph in what must be his 'greatest project', they're just the perfect adorable underdogs. McKenna goes for the laughs with such enthusiasm you forget how adorable and even sexy she is (not à la Liz Fraser) as for Travers, I was surprised that the guy stood 6'6 for his humility and efforts to reconcile things made him shrink to the levels of people who didn't always level with him.
The film opens with the announcement of his uncle's death, and a misunderstanding with their solicitor Robin (Leslie Philips) led them to believe they inherited a fortune. The name of the town is Slowborough and we know from the get-go a town with such a name wouldn't be Monte Carlo, we'd even suspect it's the kind of godforsaken places where the train stops once every four Thursdays. Naturally, the arrival is one disillusion after another, the town is neighbored by a glue factory (inspiring McKenna quite the lousy but irresistible pun) and the cinema they inherited from isn't the pompously named 'The Grand' but the decrepit Bijou named 'the fleapit'.
To make things even worse, the unfittingly named Bijou is standing next to two railway bridges who create micro-earthquakes every time a train passes and the Grand's owner, the pragmatic Mr. Hardcastle (Francis De Wolff) only offers five hundred pounds to buy them out and build a car park, the late Uncle was offered ten times the price so Matt and Jean have an idea of how screwed they are. This is one of these hopeless situations that only need extra characters to spice them up and there come the long-time employees: Mrs. Fazackalee (Margaret Rutherford) the cashier, bookkeeper and mistress; Mr. Quill (Sellers), the projectionist with a drink problem; and Old Tom (Bernard Miles) the doorkeeper and usher with a strange habit to overhear everyone's conversations.
Hardly the winning team and yet it's the very delight of the film to follow the attempts of the young couple to get people see the last Western attraction. And when you can't compete with the big players, the only thing left is to use your cons as pros: the shaking of the ground caused by the train becomes rather timely when it coincides with a stagecoach attack and gives the show the edge of a Disneyland attraction, and provides one of the film's funniest moment with Sellers trying to keep in place a machinery that is ready to burst into pieces, the troubles with the heating system make for quite a unique experience when characters on the screen are wandering in the desert and sometimes, more "artisanal" solutions are found such as the curves of Marlene (June Cunningham) to sell ice creams, an occasion to remember a time where you wouldn't worry emptying your popcorn box before the film begins.
And so viewers are allowed to appreciate the revival of the old cinema, the businessman raising his offer and the semi-successes met with a more-or-less forgiving crowds, until money cease to be the point and as viewers, we're as enchanted to rediscover the charm of what it meant to be going to the movies, and for all the unpretentiousness of this film, its funny little script from William Rose and John Elridge, the story aged like wine, in a time where streaming platforms have killed the film-going experience. In spirit, this is one of the delightful British comedy gems that put Sellers in the map but it's also a companion piece to many films that pay tribute to moviegoing such as "The Last Picture Show", "Cinema Paradiso" or the "Purple Rose of Cairo", the Bijou becomes one of these places that say something about going to the movie, a place without comfort, pretension and all, but a place with memories, soul, and everything to please a movie lover.