BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY:

Camille Meets Cabaret on the MOULIN ROUGE



By Greg Walton

Review Film Critic

Sometimes words simply aren't enough.  There comes a moment in everyone's

life when their innermost thoughts, dreams, and desires can only be

communicated in song.  And since most ordinary folk can carry a tune about

as well as J. Lo outside the studio, that leaves her and us with only

professional musicians to express our emotions.



We then watch each other through car windows, belting out Go-Go's songs

and naively pretending no one's looking.  It's an intensely private act of

confession we pathetically believe is shielded by 1/8" of shatterproof plexiglass.



Once upon a time even the movies shared in this musical catharsis,

showering the screen with all singing, all dancing extravaganzas in which

everything goes and anything went.

But the death of the Hollywood musical was merely setting the stage for

its triumphant return - transformed, re-invented, and highly caffeinated - as

"Moulin Rouge," director Baz Luhrmann's ode to true love in the aging MTV

generation.

Like a miniature Tim Burton world populated by the cast of Monty

Python, his film is like nothing you have ever seen - and a tribute to

everything that came 50, 20, even 10 years prior in pop culture.



"Moulin Rouge" is a full throttle musical that works mostly from

contemporary radio hits (from Madonna's "Like a Virgin" to Nirvana's

"Smells like Teen Spirit"), populated

by characters that speak in song lyrics ("Love is all you need, love lifts

us up where we belong"), with such an all-encompassing, wondrous visual

style that defies any attempt to describe it.  But "brilliant" comes

pretty close.

Nicole Kidman has the flashiest role as Satine, the reigning queen of the

late night scene in Paris, 1900.  She's pursued by Christian (Ewan

McGregor), who's also a writer in pursuit of the new bohemian ideas of

truth, beauty and love - the latter of particular importance to the young

scribe.   Passing himself off as a wealthy Duke, Christian wins Satine's

heart by whipping up a catchy tune (actually Elton John's "Your Song,"

which has never sounded quite so profound), only to have the real Duke

(Richard Roxburgh) butt his way into their fairy tale world.



An impromptu opera results as the story jumps electrically from one wild

scenario to the next, inevitably headed towards tragedy, which we will not

reveal here in the interest of allowing you to savor the full experience

of this film.



Love, loss, and a little Christina Aguilera for the kids.  "Moulin Rouge"

is a divisive masterpiece.  Like Terry Gilliam's "Brazil" ,  it overwhelms

the audience with flicker-quick details and running gags - so many, so

fast, to blink means to miss an entire scene.

It's safe to say anyone too old to appreciate "Video Killed the Radio

Star" will have a hard time enjoying, let alone comprehending, Baz Luhrmann's

approach.  The film operates in an entirely different gear, bouncing from

broad vaudevillian humor to weepy romance without warning.



What's most appealing about "Moulin Rouge" is its exuberant sense of joy,

its uninhibited cinematic goal of fun at any cost.  Like the club itself,

nothing is held back and pleasure is measured by crossing the lines of

stuffy traditional behavior.

Watching Kidman and McGregor prance around so unself-consciously is

nothing compared to the exploits of the wild denizens of the Paris underworld that

pop out of every corner of the screen.



The excess even carries over to the running time (which pushes past the 2

hour mark) and deflates the poignancy of the ending  by  stretching it out

over the course of the film.

But "Moulin Rouge" is determined to make you love it or hate it.  No one

will walk out without an opinion.



So, for the record, here's mine.



Grade: A+