Die kleinste Schau der Welt

The younger generation of filmgoers, used to the antiseptic cleanliness of the multiplexes, may not realise that "fleapits" like the Bijou in "The Smallest Show On Earth" did actually exist in post-war Britain. Starved of resources during the war and with restrictions on non-essential building in force until the mid fifties, many small cinemas were in a very sorry state with broken seats, threadbare carpets, antiquated projection equipment and even torn and patched screens.

It is against this background that this charming comedy is set with wonderfully eccentric characters played by Peter Sellers, Margaret Rutherford and Bernard Miles.

The principal character is, however, the Bijou itself. This was a set, the exterior having been temporarily constructed between two railway bridges in Kilburn, a London suburb. The rival cinema, the Grand, was, in fact, a real cinema - the Gaumont at Hammersmith, also a London suburb. If you look closely, it is possible to see that the new name is rather clumsily superimposed.

To someone brought up in the fifties, this film brings back fond memories. To the younger viewers it gives an intriguing glimpse into the past by showing a way of life gone forever.

It seems to me that in recent years most filmmakers believe that to hold a viewer's interest a film must be fast-paced, full of conflict, and in short "edgy". The British comedies from the this time are leisurely paced, and work extraordinarily well because they are full of wit, first-class acting, and not a small dose of irony. For me, "The Smallest Show on Earth" is a "sleeper". In the US I suspect it is lesser known than "The Mouse that Roared" and some of the wonderful Alec Guinness comedies; but I find its' gentility and droll humor to be wonderful! (I would also add that I think that it's a shame Peter Sellers - who has a marvelous supporting role as a doddering projectionist - is best known to moviegoers in the US from his Pink Panther movies, which I think were mostly a waste of his prodigious talents.)

I saw this film on DVD. It was part of a package of 50 old films - it hadn't been restored and appeared much older than its 50 years. I had trouble reading the titles and credits.

What ever happened to all those old cinemas? This is one of them. In one scene the projectionist is having a horrid time and the film burns causing a "melt" before the audience. I experienced this at a local theatre in Papua New Guinea and it took me right back. And how the audience would tolerate it. Well sort of.

The scene where the three old codgers watch a silent film is very touching. In fact, I thought this would surface again in the film but it didn't.

It was delightful. The ending is not your stereotypical Hollywood film that we accept as the norm.

If you can get this film - it is well worth the watch.

Imagine inheriting an entire estate and finding it consists of a run-down fleapit cinema just under a railway line! That's exactly what happens to Matt and Jean Spencer (Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna)when they receive a letter from the solicitor dealing with a long-forgotten great-uncle's estate.

With the beautiful and bizarre Bijou cinema taking centre stage, and its three odd employees (the wonderful Margaret Rutherford as Mrs Fazackalee; Peter Sellers as drunken projectionist Quill; and Bernard Miles as daft doorman Old Tom) livening up the proceedings with their eccentricity, the stage is set for a British movie with a warm heart and a genuine love of the silver screen.

With Leslie Phillips as solicitor Robin, Francis de Wolff as the rival cinema owner Hardcastle, and Sid James as one of his trademark wideboy characters, this film is a treat from beginning to end. Of particular note is the scene where the three long-term Bijou workers watch silent films when the audience has gone home - magical!

This film is one of my favourites because fifty years ago I was a young projectionists in a small cinema in the East Midlands, England. My future wife, was also a projectionist there (this was just after World War II, and the men were still away in the forces) and was where we met. I later became a movie house manager for several years before leaving the business with the advent of TV. Although it was hilarious the film hit the nail on the head with many home truths. The projectionist and the cashier were always rivals and vied for positions of authority. I knew many projectionists who were fond of the bottle. The way the show was kept running in all adversities was also typical of real life in a small "flea pit". A great film of days that used to be ! Incidentally my wife and I celebrated our golden wedding two years ago, and we did our courting at the movies on our days off.