6.4/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 6.4/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Carnival remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like old-school, slightly messy melodramas where people shout their feelings and babies are passed around like props, sure. Go for it. If you need tight pacing or a story that doesn't feel like it’s being held together by duct tape, stay far away.
There is this one moment early on where the lead character is dealing with the aftermath of his wife's death, and it hits you with a level of grit you don't really expect from a 1935 movie. Lee Tracy is surprisingly good here. He’s got this nervous, twitchy energy that makes you feel like he hasn't slept in a week. Which, to be fair, he hasn't.
The circus setting is mostly just background noise, but it’s loud background noise. You’ve got Jimmy Durante hanging around, doing his usual thing, and he’s... well, he’s Jimmy Durante. Either you love the guy or you’re ready to mute the TV.
I found myself zoning out during the custody subplot. It’s the kind of legal drama that feels like it was written by someone who had never actually seen a courtroom. The grandfather is so cartoonishly evil that you expect him to twist his mustache at any second.
I couldn't help but compare it to other stuff from that era, like The Caretaker's Daughter, which handled its domestic stakes with a lot more grace. This one just kind of bludgeons you with the "save the baby" plot until you’re numb to it.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not even a particularly good movie. But there’s something about the way these old films just throw everything at the wall—puppets, circus clowns, bitter legal fights, and dying wives—that keeps you watching. It’s a total wreck, but it’s a watchable one. Sometimes that's enough for a Tuesday night. 🎪