Ringling Bros.:
Many factors contribute to the demise of “The Greatest Show on Earth.”
SARASOTA, Fla. — Goodbye to death-defying feats — daring young men (and women) on the flying trapeze, whip-wielding lion tamers, human cannonballs. Goodbye to the scent of peanuts and popcorn, the thrill of three rings, the jaunty bum-bum-dadadada of circus music.
Send out the clowns. The Big Top is coming down — for good.
On Saturday, officials of the company that owns the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus announced that it will close in May, ending a 146-year run that dates back to a time before automobiles or airplanes or movies, when Ulysses Grant was president and minstrel shows were popular entertainment.
What killed the circus? There are many suspects: increased railroad costs. Costly court battles with animal rights activists that led to an end to elephant acts — and the fact that some people didn’t want to see a show without elephants.
But mostly, in an era of Pokémon Go, online role playing games and YouTube celebrities, the “Greatest Show on Earth” doesn’t seem so great.
“It’s been through world wars, and it’s been through every kind of economic cycle and it’s been through a lot of change,” said Kenneth Feld, chairman and CEO of Feld Entertainment, owner of the Ringling Bros. “In the past decade there’s been more change in the world than in the 50 or 75 years prior to that. And I think it isn’t relevant to people in the same way.”
For a long time, the circus was more than relevant — it was the stuff that dreams were made of. The first circuses were created in Europe; the American twist would be canvas tents that allowed mobile troupes to go to the far-flung audiences of the 19th century.
Phineas Taylor Barnum’s traveling menagerie was wildly popular, while the five Ringling brothers performed juggling acts and skits in Wisconsin. Eventually, Barnum, the Ringlings and another performance-minded businessman named James Bailey pooled their resources and knowledge. Some of the early performances were merely zoos on wheels and a few human oddities, but over time, the acts became truly spectacular — attractions like Jumbo, touted as the world’s largest elephant.
Sprawling companies traveled around America by train, wowing audiences with the sheer scale of entertainment and exotic animals. Deborah Walk, assistant director of legacy and circus at The Ringling — circus impresario John Ringling’s mansion, art and circus collection in Sarasota — said the circus’ impact on small town America is often overlooked.
“That wonderful show that you can see in Madison Square Garden crisscrossed the country and ended up in San Francisco. And every place in between saw the same thing,” she said.
The circus was so important to home-front morale that President Franklin D. Roosevelt gave Ringling Bros. special permission to use the rails during World War II.
But as the 20th century went on, kids became less enthralled. Movies, television, video games and the internet captured young minds. The circus didn’t have savvy product merchandising tie-ins or Saturday morning cartoons to shore up its image. After 1956, the circus no longer performed under tents, moving to arenas.
The public grew conflicted about animal acts. Circuses without animals — such as Cirque du Soleil — were smaller and growing in popularity.
Animal rights activists put pressure on cities where the circus toured. Oakland and Los Angeles prohibited the use of bull-hooks by elephant trainers. Asheville, N.C., banned wild or exotic animals from performing in the city-owned stadium.
Feld Entertainment removed the elephants in 2016, sending all 40 of them to their Center for Elephant Conservation in Florida. Ticket sales plummeted. The circus, already an afterthought for many, receded further in the public mind.