HE VERY EXISTENCE of The Greatest
Showman — the precise moment of conception,
in fact — can be traced back via a light,
straight-as-an-arrow thread to one little (kinda)
white (grey) lie. A harmless lie, but a lie all
the same. An untruth by omission, if we’re
feeling generous. And probably the most
fortuitous untruth by omission of director
Michael Gracey’s life.
It’s June 2017 and he’s ’fessing up to
Empire in the restaurant of a London hotel,
over two hard-boiled eggs and a banana
smoothie. He’s taken us back to 2010; to the
crucial moments before then-commercials
and music-video director Gracey landed the
gig which changed everything.
That gig: helming a Lipton Ice Tea ad.
Its star: Hugh Jackman.
“It was between me and a French director,”
Gracey remembers. “They went with me
because they obviously thought I knew
Hugh Jackman. Because I’m Australian.”
A pause. He averts his gaze. “I mean, I never
corrected them on that assumption.”
The somewhat apparent fl aw in allowing
the men with the money to assume that he did
in fact know actual Hollywood superstar
Hugh Jackman was that, obviously, there
would come a moment when he would have
to meet actual Hollywood superstar Hugh
Jackman for the fi rst time, while pretending
that he absolutely was not meeting actual
Hollywood superstar Hugh Jackman for
the fi rst time. That day dawned, as you
would expect, on the fi rst day of rehearsals.
“Hugh walks in,” smiles Gracey. “And says
to me, ‘Michael!’ I go, ‘Hugh!’ And as
we’re hugging he whispers in my ear:
‘They think you know me, mate. Just go
along with it...’”
What began that day as two strangers
pretending to be friends became two men
who no longer had to pretend to be friends.
The ties of their relationship were pulled tight
by a project that started out as a passion for
one, became a passion for two — an original
movie musical about P.T. Barnum, the
19th-century circus master who pioneered
showbusiness as we know it. Ladies and
gentlemen: welcome to The Greatest Showman.