It’s mid-way through the Summer holidays, it’s 40 degrees outside – the perfect day to hit the cinema with my ten-year-old kid. Before I do, I say the Parents’ Prayer:
Dear God, please let there be something not animated that we’ll both enjoy, I silently beg as we Google movies.
I’ve been a good mum. We’ve watched all the kids holiday movies. Please let The Rock miraculously be in another one because we’ve already seen ‘Jumanji’. I can’t take anymore animated American crap. And I need to see more of The Rock. Much more.
Jackpot – my prayers are answered (minus The Rock). The Greatest Showman – and it’s got Hugh Jackman in it.
I want to see it, even though I hate the concept of animal circuses. Even though I know P.T. Barnum, whose life the film is about, made his name by featuring ‘freaks’ (people with unusual features) in his museums and shows. By the trailer I can see it’s not a biopic that addresses the ugly realities of the real ‘freak shows’ of the nineteenth century, but addresses just enough about it so that my kid can have his eyes opened a little.
Why do I want to do this?
Because when I was ten, I watched a movie called The Elephant Man. The film was about the life of Joseph Merrick, who developed severe deformities as a child, and whom as an adult in London in the late 1800s volunteered to be displayed in a Victorian freak show. Merrick chose the ‘occupation’ because he was unable to to gain employment due to his limited physical abilities. He is treated appallingly by society, but respectfully by a few significant people.