The original idea for a film about a Big Top Circus on the road belonged, not to Cecil B. DeMille but independent producer David O. Selznick, who announced in April 1948 that he intended to make a film centred around the Ringling Brothers & Barnum and Bailey Circus. However, Selznick abandoned the project when he failed to get adequate financing.

On 24^th July 1949, DeMille and John Ringling North, the president of the circus, held a press conference to announce that they would now be making the film. DeMille told the press, ‘This is not to be a history of the circus...We will tell the story of the circus and its people in relation to all other people.’ When North remarked that he hoped his favourite actress Ann Sheridan would be in the film, DeMille merely smiled and made no comment. Casting of the film was still a long way off…

Before the film even had a script, DeMille instructed illustrator John Jensen to provide him with sketches of all aspects of circus life. Jensen said, ‘…he liked to see visualisations of things. He said, ‘I want you to go and travel with the circus and sketch everything you think looks interesting.’ So I traveled with the circus and lived with them on the circus train. I stayed with them a couple of months. And later on, after I’d been sketching up these scenes a while, he’d have the writers write the story around these sketches.’

On 1^st December 1949, Paramount signed separate contracts with North and the circus. North was contracted to work as a consultant to the studio, while the Ringling Bros and Barnum and Bailey circuses each signed to an exclusive 10 year agreement with the studio. For his services North would receive a total of $250,000 in annual instalments of $25,000, while the circus would be entitled to $75,000 against royalties of 10% of the gross film rentals over and above Paramount’s recoupment figure of 1.9 times negative cost (the actual cost of shooting and producing a film) if the film was shot in black & white, or twice the negative cost if it was filmed in colour. Paramount’s overhead charges were reduced from the standard 32% to 26%, with a corresponding downward adjustment if the standard overhead fell below 32%. DeMille’s producer fee wasn’t to exceed $100,000, and his profit participation was not to be regarded as part of the negative cost . The contract stipulated that Paramount was to produce a ‘Class A’ dramatic film, and not just a reproduction of circus acts. It was also agreed that the film would not contain a recreation of the ‘tragic fire at Hartford, Connecticut of 6^th July 1944, or any other circus fire in which patrons were injured (the film would eventually feature a spectacular train crash as part of it’s dramatic finale which was based on a wreck in which the Hagenbeck-Wallace circus was involved in 1929). While Paramount would be permitted use of the circus costumes for the 1951 season for the shoot, they would be required to provide costumes for the film’s principals. Paramount would also retain the rights to exploit the film after the exclusive 10-year deal with the circus expired.

The film was to be the eighth under a contract originally drawn up between Cecil B. DeMille Productions and Paramount on 27^th April 1937. The studio amended the contract in October 1950 to state that Samson and Delilah would be the seventh film, and that Cecil B. Demille Productions would receive a $100,000 advance on each picture against royalties, but not less than a total of $450,000 for both films. The studio agreed to pay an advance of £250,000 on the understanding that DeMille Productions would pay back the difference if, after three years from the release of the eighth film but not later than five years from the date of the agreement, the share of profits to it was less than $450,000 up to a maximum of $250,000.

Because many of the cast would be comprised of actual performers from the Ringling Circus it was necessary to negotiate certain concessions with the Screen Actors Guild. The Guild agreed to waive certain membership requirements so that the studio wouldn’t have to pay the performers for all the days worked as the film crew travelled with the show. Acts seen only in long shot, or in footage that didn’t make the film’s final cut, would not be entitled to payment as long as the footage wasn’t used in other films, and featured acts in closer shots would only be eligible for one day’s pay at the Guild’s lowest rate. Finally, if the circus paid the acts additional money for their work in the film, the studio would be reimbursed for any payments they may have already made to those acts.

The availability of all 1400 people in the circus’s employ meant that there was no need for the production to hire extras. DeMille’s films were well-known for their huge casts and, when details of the film’s shoot became known, the production found itself deluged with applications. A standard letter was issued to applicants which read, ’We are in an unusual position relative to offering work on The Greatest Show on Earth, since our extensive location schedule and use of regular circus personnel has practically eliminated our normal use of extra players.’

The writing of the film’s script was a stressful affair, and took almost a year to complete. Most of DeMille’s films were adaptations rather than original screenplays, and DeMille’s intractable standards meant his writers struggled to produced a screenplay he considered acceptable, even though DeMille instructed them to view the German silent film Varieté (1925) for inspiration. Phil Koury, the executive producer on the film wrote, ‘DeMille's antics during this period were not of a kind to endear him to his writers. He flayed them in conference, then openly at staff luncheons. There were moments when he seemed close to panic. Costs were piling up. More than $50,000 had gone into writers' salaries. There were thick stacks of material. Conference notes, bits of plots and miscellaneous ideas - but nothing together into dramatic sequence. Then Cecil had an idea. Cecil's grandson, Jody Harper, was eight years old at the time and loved to watch films with his grandfather. ‘When Jody says, “'that's the bad man, grandfather”, or “That's the good man” I know all is well with the story', he told the staff at lunch one day. By this time five writers had been on the script and he turned to one and asked him to bring him an outline of a circus story that Jody could understand. The writer came back a few days later with seventeen typewritten pages that began: ‘Once upon a time there was a circus and the boss of this circus is a strong, tough young fellow called Brad Gable. Brad lives and breathes circus…he eats and drinks circus. Brad is in love with Holly, the flyer, but Brad could never tell Holly that he loves her. In fact, he hardly admits it to himself. He knows it isn't good for the boss of a circus to be in love with a performer. When this happens he gets to worrying about her because she might fall and be hurt. She becomes more important to him than the circus, which shouldn't be...' Cecil was delighted.”

Once the storyline was finally approved, DeMille, accompanied by his granddaughter Citsy, secretary Gladys Rosson, executive producer Phil Koury and a studio publicist, joined up with the Ringling Bros Circus in Milwaukee in September 1950. They travelled with the circus for a couple of months on their northern tour, and Koury described how DeMille was a ‘stalking figure in breeches, boots, and open shirt, peering through a camera 'finder' at Bengal tigers within a foot of striking range...scaling rope ladders to aerialist platforms.” The tour proved exhausting for the director, who was nearing 70, and Koury described one particular dinner they shared: ‘he slipped into a sort of semi-consciousness...Gladys Rosson held up his head to keep it from striking the dishes. When he awoke he went right on with his meal as if nothing had happened.’

DeMille originally had Kirk Douglas or Burt Lancaster in mind for the lead role of Brad Braden, but he met Charlton Heston – who was then just an up-and-coming young actor working on his first film – in the studio commissary on 24^th April 1950 and asked to be reminded to talk to William Dieterle about the young actor’s work on Dark City. DeMille screened a scene from the film, and arranged for Paramount to film a couple tests at Heston’s home on 5^th June 1950. The first was a scene from The Strange Love of Martha Ivers opposite Laura Elliott, and the second was a scene originally written for Quantrill’s Raiders with Wendell Corey.

DeMille thought Heston was ‘awfully good, but after screening Dark City on 19^th July 1950, he said, ‘He is not quite right for our picture… [He has] a sinister quality. He’s sincere - you believe him - he has some power - he’s not attractive.’ He asked his staff to find out if Heston had any humour, remarking that ‘Everything I’ve seen him in he’s dour.’

The role was still not filled when DeMille saw Heston driving off the studio lot one day. Heston had just lost the lead role in Detective Story to Kirk Douglas. He waved and smiled at DeMille, and for some reason these simple gestures changed the director’s mind once more. He watched Heston’s performance in a Westinghouse Studio One TV production of Of Human Bondage on 6^th October 1950, and commented that, ‘Heston has a funny way of speaking – it’s an artificial way, like James Mason. [I] am inclined to give him the part.’

On 28^th November 1950, DeMille signed a non-exclusive three picture deal with Heston to begin on 5^th February 1951. Heston would be paid $200,000 for ten weeks at a rate of $2,000 per week, and pro-rate thereafter.

Paulette Goddard campaigned fiercely for the leading female role of Holly in the film, but she had briefly walked off the set of DeMille’s Unconquered (1947), and the director had no desire to risk repeating the experience. Hedy Lamarr and Marlene Dietrich were also believed to be in the running for the role, but eventually lost out to Betty Hutton who purportedly sent DeMille a $1,000 floral arrangement featuring herself as an aerialist.

For the role of Angel, DeMille originally wanted Lucille Ball, but when she fell pregnant the role went to Gloria Grahame.

James Stewart, still a major star, was experiencing something of a career low following the mediocre box office performance of No Highway in the Sky (1951). He was so keen for a part in DeMille’s film that he wired the director to ask to be considered. DeMille nabbed him at a cut-rate $50,000 instead of the $200,000 Stewart’s agent Lew Wasserman was then asking for him. Playing the role of a mercy-killing doctor on the run, Stewart’s familiar features would be hidden behind clown’s make-up for the entire duration of the film. ‘Few other big names would agree to completely hide their identity. But Jimmy felt so secure he did it willingly and had himself a great time,’ his co-star Dorothy Lamour later said.

All the principal actors were given training in the acts performed by their screen characters: James Stewart received instruction on the art of clowning from Lou Jacobs; Betty Hutton trained on the trapeze under the tutelage of Antoinette Concello, and Gloria Grahame lay on the ground with an elephant’s foot hovering just inches above her face.

Filming began in the Sarasota Winter Quarters in late January 1951. DeMille wrote, ‘There must have been more than 50,000 people on the streets of Sarasota, Florida, the circus's winter home, when we let it be known that we were going to film the circus parade there and, of course, photograph the crowd. After a month's work of shooting in Sarasota, we returned to Hollywood for two months of studio production, then rejoined the circus in Washington, and went on with it to Philadelphia.’ Principal photography was completed on 26^th May 1951, with additional audience reaction shots in the can by the end of August of the same year. Some test footage was shot in Vistavision, the newly-developed widescreen process, but the film was shot in 35mm three-strip Technicolor.

Despite the critic’s condemnation, the film won the Academy Award for Best Film, seeing off challenges from High Noon, The Quiet Man, and Singin' in the Rain. Some believe DeMille’s film won by default because High Noon was seen as a thinly-veiled condemnation of the McCarthy witch-hunts. Carl Foreman, the film’s screenwriter had been blacklisted and it was believed many members of the Academy were reluctant to vote for the film. Nevertheless, The Greatest Show on Earth still saw off the challenges of the other two, far less controversial, movies, becoming the only movie to win the Best Film award without receiving any screenplay or acting nominations.

In 1963, a short-lived TV series, also called The Greatest Show on Earth, aired on ABC on Tuesday evenings, with Jack Palance playing the role of Charlton Heston’s character.

Today, the film’s reputation is considerably poorer than it was: many see it as a camp, typically overblown DeMille project, and its plot has been parodied on countless occasions. It is widely considered to be the worst film to win the coveted Best Film Oscar, and has a place today in the list of 100 Most Amusingly Bad Movies Ever Made in Golden Raspberry Award founder John Wilson’s book, The Official Razzie Movie Guide.

Sources: Cecil B. DeMille’s Hollywood by Robert S Birchard, University Press of Kentucky, 2004, pp344-347; Transforming the Screen 1950-1959 by Peter Lev, p203; Jimmy Stewart: The Truth Behind the Legend by Michael Munn, p208; From My Cold, Dead Hands: Charlton Heston and American Politics, by Emilie Raymond, pp 18-19; The Motion Picture Guide , by Jay Robert Nash and Stanley Ralph Ross; The Autobiography of Cecil B. DeMille by Cecil B. DeMille, edited by Donald Wayne; Everybody's Man by Than Robbins.