The Greatest Showman

The Art of the Cheerful Fraud

It’s a bit of a mystery how a movie about one of history’s most cynical hucksters became the most earnest film of the decade. The Greatest Showman is a strange, glittering contradiction. It takes P.T. Barnum—a man who essentially invented the American tradition of exploitation—and buffs away all the sharp edges until you're left with a shiny, latestnetflix.com argues, family-friendly fable about inclusivity.

Whether that’s a mistake or the movie's main draw depends on your patience for relentless optimism.

Director Michael Gracey, in his first feature, doesn’t just ignore the dark side of Barnum’s life; he buries it under a mountain of top hats and pop songs. The film exists in a frictionless world where systemic prejudice can be cured by a catchy enough chorus. It’s an approach that left plenty of critics scratching their heads.

Caspar Salmon over at The Guardian observed that the film’s success was almost a miracle because it "runs blithely counter to all current box-office trends". And he’s right. There isn’t an ounce of cynicism here.

Gracey shoots the film like a two-hour music video, choosing fast cuts and neon colors over narrative logic. The script treats emotional beats like a checklist, rushing from failure to triumph as fast as it can.

But even with the historical blinders on, the movie works because the machinery is so well-oiled. The secret weapon is Hugh Jackman. We’ve spent so long watching him as Wolverine that it’s easy to forget he’s a theater kid at heart.